#but captain lee got a lot of dancing lessons on the trip back

[buckykingofmemes]

What happened in Australia?

the important thing to remember about australia is that We Were Never In Australia.

no, really. we werent, we swear. 

peggy carter owes me a drink for telling this story.

see, the howlies operated mostly on the western front of wwii, and we were quite successful there, despite all logic and good sense. and, since we were headed up by the famous captain america, and we were the first integrated american unit, there was a fair amount of press about us. so we had a lot more say in our missions than the average unit, which was why, when we got intel on a hydra operation trying to smuggle some sort of superweapon into australia, we got to go after them ourselves, instead of just sending someone more local. we sent word ahead on what was up, packed our gear and took a flight to the port.

due to reasons that were never really clear to us, we wound up on a ship to australia instead of a plane, so getting there took quite a while. the ship was aussie-operated, a really great bunch of guys. but the thing about sea voyages? theres not a lot to do if youre a passenger. cap kept us all in shape, and we played a lot of cards, but often we would hang out with the crew on their off hours just to kill time, which was fun for everyone. and chain of command being a bit strange, we would up spending a fair bit of time with the captain and his xo. it was a cargo ship, so things werent quite as uptight as they might have been on a battleship.

anyway, by the time we made it to australia, we were good friends with nearly everyone on that ship. which says a lot about the kind of people they were, because the sort of people who get along with the howlies are rarely very sane. 

one of the great mottos of military life is ‘hurry up and wait,’ which was very much the case when we made port in australia. there was some sort of backup with harbor authorities, so we wound up docking but had to stay shipboard until the intel officer we were supposed to meet came around with the harbormaster. it was going to be a three hour wait, they told us, so we would up hanging around on the deck, killing time. 

the captain, it turned out, was sweet on a waitress who worked at a local pub, and we’d spent a fair amount of time talking to him about his lack of luck with her. as we waited, he mentioned that she was a lovely dancer but he had two left feet, which hadnt done him any favors with her. 

so, naturally, being the three-time brooklyn swing champ that i was, i offered to give him a dance lesson. 

picture, if you will, the sort of sea captain one imagines with a grizzled face and salty beard, roughly the size of a mountain. that was captain lee. he was actually bigger than steve, so he could take lead with me and not have it be too awkward, size-wise. and you dont get to be a swing champ without learning both mens and ladies steps, so i had no problem following instead of leading. i roped dumdum and falsworth into helping as well, since it was useful to be able to show him someone else doing the steps. we’d gotten him through the basic step, a few passes, and were working on aerials and drops–specifically, the sidecar, which is a complicated lift that i really shouldn’t have been teaching to a beginner. im told that you can google that if you want to know what it looks like, since its a little hard to describe.

the last lift in the sidecar is an almost-vertical handstand-like upwards swing, and, since i was being the girl, meant that i had to trust captain lee to catch me if we messed up, which, of course, we did.

lee had me upside down at head height, but he released unevenly, and i was coming down sideways instead of vertically. luckily, he managed to catch me over his leg before i hit ground, in what was accidentally sort of a classic princess dip. being a dramatic sort of bastard, i popped a leg and threw my head back, and lee acted like we’d done it on purpose. 

and then we all noticed the harbormaster and the intel officer, who’d turned up nearly an hour earlier than they’d said. we’d been so caught up dancing that we hadn’t heard them board, and most everyone else was watching the show.

they were not amused. the intel guy seemed annoyed, but the harbormaster took one look at us–big, burly, manly captain lee with my not-so-tiny self draped across him like a fainting lady–and he just said, “NO.”

and that was that.  they didn’t even let us off the ship.  it turns out the intel guy was there to tell us that they’d already caught the hydra op and we weren’t needed, so we just went back to france. we never set foot off the boat. and from what ive heard of australian spiders, im okay with that. 

so no, really, We Were Never In Australia. 

[ftaramintas]

            hi  friends  !  i’m  koa  and  every  time  you  see  miss  jennie  kim  on  your  dash  ,  then  you’ll  be  greeted  with  the  strong  presence  that  is  araminta  park  !  you  are  absolutely  correct  if  you  know  i  got  her  name  from  the  beautiful  araminta  lee  from  crazy  rich  asians  ,  and  that’s  that  on  that  .  

            i  use  emojis  way  too  much  in  conversations  ,  specifically  my  favorites  exhibit  a.  🥺  ,  b.  🥴  ,  c.  🤠  ,  and  d.  🤪  .  i  talk  too  much  sometimes  and  i  don’t  find  that  to  be  a  bad  thing  ,  but  right  now  i’m  listening  to  itzy’s  new  album  on  loop  ,  so  make  sure  you’re  streaming  wannabe  or  we’re  gonna  fight  !  i’m  just  kidding  ,  but  without  further  ado  ,  here’s  everything  you  need  to  know  about  araminta  !

statistics  .

FULL  NAME  :  araminta  josephine  park  .

NICKNAME(S)  :  ari  ,  minta  ,  and  minnie  (  by  her  parents  only  )  .

BIRTHDATE  /  AGE  :  july  25th  ,  1997  /  23  .

ZODIAC  :  leo  .

HOMETOWN  :  manhattan  ,  new  york  .

GENDER  :  cis  female  .

NATIONALITY  :  korean - american  .

ETHNICITY  :  korean  .

HEIGHT  :  5′4″  .

LABEL(S)  :  the  queen  bee  ,  the  studious  ,  and  the  opulent  .

ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION  :  biromantic  .

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION  :  bisexual  .

OCCUPATION  :  architecture  student  at  steinhardt  university  .

HOUSING  :  perry  hall  .

LANGUAGES  SPOKEN  :  korean  ,  english  ,  french  ,  and  learning  portuguese  .

POSITIVES  :  bewitching  ,  regiment  ,  decorous  ,  methodical  ,  and  distinguished  .

NEGATIVES  :  unvarnished  ,  zealous  ,  cavalier  ,  hard - hearted  ,  and  priggish  .

background  .

            araminta’s  story  begins  with  the  fateful  meeting  of  her  parents  ,  kim  seo - yeon  and  park  dong - wook  ,  on  a  cold  winter’s  day  .  they  found  themselves  at  the  tender  ages  of  20  and  22  ,  attending  a  boring  christmas  gala  with  their  parents  when  they  would  have  preferred  to  do  anything  else  in  the  world  .  seo - yeon  was  a  women  who  knew  what  she  wanted  the  moment  her  eyes  landed  upon  it  ,  so  when  she  made  brief  eye  contact  with  dong - wook  ,  she  purposefully  spilled  a  glass  of  champagne  onto  his  expensive  tom  ford  suit  and  made  a  big  deal  of  it  .  this  sparked  their  whirlwind  romance  ,  and  six  months  later  they  found  themselves  announcing  their  engagement  to  korean  media  outlets  .

            despite  how  quickly  they  were  engaged  ,  their  parents  saw  this  as  mutually  beneficial  .  seo - yeon  is  the  youngest  daughter  of  the  wealthy  kim  family  ,  owners  of  the  kq  group  conglomerate  that  was  worth  billions  in  its  own  right  .  dong - wook  was  the  only  child  of  his  parents  ,  and  came  from  park  family  lineage  where  their  hotels  and  resorts  were�� the  cause  of  their  fortune  .  the  families  were  soon  to  be  one  ,  and  the  couple  was  the  chaebol  heirs  that  others  envied  .  following  their  lavish  wedding  ,  seo - yeon  and  dong - wook  decided  that  they  were  going  to  head  off  to  manhattan  to  make  a  life  for  themselves  .  so  ,  they  transferred  to  columbia  university  ,  finished  their  schooling  ,  and  shortly  after  seo - yeon’s  graduation  from  the  financial  economics  program  ,  the  couple  discovered  that  they  were  expecting  .

           it  was  a  sticky  summer  day  when  seo - yeon  unexpectedly  gave  birth  to  their  daughter  ,  who  decided  not  to  allow  her  parents  time  to  get  to  the  hospital  .  araminta  was  born  in  the  bathtub  of  her  parents’  luxury  bathroom  ,  and  right  into  the  arms  of  her  slightly  panicked  but  overjoyed  father  .  from  the  time  that  she  was  a  toddler  ,  araminta  was  a  very  precocious  child  ,  picking  up  on  skills  quite  quickly  and  speaking  in  few  short  sentences  by  the  time  she  was  eleven  months  old  .  as  she  grew  older  ,  araminta’s  parents  remained  hands  on  despite  their  busy  schedules  ,  and  decided  that  they  would  see  what  their  daughter  would  have  the  most  interest  in  .  when  she  was  four  ,  her  parents  began  piano  lessons  ,  and  it  was  evident  that  she  had  a  natural  gift  for  the  instrument  .

           years  continued  to  pass  ,  and  araminta  was  always  a  top  student  in  both  academics  and  her  extracurriculars  .  as  she  attended  the  very  best  schools  in  new  york  city  ,  araminta  was  usually  the  first  to  answer  questions  ,  the  first  to  sign  up  ,  and  the  first  to  complete  her  tests  .  she  was  the  recipient  of  various  awards  throughout  the  years  ,  whether  it  be  honor  roll  or  due  to  her  participation  in  various  student  organizations  .  by  the  time  she  reaches  high  school  ,  araminta  is  on  the  fast  track  to  attending  the  college  of  her  choice  .  this  is  also  the  time  where  she  discovers  her  love  for  both  dance  and  volleyball  .  honestly  ,  she  tried  out  for  the  dance  team  at  her  high  school  on  a  whim  ,  and  immediately  fell  in  love  with  it  .  volleyball  is  her  main  love  ,  and  she  keeps  up  with  dance  because  she  gets  to  have  fun  and  it  helps  to  keep  her  in  shape  .

           araminta  was  accepted  into  steinhardt  university  during  her  junior  year  because  she  was  absolutely  the  girl  who  took  her  sat  during  sophomore  year  because  she  wanted  to  get  it  out  of  the  way  !  so  ,  she  went  through  her  last  two  years  of  high  school  not  stressing  over  college  (  and  honestly  i  think  about  that  scene  from  mean  girls  where  everyone’s  freaking  out  because  of  the  burn  book  and  regina  is  just  standing  there  JNFDFHD  )  .  during  the  first  semester  of  college  at  steinhardt  ,  though  ,  araminta  was  dealt  a  heavy  blow  when  she  discovered  that  her  parents  were  separating  .

            they  weren’t  arguing  a  lot  or  anything  ,  but  they  simply  didn’t  want  to  be  married  anymore  /  the  relationship  lost  its  spark  ,  so  they  figured  it’d  be  best  to  end  their  relationship  .  during  that  time  ,  it  was  really  hard  for  araminta  to  understand  because  she  didn’t  want  her  family  to  be  broken  ,  but  as  the  years  passed  ,  she  began  to  understand  why  they  decided  to  end  their  relationship  .  at  steinhardt  ,  araminta  is  an  architecture  major  and  it’s  entirely  due  to  the  fact  that  she  wants  to  someday  take  over  her  father’s  position  as  ceo  of  the  hotel  /  resort  company  that  his  family  owns  .  she’s  the  captain  of  the  dance  team  and  the  right  side  hitter  on  the  volleyball  team  !

headcanons  .

definitely  plans  on  going  to  graduate  school  once  she’s  graduated  ,  and  more  than  likely  will  get  a  degree  in  business  !

as  mentioned  ,  she  currently  resides  in  perry  hall  .  when  it  comes  to  the  decor  of  her  room  ,  i’d  say  it’s  pretty  minimal  with  muted  tones  ,  but  there’s  definitely  some  soft  pinks  scattered  about  !  really  likes  having  gold  as  an  accent  color  (  cannot  stand  the  marble  trend  )  and  everything  has  a  place  !

she  never  leaves  her  dorm  without  making  the  bed  or  putting  away  dishes  from  breakfast  /  lunch  .  it’s  mostly  because  she  usually  gets  back  home  really  late  so  the  last  thing  she  wants  to  do  is  have  to  clean  before  bed  .

studies  a  lot  ,  studies  late  ,  and  studies  hard  .  if  she  were  to  have  a  studygram  (  yes  ,  that’s  absolutely  a  thing  )  it  would  be  the  most  aesthetically  pleasing  instagram  on  the  planet  .  probably  only  uses  these  heavy  gold  pens  modeled  after  the  ones  her  father  uses  with  her  name  engraved  on  it  .

araminta  is  full  on  the  girl  who  does  not  show  up  to  class  in  sweatpants  and  a  hoodie  .  i  draw  a  lot  of  her  style  inspiration  from  itsyuyan  on  instagram  and  jennie’s  own  style  .  the  only  time  she’ll  ever  be  casual  is  during  those  trips  to  the  library  or  when  she’s  lounging  at  home  ,  and  even  then  she’s  probably  wearing  jeans  and  a  tee /  sweater  or  a  coordinated  pajama  set  .

i  know  jennie  has  since  cut  her  hair  ,  but  araminta’s  hair  is  long  !  specifically  ,  her  hair  is  waist  length  .  she  drives  a  white  mercedes  glc  where  she’s  usually  taking  selfies  lmao  but  her  parents  got  her  that  car  because  it’s  #safe  and  honestly  she  barely  even  drives  the  thing  unless  she’s  going  grocery  shopping  or  making  the  trip  back  home  .

personality  .

oh  boys  ,  where  do  i  even  begin  with  this  brat  !

to  quote  that  tik  tok  song  :  i’m  a  bitch  ,  i’m  a  boss  .  araminta  works  very  hard  despite  misconceptions  that  she  has  everything  handed  to  her  because  of  her  family’s  wealth  .  she  can  be  very  prideful  of  all  of  her  accomplishments  at  times  ,  but  definitely  will  let  them  do  the  talking  instead  of  being  the  type  to  bring  them  up  in  every  conversation  .

she’s  nice  to  who  she  wants  to  be  nice  to  ,  and  sometimes  she’ll  be  the  very  opposite  of  nice  .  she  can  complain  a  lot  sometimes  ,  especially  when  she’s  doing  something  that  she  wasn’t  want  to  .  

will  respond  to  attitudes  with  the  same  energy  and  she  will  take  no  prisoners  .

she  is  and  will  remain  as  #1  in  her  program  (  valedictorian  )  and  will  do  whatever  it  takes  to remain  in  such  spot  .  she’s  wildly  ambitious  mostly  stemming  from  her  father  being  the  same  way  ,  so  she’ll  step  on  toes  and  sink  her  nails  in  in  order  to  get  what  she  believes  is  hers  .

crazy  charming  ,  and  usually  it  only  takes  her  flashing  a  smile  in  order  to  get  what  she  wants  .  however  since  she’s  pretty  full  of  herself  that  can  be  a  real  turn  off  to  others  who  don’t  care  about  the  luxuries  that  can  afford  .    

desired  relations  .

i  would  love  to  have  almost  any  and  everything  .  first  ,  some  basics  that  i’d  love  to  have  are  as  follows  :  former  roommates  ,  best  friends  ,  academic  rivals  ,  friends  with  benefits  ,  confidant(s)  ,  frenemies  ,  good  /  bad  influence  ,  one  night  stand(s)  ,  flirtationship  ,  enemies  with  benefits  ,  and  a  current  or  ex  fling  !

i’ve  been  drinking  my  women  loving  women  juice  recently  and  i’d  love  for  her  to  have  an  ex  gf  ?  i  really  feel  that  they  ended  on  good  terms  like  they  might  have  simply  drifted  apart  ,  but  they  remain  really  good  friends  ?  there’s  probably  even  a  sprinkle  of  them  being  confidants  to  one  another  ,  but  give  me  this  or  give  me  death  .  

i  would  die  for  literally  any  form  of  angst  that  you  could  possibly  think  of  ?  angsty  friends  ,  angsty  exes  ,  angsty  anything  .  i  love  to  put  myself  through  misery  so  honestly  ...  bury  me  six  feet  under  and  i  will  literally  thank  you  .

all  aboard  the  heartbreak  train  !  this  ties  back  into  my  love  for  angst  ,  but  some  form  of  an  ex  or  maybe  even  someone  who  she  go  close  to  but  it  didn’t  really  work  out  ?  maybe  even  a  will  they  won’t  they  ?  but  essentially  ,  clearly  these  two  have  feelings  but  for  some  reason  things  didn’t  work  out  for  them  and  now  they’re  probably  in  a  limbo  or  trying  to  determine  where  they’re  headed  but  they  absolutely  refuse  to  talk  about  it  !  all  of  their  friends  notice  but  they  blow  them  off  and  ok  let  me  relax  and  actually  allow  us  to  plot  ,  but  just  some  potential  ideas  !

i  will  have  a  desired  relations  tag  that  i’ll  be  updating  as  frequently  as  i  can  ,  but  if  none  of  these  work  for  you  or  if  you  have  something  you  see  araminta  filling  ,  then  please  let  me  know  !  we  can  totally  brainstorm  or  if  you  want  ,  then  we  can  work  on  chemistry  !

[theliterateape]

Culture in Real Time

by Don Hall

“I have a surprise for you in honor of February!”

Dana and I have this thing we can’t quite find common ground upon concerning birthdays. She is a minimalist from a wholly unsentimental Pennsylvania family. I’m a materialist raised by a mother who calls presents “prizes” and gives gifts as a part of her love language.

While I’m old enough not to care, I still want my birthday to be a celebration of me. It’s small in spirit but, in that self-diagnosis we all attempt on our own psyches, I was the child of a beautiful woman who attracted men who wanted her but tolerated me. Birthdays were my mother’s way of reminding me that, at least to her, I was someone of note.

“I’m putting the blue in the toilet!”

Another unusual record skip in our marriage is those Tidy Bowl tablets you put in the tank and turns the water blue. To her, they are a sign of white trash, low culture, unnecessary expense. To me, they are an odd bluish signal of semi-wealth and extravagance. 

For the most part, the toilet remains clear. She likes it that way because she can then examine the color of her urine to see if she been hydrating properly (too yellow and she’s not). Once in a moon, she indulges me with a tab of unnatural blue with a hint of ammonia. It’s stupid but I love it every time.

We are both Aquarians which means we both are almost zealous in our personal independence and the sight of her in the bedroom and I on the couch, doing our separate things in the same space, is common. We do well together.

Our differences—in terms of how we view money, consumerism, art, reading, politics—are bizarrely cultural.

My DNA is mostly Irish. Some British, a bit African American, some Native American, but mostly Irish. I have the fair skin and propensity to addictive behavior of someone Irish but culturally I’m not one who embraces Ireland or her ways. Culturally, I’m a bit trailer trash, a dash biker gang, a sprinkling of Southern United States with a Midwestern sensibility.

I’m an American mutt.

A child of the seventies, a GenX guy who came of age in the 80’s, I’m the archetype of classic rock and slightly retrograde sexist attitudes that almost every Motley Crue and Scorpions song conveys. I still call women I meet “darlin’” and “honey” as a sign of friendliness. I prefer to throw the rock and roll horns to a thumbs up. I have tattoos but most are quotes from my favorite authors.

Culturally, I’m a fucking mess, man.

I have friends who live a more culturally identifiable life. I’ll admit to being somewhat envious of them.

Arlo is black. I mean, black black. He is originally from a tiny county in Georgia and laughs as I tell him how much he fits the stereotype of a sixty year old black man from Georgia.

"You could be played in a movie by Louis Gossett, Jr." and he cackles.

Arlo has a love/hate relationship with his cultural bedrock. He loves the food. "Barbecued pork, collared greens, black-eyed peas. My gramma's kitchen table was what I think Arab suicide bombers dream of instead of virgins." He loves the music. "Mississippi John Hurt, John Hooker, Buddy Guy? Sh-eee-it." He hates the drug culture which he was surrounded by growing up. He hates the idea that all black people can dance. "No one in my family had any of that. No dancing."

Jim (his Korean name is Junghoon but everyone who knows him calls him Jim) tells me he feels out of place when he sees his family. "I guess I'm like a self-loathing Jew in that I'm Korean but by way of Decatur, Illinois." Culturally, he is a "no zone" in that his parents tried to instill the cultural markers of a second-generation Korean kid but he was never really into it. "I always hated kimchi. Hot Pockets. Pepperoni. Keep your Bibimbap to yourself. Give me a bag of Doritos, please."

Culture is comprised of four things in increasing levels of significance: symbols, heroes, rituals and values.

What the three of us all have in common is comic books. All three of us claim to have learned to read courtesy of Stan Lee.

The Fantastic Four. The Avengers. The Amazing Spiderman. The X Men.

The difference between the DC world and the Marvel world was that the heroes in DC were gods and the heroes in Marvel (mostly) were humans with godlike power.

These were the legends and fables of growing up. These were the morality tales of my youth.

From Peter Parker I learned that with great power comes great responsibility. From Logan, his mantra that "The pain let's you know you're still alive" resonated. Daredevil showed that any liability can be overcome (with the help of some radiative waste). 

Bruce Banner instructed that anger can be managed. As an angry Irish-esque kid in Nowhere, Kansas during high school, I needed that lesson. Arlo loved Luke Cage ("But not the Netflix one. The one with the chains and the afro. I was country-black but he made city-black look cool.") and Jim was a huge fan of Ben Grimm ("He always felt like a freak but had his family to give him a purpose.").

I had girlfriends who had broken my heart but nothing I could compare to Peter Parker's grief from Amazing Spiderman #121-122 ("The Night Gwen Stacy Died"). Not only did he lose his great love, he snapped her neck trying to save her. Holy fuck! I was seven years old when I read that and the gravity of a beloved hero failing so horribly was traumatic and took me years to process.

Iron Man #120-128 has Tony Stark dealing full-bore with his alcoholism in "Demon in a Bottle." 

The entire early X Men storylines find an incredible synthesis of the civil rights issues of the late sixties. While the debates about discrimination, non-violent vs violent protest, and inclusion bypassed my ten year old brain, the ideological battles between Charles Xavier and Magneto set the groundwork for when I started reading James Baldwin in high school.

Even more pervasive in the Marvel Universe was the idea that heroes were as flawed as the villains. Doctor Octopus was the bad guy but not evil. Galactus was not evil but simply trying to survive and his means of staying alive involved eating planets. The crossover of villains to heroes was commonplace in the Marvel Universe cementing an ethic that anyone—even Magneto—could find redemption.

My friend has a kid who loves his superheroes. His introduction to them was the MCU and the films of the Avengers. One day, he and his kid were watching Captain America: Civil War and the child wanted to know if Tony Stark was a good guy or a bad guy. My buddy had a bit of a conundrum because in this case there was no easy answer.

This is a bedrock principle of Marvel: there are no good guys or bad guys. Every character is flawed and can make mistakes. Every hero gets to take turns being selfish, afraid, greedy, and enraged. Every villain has a tortured past and is only the villain out of misguided and traumatized perspective. Like the Netflix Daredevil series when Kingpin doesn't realize he's the bad guy until the thirteenth episode and then is astonished by it.

“Culture is how you were raised,” a friend tells me.

Comic books and the desire to be one of these flawed superheroes are culturally important to me. They are as defining of who I am and who I wish to be as natural hair on a black woman working in an office defines her or traditional prayer rituals are to someone raised in a church. These heroes have been a part of my life since I can remember having memories and I've been engaged with them since that nebulous time.

Isn't that culture? My cultural identity?

We GenX types were raised, in part, consuming pop culture in ways previous generations did not. Hours upon hours of televised stories infused into the soft tissue like an army of Manchurian candidates waiting for the buzzwords to activate our consumerist triggers. The advent of VHS tapes made viewing movies the ultimate babysitter. While a kid born and raised on the streets of Detroit might have very little in common with another born and raised in Idaho, both had cultural roots in their mutual boners for Jill Munroe and devastation over the death of Lt. Colonel Henry Blake. A black kid in Birmingham, Alabama could be as racially different from a white kid in Salt Lake City, Utah but both could bond over Star Warsand Nintendo.

As I read it, culture is comprised of four things in increasing levels of significance: symbols, heroes, rituals and values. By that quite academic frame, it seems that as we parse out our differences in our current multi-cultural war in America, it is a fixation on the symbols that trip us up. Skin color, hair, clothing and style, food, language, sexual proclivities and the presence of certain genitalia are all surface-level identifiers. They are the symbols of each human on display. 

I knew a (white) guy who grew up on the South side of Chicago, went to predominantly black populated schools, had mostly black teachers, and whose only friends were black. He dressed black, spoke black, acted black. Did any of that make him somehow less white and does that make any difference? I know a (black) woman—you'd know her, too, if I shared her New York Times Bestselling name—who, if you talk to her on the phone sounds like the secretary from Ferris Bueller's Day Off but looks like Weezy Jefferson from Good Times. Did her accent and nerdy mannerisms make make her less black and does that make any difference?

“Culture is how you were raised,” a friend tells me. “A lot of it is hidden in the back. It’s not just the food you ate growing up but why that food and not something else. It’s what your family decided to spend money on and what they wouldn’t spend money on. It’s those weird rituals you’d practice every holiday. It’s the clothes you wore but more deep than the fashion is why you wore those specific clothes.”

He tells me a story about clothes. His family didn’t have a lot of money so they saved cash by handing clothes down from one sibling to the next. It was frugal and smart with five kids. By the time my friend got the clothes (he was number four of the five) the strain of wear, the places his mother had stitched up, was obvious. And his little brother then got new clothes because four was the limit of the physical shirts and pants.

My friend spends a lot of money on fashion. He wears the latest trends and has a closet full of suits. He says he spends maybe a third of his take-home on shoes. “That’s culture in real time.”

I don’t dress up for much. I own no suits. I have ties but they’re mostly Marvel, Star Wars, and Beatles ties. My dress shoes are either decent tennis shoes or boots. When I was a kid, my mother wanted to please her aunt. Her aunt was a church-goer so we joined her church. I remember the day she told me I couldn’t go to church because my clothes weren’t up to snuff. “You can’t go to church dressed like that!” she guffawed.

I recall being embarrassed. I didn’t have anything nicer. She laughed at my best clothes. It obviously stuck because I still cringe at the memory. As a result, I bristle at the idea of dressing up for anything or for anybody and I do not go to church. “That’s culture in real time.”

While a follower of The Avengers as a kid, I was never a fan of Captain America. No good reason for that. Steve Rogers just never did it for me. That is, until Chris Evans portrayed the character in the MCU movies. Maybe it was my time to appreciate his retro-goodness; maybe I needed to be a bit older to fully appreciate his specific kind of superhero.

Perhaps I needed to live some life before the ideas that the “I can do this all day” persistence did me any good. The belief in something so strong that he’d go against all of his friends in a fight. His loyalty to Bucky despite the fact that his childhood friend had become a villain. His enduring love for Peggy Carter. His stalwart acceptance that he is almost a century older than he looks and most of his friends are long dead.

I didn’t need those values as a kid. I need those values today.

Dana is fourteen years younger than I am. No, I wasn’t looking for a third wife who was born when I was entering high school. It just worked out that way. The age difference feels sometimes like I was encased in ice for seventy-five years only to be resurrected long after the war was won.

The differences we have are bizarrely cultural. She is a free spirit. I am a worker bee. She is a poet in need of inspiration and subject to the mood swings of that breed of writer. I am an essayist who approaches writing like the laying of bricks to build a house who becomes more a follower of Stoicism the older I get. She grew up in the same house she was born in. I grew up moving from place to place with no true sense of a physical grounding. She is relentlessly frugal. I am an impulse buyer.

But we make it work.

Once in a while I wake up in the morning to take a leak and the toilet water is blue.