Thursday, September 20, 2007
Madam, I'm Adam
In my abbreviated life thus far I have had the gift of knowing a few quality individuals by the name of Adam. First, there's the mythological/religious icon who I often wonder about . . . what were your intentions, is your favorite fruit really an apple, and why would your ribs be so important to lil old me all these years later? Then there's the Adam who courted me through tangled, thorned rose stems and behind cash register counter tops. He was a keeper, for a brief era, and while I love him still, he currently holds a painful title in my vocabulary, heart breaker. Nevertheless, I will always be grateful for his consistently, untimely honesty and sweet bald head.
But then there's another Adam. One who has supported me from the get go. The only person to ever read my senior thesis without having been paid (faculty) or obliged (family) to do so. Adam knew me as an overzealous, yet insecure academic who didn't believe in her skill nor herself. While you read this text, whether ultimately bored, inspired or annoyed by my phrasing, without Adam, I never would have been able to reach you. It is his generous sponsorship that allows me to ramble and pontificate about those things, ideas and people I hold dearest. So curse him, or like me, praise him and give great thanks. Right now, at this very moment, I don't trust myself to adequately and explicitly describe to you the most inspiring and true man that Adam is. Hence, before I dedicate a post entirely to him, complete with flashback photos and prime human examples of sublime selflessness, I'll simply say to him, "welcome home" and "thank you for the Japanese detergent!"
Tomorrow is Friday. I will be having dive bar drinks with some special friends after a long week of work, but will ultimately be looking forward to my evening at the local laundromat where I get to test this new stain eliminating serum, courtesy of my favorite Adam yet. Tune in for more fun facts about this most wonderful man who keeps me on track, reminding me that I matter, taking every effort to support my efforts in life as well as the frivolities that often interfere with it . . .
Thank you is the most grand understatement I have ever uttered. Let's make a pact, all of us, to think of a new, reinterpreted, more sufficient way of telling someone how we are grateful, indebted and in awe of them . . . starting now. Big Sigh.
PS: did you notice the titular palindrome? Nice.