Charles A Perrone

 

I AM 8.

I am the delivering doctor whose name I discovered six decades later

I am the nice nurse who nixed one nickname in favor of a better one

I am the driver of the car you threw gravel at while laughing at will

I am the photographer who attended to young customers with a pony

I am the neighborhood parent whose daughter somehow contracted polio

I am the stay-at-home-dad who chased hot-rodders off his street

I am the orchard owner who sold out and simply let housing take over

I am the next-door nanny whose bedroom was invaded by an errant car

I am the salesman across the street who literally ran off with his secretary

I am the dentist who worked on candy-fed kids without the benefit of novacaine

I am the new kid on the block who invented a new game each and every month

I am the co-worker with kids who went to play golf and had a heart attack instead

I am the cherry tree guard who thinks shooting teens with buckshot is just fine

I am the admired athlete who hit a foul ball through a nearby garage window

I am the fidgety teacher whose earlier nervous breakdown was found out later

I am the lad who slept in a geodosic dome and hanged himself in that very place

I am the woman who hung all her tie-dye clothes on a chain link fence

I am the person who saved enough to afford gender reassignment surgery

I am the gardener who revoked use of any and all plastics in the yard

I am the good-humor man re-creating childhoods on corner streets

I am the information technology genius who finally figured out his boss was CIA

I am the policeman who gave his badge to a babe and went to revel in raves

I am the trust-fund brat who places fake crocodile jaws in the public pond

I am the retired proctologist who is offering free-of-charge examinations

I am the cousin who left the Catholic Church because it was too liberal

I am the old friend not realizing that to sell life insurance doesn't become him

I am the family practice physician who thinks I should locate a specialist

I am the insistent solicitor who wants me to buy a plot in the cemetery.

 

I AM 9.

I am a newborn at a hospital of brick and mortar, mortar and brick

I am an unnecessary nuisance in the eyes of my older sister

I am already a danger to passing cars unaware of my slingshot

I am an expert sled man in my oh so futile imagination

I am an annoyance to all associated with the travel industry

I am an unlikely candidate to live albeit briefly in a hotel

I am the guilty party in the pilfering of the neighbor's fruits

I am a bad patient for gastrointestinal specialists who issue orders

I am a bicycle thief on his way to see a double feature in color

I am a budding sportsman capable of making stronger people cry

I am the guy who burst into laughter when the motorcyclist skidded on pavement

I am the eyewitness who thought it would be fun to lie outright

I am the brave observer who told a precociously bearded boy to back up and off

I am the best chemist this side of the Sierras to judge by this experiment

I am actually deathly afraid of those greased-head wielders of chains

I am a born comedian making all sorts of folks chuckle and speculate

I am an actor a pretender a make-believe maven making good

I am a collector of used newsprint unwilling to reveal exactly why

I am the nephew of an engineer who hoards string and twine

I am a prankster with fake ink spots, faux vomit, and assorted tricks

I am an extra-special edition of the ad hoc newsletter

I am a breaking news story unto myself according to reliable sources

I am a draft dodger in my own mind and by due design

I am the only member of the band who does not play an instrument or sing

I am a unique possessor of multiple surnames and near-names

I am the teacher's pet whom none dare to vet judiciously

I am the responsible party in the destruction of the old archive

I am the architect of a novel view of housing and homing.

 

Bionic Girl

 

Marty read about a seven-year-old girl with a wild disorder who doesn't feel pain or hunger. Doctors say that she does not feel tired either. No wonder they dubbed her "the bionic girl."

She has an extremely rare condition— a chromosome 6 deletion—that has stunned medics.

Her mother is quoted as having said that "she's made of steel, she's got no sense of danger.

She got run over and dragged down the street by a car and she didn't complain. " Impressive.

Marty has always thought of himself as some sort of martyr because of all the pain he feels.

After this eventful bout of reading all he can think of is how to delete his own chromosome 6.