My Small Pinky Episode

VaginaJeez…  I’m finally complete but please join me in this small “pinky” episode:

A woman I loved so dearly finally picked up her last things here, specifically her Japanese maple. On that day I was worse off than that dried out piece of black licorice, twisted and gaunt- I had stopped watering it weeks before.  Shit, every time I cleared my throat next to it, the branches would rattle and wheeze poor Maple,  belching out dirt and leaves into the air for the Fourth of July celebration enjoyed by Earwigs and Carpenter ants.  And then it would just sort of… pass-out.  In fact, I watched it keel over so many times that I began to copy this event, acting it out and mocking its exhaustion.  I loved her so much that her parting, this splitting event crippled me for some time-hence my inactivity with this blog:

Selfism and self-doubt are the cheapest things I ever bought” – Ian McCulloch, ‘Back of Love’ – Echo and the Bunnymen.

Never again.

When I was a Cub Scout I amassed a wealth of knowledge about women and the female anatomy from a fellow “patched in” member.  I was probably in the fourth grade, I can’t remember, it’s not important.  Raymond Horiza, a ruddy-faced mucous machine explained to me the specifics by mapping out the vagina… for all of us poor things.  After all it was the vagina I sought, continue to seek, and it’s always a subject, “on the teach”.  I’m a 45-year-old-Jedi of the vagina.  I lose some, but I win some.  Getting back to my Yoda, Raymond…  During a walk to school he explained to me at a very early age, the dynamics and specifications of the vagina, more importantly its location and how to get there:  “…there are four chambers”, he says…  “You have to find one of those chambers with your ‘pinky’ and just stick it in”.  I swear on my child this conversation occurred.  “Move your ‘pinky’ around in circles and she will moan, and she will like it, and she will be yours…”

VAt the next Cub Scout den meeting I knocked out Ray’s front teeth.  It was a brutal punch with a shove; he endured a severe break with lots of blood and pain.  His front two teeth were now a red canvas shaped as an inverted ‘V’.  I did this not because of the vagina secrets he had passed on but because I don’t fuck around when playing Starsky and Hutch. I was Hutch… I am Hutch, I will always be Hutch. His four-chambered pussy schematic and subsequent theories seemed about right to me at the time, though I’ve come to learn them as a gross understatement.

When I was in the First grade I was boldly introduced to the vagina in its red, raw glory by a girl in class who gave Joey B. and me a quick, visceral peek at the fire.  We were asked to get on our hands and knees and to crawl over to her desk.  I’m not sure the time of day, nor can I remember specifically what the rest of class was doing… I just remember pandemonium and that it was “our time”, now or never.  We positioned ourselves about five feet away from her desk.  She was concerned, didn’t want to get caught.  I remember this event so vividly, so clearly, I’m a monster for thinking back on it; I just can’t get it, the event out of my head.  A few feet away, Joey and I were on our hands and knees.  She watched the teacher but the teacher wasn’t watching us.  She yelled, “NOW”!  We scuttled over on our hands and knees toward the shadowy abyss beneath her desk.  She was wearing some… summer-dress and already had her underwear pulled aside.  To me it looked like an angry red, baby’s fist.  The overall meaning of what I saw, kid to kid, male to female looked… hot, as in temperature hot – and angry.  Red, I remember red, red, red, RED.  Immediately after spotting this ruby, I knew this was wrong.  But the shock of it all, what had just occurred… sent me into a float of “ignorance.”  I can’t remember much of Joey B’s thoughts or concerns on this event; I wish I had.  I do remember thinking, “and there are 4 more chambers in there”.  I also imagined my small pinky exploring each chamber and what each chamber might have in store for me, for all boys.

Today… I want to be in love.  I thought I had found the right one.  I was wrong as I have been many, many times before.  There’s one I passed on in Chicago who knew more about me then I could ever come to know on my own.  I was a fool for leaving her and it still bothers me.  She’s a wonderful musician and artist; I take pleasure when the world recognizes her.

I did by the way lose my virginity in the 7th grade, in the woods, (where all good things should actualize), after school.  I have slide-show type memories of this event as well… but my memories of the events are spot-on.  I was probably 70 pounds and hip-deep into one of the chambers.  I sent my pinky in as an early sentry scout.  I thought, “Ray was right… there’s at least four chambers, perhaps many, many, many, more.”

Drawing by Todd Rittman

Drawing by Todd Rittmann

I’m 45 now, not a bad looking fellow plus the last “love of my life” taught me how to make fire with the grill. (I’ve been touring!), I missed out on the basics… okay.

I have plenty of time, (I think), left to explore the exponential chambers you possess.

Check the restroom stalls at some of the local truck-stops in your area.  My name and number is sure to be scratched somewhere.

I’m worth the episode.

This entry is dedicated to my good friend Will Hammel.

3 comments to My Small Pinky Episode

  • Josh

    Your blog is very interesting, very unusual. I’ve read a couple entries in a row (there’s no way I could have read one and stopped after that) and I had to think of how it seemed to, in a way, relate to the very music that brought me here. I heard (and LOVED) U.S. Maple’s first album last week, already knowing my fair share of experimental music, but I certainly never guessed that because of it I’d end up here reading anything like this. I look forward to any future posts, if you continue to make updates.

    • decent al


      Thank you for the kind words. I will be posting more regularly, working on a piece now. I really appreciate you taking the time to comment; it helps me become a better writer. Tell me the kinds of things you would like me to write about.

      Thank you,

  • tweezer

    Happy go-getter ”original individual” Write about the things that rock your boat.. Or the tiny little things in life that kick you in the balls everytime you least expect it.
    Now go to bruises!


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