OMGabe

by Gabe Berman – the author of Live Like a Fruit Fly

Archive for the month “June, 2018”

In Love We Trust

Does Donald Trump make you want to kill yourself?

This isn’t a joke – on the night of his election, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline received two and half times more calls than it normally would have and I literally went to bed feeling like Anne Frank.

I was filled with a fear that most of us, thankfully, have never felt before. What’s going to happen to us? What’s going to happen to non-whites and non-Christians? To women? To gay people? What’s going to happen to this country of ours?

If you think I’m exaggerating, go click on the news.

There are children, probably as you read this, being ripped out of the hands of mothers who are legally seeking asylum at the border. These mothers are told, by government officials, that their kids are being taken away just for a quick shower. But in actuality, they aren’t being returned. They’re being taken away and detained. Some, like dogs in cages.

The comparison to concentration camps in Nazi Germany is almost too obvious to make but there it is just in case

Just two days ago, it happened while a woman was breastfeeding her baby. In America. The land of the free and the home of the brave.

What’s next?

As with everything, we’ll have to wait to see how it all unfolds.

But we can do it together.

And we can remember, together, that love prevails.

Regardless of the fear we may feel, we will live with love in our heart.

They can take away our health insurance. They can deport us. They can intervene with our reproductive rights. They can kill the environment. They can put the interest of big business before the well being of powerless people. They can treat animals abysmally in slaughterhouses. They can alienate the global community. They can make the rich richer and the poor poorer. They can persecute me because of my skin color, gender, religion and sexual orientation. They can destroy this country which hundreds of thousands of people died to defend. They can even cart us away to detention camps.

But we’ll live and die with love in our heart.

They can’t beat us.

We will never lose.

Because, for us, love prevails.

We will see to it.

Together.

Because united we stand and divided we fall.

Thank you, as always, for trading your time for my words. And please remember, you are loved. And, with that, you are love.

– gabe berman

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-TALK

www.LiveLikeAFruitFly.com

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Soul Food

Anthony Bourdain.  

I used to worry about his health.

Every time I’d serendipitously find that show of his, he’d be eating like a goddamn teenager.

Some sort of third-world meat, followed by more meat, with noodles, beer and sake.  Voiced over deliciously with subtle smugness and a side of self deprecation. And then, of course, a nightcap with old restaurant friends in a place like Okinawa or some other city he seemed to have the keys to.  

 In the morning, as you know, he’d wake up, eat an egg based seafood dish in a market that looked like it was in Blade Runner and after the next commercial, he’d get a new tattoo and then head over to a barbecue where no one knew english but spoke wine well.  

And there I was on the couch, always thinking variations of, “Jeez, how does that bastard stay so thin?  I just hope it doesn’t catch up to this guy.”

But now, none of that matters. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. Now, I just hope he enjoyed every morsel and every drop.

It’s sort of the same with my Dad. In our family of four, he’d eat enough for a family of four and I’d plead with him to be more careful with his weight.  I was so scared it would lead him to an early grave and we’d fight about it constantly.  

But here I now sit, late one night in June, the month of my dad’s birth (as well Anthony’s), and I’m just so glad he got so much pleasure from his bagels cut into three slices and his swiss cheese and onion omelettes because it ended up meaning nothing.

Brain cancer doesn’t give a fuck about your diet.  

 Imagine if I could have known how it was all going to end? Imagine if I could just get back the time with him I wasted fighting about food?

But the truth is, I knew how it was going to end.  Not exactly, but I know how it ends for everyone.

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.  

You’d think that, and that alone, would make us want to be more kind.  More kind to ourselves, more kind to others, and more kind to animals.  But it doesn’t.

We live selfishly, as if we’re all that matters, with almost no love for our neighbors.

And maybe this lack of love we feel in the world, although not self-described on the inside that way because it feels more like an overwhelming, undefined darkness of not-enoughness, pushes us to eventually pull our own plugs. Regardless of how great we seem to have it on the outside.

What does this have to do with my dad dying and how I handled it before, during and after?

Nothing.

Thankfully nothing.  

I was a good son.  

But, as you know if you’ve read my stuff, almost everything gets traced back to my dad nowadays.  

And I know that he knew that I was just looking out for him.

As he did for me.

As we should for each other.  

With that said, it’s been awhile since I’ve written anything so I thank you for trading your time for my words. And, if you’re one of the few reading this right now, I know you have nothing to learn from me about kindness.  I’m sure you’re already there.  So, thank you for that as well.

love/thanks,

gb

pick up my books here – livelikeafruitfly.com

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