Rex

Even today, saying the name of Chrissy Taylor triggers a range of emotional leyden memories that are hard to contextualize. They are fossilized memories that have been scattered about the time-worn mesa of my childhood and have, until now, remained undisturbed.

When I started populating Judys 5’th grade class with characters based on kids I went to school with, Chrissy immediately took the role of “the pretty one” and as I drew the character, I began thinking more and more about her. What made this little blonde girl with the big triangle hair so special?  I don't have any memories of her doing anything particularly spectacular. She was a sweet, well behaved little girl that talked to me and laughed at my jokes. Maybe at that age that was all that was needed. Maybe that is all I have ever needed in a relationship. Once I told my friend Malloy that I loved him and he said,  “You know why you love me? Because I laugh at everything you say.” There are a few other reasons I love the man, but him finding me so delightful certainly helps the relationship.

Anywhoo.

I  don’t have a single memory of Chrissy that is not attached to an absolute heart crushing yearning to want to be close to her. I have images burned into my brain of her walking with friends, getting off the bus and laughing and in every single one of these moments I knew I wanted her to be my girlfriend. As juvenile and uninformed I was about the concept, when it came to Chrissy Taylor I wanted her to love me.  So, at some point early on in our relationship, in order to make this wish a reality, I decided to start pretending to be a dog. 

She named me Rex.  

Now I know what you're thinking. Jesus Christ Chris where is your self-respect, where is your dignity? But evidently you’ve never felt the cool hands of Chrissy Taylor‘s fingers sliding through your hair with your head in her lap on a gymnasium bench seat listening to Ms. Davis drone on about something or rather. You have never heard the melodic voice of the only girl you've ever truly loved calling your name, (your fake dog-name) from across the soccer field, beckoning you to come to her. Out of all the people in the world this was the first time that someone who I wanted truly wanted me. So what if I had to pretend to be a dog? Some have done far worse for far less.

Eventually Chrissy grew tired of our little game and one day pretended that I didn't exist. I'm not sure why she did this. Who can really know the motivations of children? Maybe she began to realize that the game had a different context for me than it did her, maybe some maturity bloomed in her brain half way through the year. Maybe her dad saw me barking out the window of the bus when she was walking up to her door and she told him about our charade and she was, from then on, forbidden to have a classmate pretend to be a dog for her at school.  For whatever the reason, Chrissy came into school one day and when I made some weird comment to her that was the 4th grade equivalent of ”Hello”, she simply responded with “Is someone talking?”

The rest of the day was a living nightmare. I cried and I pleaded and I did all I could to keep my guts from falling out of my stomach. I kept testing my luck to see if the game had ended, making little jokes here and there only to be forced to bear witness to a cold vacant upward stare.

 “Jenny, do you hear something?” 

“No Chrissy I don’t hear a thing.,”

At recess I found refuge in the old industrial tire and wept. Erin Waters and her dip shit friends found me and told me I was a little baby. She swiftly became the first person I ever told to fuck off (and mean it) and her upside down head vanished up into the swamp she came from as she called back, “I’m telling!” Of course she was telling.  That was the extent of Erin Waters personality and I doubt much has changed for her in adulthood.

Eventually Mr. B. had to intervene.  I can’t remember what was said and of course within moments we were friends again, but Rex was gone to be sure. Run over by a bus of apathy,  put to sleep by 50 cc’s of boredom, Lost forever in a National Park of maturity.  Whatever the reason, the game was over.

In a lot of ways Chrissy was the model for my future relationships. My habit of losing myself in relationships, quite literally, has been something I have struggled with.  I have always loved women and loved being in love. But my low self image has often left me utterly mystified at the possibility that I could be liked by people let alone loved by them, so in order to hold on to those relationships I let go of all of the other stuff that would make me lose my grip. Stuff like the things that make me me.  My own self image, my values, my goals and of course my dignity.

By the time I had met my wife I had learned that you don't have to pretend to be anything to get someone to love you. Just be honest with who you are and make that clear from the beginning. I am the type of person who needs people to think he’s funny, gets really into the people they are in a relationship with and never wants to come home to an empty house. She was okay with all of  those things.

Until next time.

catchvalve

Portland, Oregon

Aug 14th, 2024