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On a Poem For Scooter

~ Maxwell Xavier ~ Leave a comment

Last year, before my friend Scooter became a dad, I sent him this poem. It tickles me, and I want to memorialize it on the blog. I tease him mercilessly, but he’s a wonderful dad and a great friend. For Scooter:

Confused little golden boy,
confused golden man.
In sauces he liked soy,
his body never knew a tan.

Shy with his brilliant light,
like a girl, some say, he fights.
But all know the truth lad,
he’s about to become a dad.

A great adventure, he will cross.
Finding himself, maybe.
All the years and tears,
ending in a baby.

On an Audience of Sandwiches

~ Maxwell Xavier ~ Leave a comment

I frequent a sandwich shop near my office several times per week. As you enter the shop, an artisanal chalk board announces in stylish script any specials and, more importantly, the name of the lunchtime entertainer. Be it Bob or Matt or Sarah, a grizzled musician will be huddled in the corner, strumming a guitar, playing a harmonica, and covering an acoustic classic. Often, the performance is quite good. Eric Clapton isn’t looking over his shoulder, but, nonetheless, these folks have talent.

No one listens.

Today, as I waited for my ham and cheddar special, I looked around the shop and listened to the songs. I estimate there were 30 people enjoying lunch. Many were conversing with coworkers, some were playing on their phones, and others were stuffing their faces. No one was looking at the musician, and, if they were listening to the performance, it was, at most, in a white noise sort of way. The few folks that did look his way only did so because he was parked right next to the soda fountain. So, his performance was acknowledged, but only as customers tended to their Sprite Zeroes. After that, to say he faded into the background is to insult backgrounds.

The utter disregard of the clientele for the performer was not the most attention catching aspect of the moment, though. Rather, it was the musician’s gusto for the performance. Oblivious to everyone else’s obliviousness, today’s musician belted out hit tune after hit tune. Passionate, fiery, soft, tender, this guy’s voice had it all. More importantly, he just didn’t care. He was there to perform, and I was quite certain that the performance would not have changed had there been 3, 30, or 300 customers in the shop. I was in awe.

If your character is what you do when no one is looking, this guy had a ton of character. Who knows, maybe he returns home in the evenings in a deep depression about the state of his musical career, but you’d never know it from his performance. It struck me as I watched him that that type of abandon, that kind of commitment to the undertaking should be the goal of everyone, personally and professionally. When the lights are on and the stakes are high, lots of people try their best, but, when nothing’s on the line, few people extend themselves. You know, it seems to me that “your best” isn’t often found on the day of the big game, at the interview for your dream job, or in an important moment in a relationship. Instead, our “best” is more accurately what we do on a cloudy, random, forgettable Wednesday. That’s who you really are.

I finished my lunch, refilled my drink, and slipped a few bucks in the musician’s tip jar. I gave him the universal “good job” head nod, and received one in return. I liked the singing, but what he didn’t know was that the tip was for reminding me of a great life lesson. Whether you’re performing for a million people or an audience of sandwiches, give it your best.

On Climbing the Ladder

~ Maxwell Xavier ~ 1 Comment

When I was in college and law school, I was under the impression that those that get ahead do so, primarily, due to intelligence, skill, hard work, and dedication. And, indeed, those factors play significant roles in success in any field. The surprise of my working career has been, however, how many other factors lead to success and, conversely, how many can lead to failure.

The first is simply one’s appearance. If you don’t look the part, you don’t get the part. One of the most dangerous workplace rules is the casual dress code. Sure, you can take full advantage of that, but, in most places, you don’t climb the ladder in shorts and sandals. Visual cues matter.

Second, I’m amazed by how important simply showing up is. Being dependable and predictable is key. I previously worked with an extremely smart, productive coworker, but his frequent, unpredictable work absences just stalled, even derailed, his career. You just gotta show up. All the time. Ready to contribute. It’s not rocket science.

Next, a positive, happy attitude. Fake it, if you have to. No one wants to be around Negative Nancy, and, when it comes time to parcel out important tasks and assignments, people gravitate to those with a “can do” spirit. And, those that succeed at those important tasks and assignments get future opportunities. Again, this is basic stuff.

Related to attitude is the fact that gossips, whiners, emotional blackholes, and conspiracy theorists never get ahead. These odd ducks seek each other out and spend the rest of their careers huddled in corners, sharing the information they just know explains the latest office development. They are always wrong and a drag on office morale, efficiency, and productivity. A major key to success is steering far, far away from these folks. People note your company, and there is such a thing as guilt by association, as unfair as it may be.

Finally, doing more than the minimum required will unlock door after door. Most people want clear directions and work to satisfy expectations. Successful folks do more. They exceed requirements, they ask for additional work and responsibility, they bring ideas to the table, they volunteer to contribute in unique and positive ways at the office. A major mistake many people make is believing that they will be rewarded for meeting expectations. Sure, you’ll get a “good job,” but the key is to exceed expectations. To give your employer more than he or she expected. It’s not a mystery, but it is a test of your desire and dedication.

You can have all the talent, intelligence, or skill in the world, but still find your career stagnating. No one is going to hunt you down to reward you. Success doesn’t come knocking. You have to go out and earn it, and, luckily, the keys to success aren’t a great mystery.

On Falling for Fall

~ Maxwell Xavier ~ 1 Comment

As seasons go, fall gets a bum rap. Winter shines with the holidays, while summer holds the promise of vacations, sunshine, shorts, and warmth. Spring garners its fans by not being winter, as well as promising folks some flowers if they’ll wait out some showers. That leaves us with fall — poor, blustery fall. Drab. The creep of cold.

I’m here to convince you otherwise.

Fall is my favorite season. I love the nip in the air, the falling, colorful leaves, the slowing down to the summer madness. While the leaves and grass may be dying, fall is actually pregnant with possibility. New school year, new football and basketball seasons, and even a new television season usher in with autumn.

Sure, we lose some daylight, but the next time you’re lamenting the loss of light, try this. Come home after work, take a hot shower or bath, change into some comfortable pajamas, make some hot chocolate, sit in a comfortable chair, and, then, do nothing. Seriously, don’t do anything. I’m telling you, no amount of sunshine can beat house shoes, hot chocolate, quiet, and stillness. Throw in a good book, and you’re set for the rest of the evening. Heck, the rest of the week!

Fall is about slowing down, comfort food, and traditions. You can enjoy a warm jacket, having an excuse to use the word “brisk,” and the beginnings of a new school year, whether you’re young or just young at heart. You can also anticipate the start of a run of some awesome holidays. Christmas is laden with pressure, but Halloween is pure fun. Then, if you can’t enjoy Thanksgiving, well, the problem’s with you, not the season. Pass the stuffing, please!

But that’s not all! With fall, you can enjoy the simple pleasure of not being hot and sweaty all the time. Less bugs too! You’ll even get an extra hour of sleep one weekend in the fall, and when, really, do you ever get the extra sleep you so badly need and so richly deserve?

You can date Winter, with her glitzy baubles. You can have a long fling with Summer, with his sultry ways. And maybe you rob the cradle with Spring, with her youthful vitality. But Fall’s the one you marry. Comfortable. Kind. Peaceful. Steady. Even. Interesting, but not dangerous. You bring Fall home to mom and dad, and they approve. Fall’s the one.

So, go ahead. Fall for fall. I did, and I’ve never looked back.

On A Life Denied

~ Maxwell Xavier ~ Leave a comment

You carry your burden,
always with you now,
a great and sad loss,
head heavy bowed.

To make alright I would,
my only true want,
but this pain preceded me,
and continues to haunt.

We have this history and love,
but I’m not sure I know you.
I see me in you, you in me,
and he is in me too.

A distance caused by a loss,
a loss I cannot know.
I cannot bear, could not bear,
the death that is your foe.

I see your tired eyes and soul,
singing its silent sad song,
but I cannot ease your trial,
after these cruel decades long.

You must know there has been love,
and laughter and joy and peace.
Why have you not enjoyed them,
was your loss too deep to cease?

My pledge to you, my solemn word,
is that I will not recall the pain,
the twist of fate so tightly wrapped,
across your gentle heart heavily lain.

I will recall the strength, every day,
to carry on, to move on, to endure,
into unknown valleys and peaks,
knowing only to be unsure.

The life you wanted so denied,
but that love still remains,
three then four then five lights,
remnants all, and your gain.

I know the light is still there,
waiting for a reunion thus,
and I pray for you it happens,
if there is justice, it must.

You will dance and sing and smile again,
a broken heart finally mended,
for so much love surrounds you,
the arms you desire to embrace you, extended.

On Mitch and Cam

~ Maxwell Xavier ~ 1 Comment

On the evening of April 30, 1997, I sat on my dorm room couch with tears running down my cheeks. It may have been the only time in my life I’ve actually cried tears of joy. I had just watched Ellen DeGeneres’s character, Ellen, come out on her self-named television show. It was network television history, and, more than that, I knew it was a cultural moment that would affect my life for the better.

Pop culture moments like Ellen’s coming out were important for a variety of reasons, but for many like me, closeted or semi-closeted in small towns, it held out the promise of a better, more honest future. And that future has, thankfully, been (mostly) realized. Less than 20 years later, we have marriage equality nationwide, the right to serve our country in the military, and, in many (but not all) places, legal protections from discrimination. More importantly, the hearts and minds of our families, friends, and fellow citizens are changing for the better.

Despite the legal, social, and personal victories, gay couples still have few role models and rarely see their lives reflected in popular culture. Wonderfully, that’s changing too, spearheaded for the last six years by Modern Family’s Cameron Tucker and Mitchell Pritchett, played wonderfully by Eric Stonestreet and Jesse Tyler Ferguson.

Mitch and Cam hold down normal jobs (usually), struggle to raise a daughter, experience the awkwardness (and occasional homophobia) of family, and generally just try to be happy. In other words, they’re a normal gay couple. Most importantly, they aren’t a funny supporting character relegated to the perimeter of the “real” story, and they aren’t stereotypical queens…not that there’s anything wrong with that.

In its best moments, Modern Family has invited people to see the boring, hilarious, warm, frustrating, awful, wonderful normal-ness of a gay couple. And we needed that. I’ve never understood when people tell me they can’t “relate” to gay people, as I can never figure out why it’s hard to understand that I love someone…who just happens to be of the same sex. I have no problem relating to straight people, after all. Nevertheless, for many out there, they need an “in,” and Mitch and Cam have beautifully provided that. And, for that, I’m thankful.

A few years after I started watching the show, my husband and I attended a concert. As we sat in the church pew enjoying the a cappella performance, I looked around to notice many families with small children. I enjoyed watching them fidget and toss about, and my mind began to wander and wonder about having that in my life. I had always been resolute in proclaiming that children were not in my future, but, the next day, when my husband and I admitted to each other that we both were thinking about adoption during the concert, we took it as a sign. And, now, we wait for the third member of our great team to come along.

I often wonder whether watching Mitch and Cam on Modern Family contributed in some way to my desire to adopt. After all, it has not been lost on me or my friends that hubby and I resemble Mitch and Cam in more ways than one. In the end, I’ll never know, but it surely didn’t hurt to watch a positive (and hilarious) portrayal of a gay family. And, when our own family grows a little bigger, maybe, just maybe, I’ll experience those tears of joy again.

So, thanks Ellen and Mitch and Cam, and Ellen and Eric and Jesse. You’ve been funny, but, more importantly, you’ve been meaningful.

On Blurred Lines

~ Maxwell Xavier ~ Leave a comment

Today, I received an unwanted “gift” at work: a Blackberry. I’m not thrilled.

The Blackberry becomes yet another piece of technology I lug from home to work and back. Catch me on my commute and you’ll find a sad man carrying his iPhone, a laptop, and a Blackberry. On top of that, just a few inches from the hand carrying the laptop bag will be my Apple Watch. At this point, I’m a cyborg. Maybe I’ve gone full-on Darth Vader: more machine than man.

More than all the tech to keep up with, I don’t like the expectation of the Blackberry, the idea that work never ends, that we are never “off.” Today, a colleague sincerely and happily shared that, during his morning commute, he uses his Blackberry to organize his work e-mail. Shouldn’t your commute be for listening to talk radio, sipping coffee, and fighting off episodes of road rage from other motorists?

Isn’t it interesting that we think nothing of taking our work home with us, but our employers would surely balk if we brought the laundry in to the office. “Sorry, boss, didn’t have time to separate the colors from the whites last night, so thought I could do it here in-between collating this report and rescheduling the company picnic.” Such an employee would soon have plenty of time to do the laundry. Why is it okay for work to bleed into home, but it is so clearly not okay for home to bleed into work? Why have we made these concessions?

Surely politics and economics drive a culture that allows for work to dominate life, but we also can’t deny the very real presence of an America ethos that prizes not just hard work but, rather, work that causes us to suffer. A recent truck commercial made fun of the number of vacation days European workers receive and take. Now, truck commercials are always pissing contests helping men overcome their shortcomings with bigger engines, but maybe, just maybe, hidden not so subtly in that truck commercial was something else entirely: envy. Surely there must be some small part of our national consciousness that knows we’ve screwed things up. When you’re wearing as a badge of honor the fact that you can’t take time off of work, you’ve lost a little perspective.

We are working longer, harder, and more productively than ever. And that’s not just a feeling. Study after study shows that American workers are the best they’ve ever been. But we keep wanting more (and being paid less, but that’s for another post). It’s not enough to be great for 40 hours anymore. We look down on those of our friends and neighbors that “only” work 8 hours per day. That aren’t always “on,” always connected, always available. We see such workers as somehow less serious, less dedicated. What no one ever points out, however, is that maybe people who work only 40 hours per week are, in fact, less dedicated to work because they are more dedicated to their family. Maybe even just more dedicated to having a life. Why does our national conversation presume work to be the highest rung of life worthy of dedication?

There’s a great line in “Jurassic Park” where Jeff Goldblum’s character chastises the dinosaur park’s owner, saying that the park’s scientists were so busy figuring out if they could clone dinosaurs that they never stopped to consider if they should. Our approach to work and the growing demand to always be connected feels a lot like that. Sure, now we have the technology to check in on work e-mail at 3AM, but, just because we can doesn’t mean we should.

I remember as a child in school thinking that, when I joined the workforce, the work week would only be four days long. Maybe even three. With the advancements in technology, it seemed only logical that people would throw off the yoke of work and reward themselves with more time to pursue other interests. It still seems like a great, common sense thought. But obviously that has not come to pass.

At 6pm today, I shut down my work computer, changed into my clothes for a workout at the gym, slung my backpack over my shoulder, and walked out of my office…my Blackberry sitting comfortably in a locked drawer in my desk. Physically and mentally, my load was lighter. The work will be there, waiting for me, in the morning. Nothing will change, no one will die, no will even know, except for me. I know not everyone has the luxury to disconnect, but isn’t it a shame that’s the case? If 40 good hours per week isn’t enough, we’ve taken a wrong turn, and no amount of technology can help us get back on track.

On Guatemalan Pizza Huts

~ Maxwell Xavier ~ Leave a comment

On March 24, 2011, I sat in a Pizza Hut in Guatemala City, Guatemala, surrounded by four middle school kids. Hubby and I had traveled to Guatemala for vacation, and our first stop was two nights in Guatemala City so we could meet a child he sponsors through an international agency. We invited the child’s family to come to the meeting, and the sponsored child’s mother and three siblings met us at the agency office, along with various drivers and social workers.

All of the children were 12-16 years old, and each presented us with handmade cards welcoming us. We brought the family gifts of towels, school supplies, and hygiene products. We presented the gifts in large gift bags, and the sponsored child reached in and took out each gift slowly, neatly organizing the gifts on the table before him. After emptying the gift bags, he sat in a chair and started crying. He explained it was his dream that his sponsor would visit him, and his dream had come true. It was pure and magical.

After the initial meeting, we took the entire family to a local zoo, and, from there, we went to Pizza Hut for a late lunch. This was not your local Pizza Hut, unless your local Pizza Hut also has armed guards in front. This Pizza Hut was also notable in that it was a two-story restaurant that was as nice, if not nicer, than any American casual dining restaurant.

It was the first time any of the children had been to the zoo, been in a restaurant, or eaten pizza. They had a blast, and so did we. Most of the meal, the kids helped me with my Spanish, while I helped them with their English. They were all bright and had big dreams for the future. Their career aspirations were to be an accountant, architect, school teacher, and social worker.

The kids’ job dreams have always stuck with me. These children had nothing. Their father was disabled, and their mother supported the family by making tortilla shells. Yet, here they were, helping me with my Spanish and sharing their dreams for the future, untethered to their difficult circumstances. Smiling all the time, full of promise and life.

The visit ended up being one of those encounters that permanently alters your perspective, forever widening the scope of your vision, your understanding of the larger world around you. You hear and see the universality of wanting a better life, and you can never again take for granted your good fortune in being born into the circumstances that met you on Day 1. It wasn’t perfect, sure, but it was so much better than so many people experience.

I wish everyone could have their Guatemala Pizza Hut experience. It’s days like that that make international travel so rewarding, so broadening. I’ll never forget that day, and we hope to return to the country again before hubby’s sponsored child ages out of the program. When we do, I hope I encounter four young adults on the paths to reaching their dreams.

On Being Nice Where and When It Really Counts

~ Maxwell Xavier ~ Leave a comment

I recently sat through a long work meeting where the retirement of a senior executive was announced. At the end of the meeting, employee after employee spoke up to not only offer their good wishes but also to explain how this executive’s patience, kindness, and wisdom had touched his or her life. The comments were sincere and moving, and I can only imagine that the retiree must have been gratified to hear such wonderful thoughts shared.

In that context, it came as quite the surprise when, the following day, the executive admitted to a colleague that, as nice as he had been to his colleagues, he had ignored and often treated his spouse poorly at home. It seems all the good will was spent at work, with none left by the time the workday was over. The glowing remarks hardly seem worth it, if you ask me.

Hubby and I celebrated seven years together yesterday, and I can honestly say that my love and devotion grow stronger and deeper every day. My life changed when I met him, all for the better, and I am excited about all the adventures that remain before us. I cannot understand why people settle for anything less than greatness in their personal lives. I know there are reasons, but, still.

I think many people confuse intimacy with a free pass to treat their spouse poorly. They think the familiarity means they can be “real” and “honest.” I think they’re dead wrong. Certainly one should be able to be honest in a relationship, but your spouse deserves your best, not your worst. It seems obvious, but I’ve met many people that treat friends, coworkers, or even total strangers with more respect, more patience, and more concern than they show their significant other.

I also maintain that fighting is failure. Whether it’s a failure on one person’s part or a shared fault, fighting is a sign of a relationship that’s not healthy. Why do so many people accept it, then? Why do some even celebrate it, as if it is only a sign of the passion bubbling beneath the surface? It’s not. It’s a sign of immaturity. Yes, of course couples must navigate conflict; you can’t share a life without disagreements, different points of view, and the like. But, cruel words, yelling, emotional blackmail, histrionics, slamming doors, they simply aren’t necessary in a healthy relationship.

No one is perfect, and no relationship is perfect, and I certainly don’t intend to come off as a Pollyanna about the ease of making a relationship work wonderfully. I don’t have all the answers; far from it, actually. I do think, though, that lots of people aren’t willing to put in the work. I also think lots of people settle for mediocrity. Both are sad.

At the end of the day, your choice of partner is the single most important decision you make in your life. It’s more important than career, children, where you live, all of them. It’s not easy. It shouldn’t be. In the process of trying to get it right, mistakes will be made. Sometimes, big mistakes will be made. The most important thing to get right, though, is to have your priorities right, because, no matter how awesome your colleagues at work think you are, you don’t go home to them. And, after the retirement dinner has been eaten and the gold watch given, the plaudits will be cold comfort.

On Fifty Posts

~ Maxwell Xavier ~ 1 Comment

Yesterday’s post, “On What Ifs?,” was the 50th post at The Hidden Trunk. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my little writing experiment, even if I’ve spent hours staring at my laptop computer, straining to think of something worth writing about. It’s easy to do at first, but, trust me, as times goes on, it gets more difficult.

I want to say a sincere thank you to the friends and family that have read the blog and given me wonderful feedback. Everyone has been so sweet and supportive, and I’ve really appreciated the encouragement. Some posts have worked, others have left a lot to be desired. As I’ve said, I liken this experiment to speed chess. With only one or two exceptions, I write and post the entry on the same day, usually after about an hour of writing. Every single one of the entries would benefit from additional consideration, rewriting, and editing, but, as an exercise to jumpstart my writing and to force the creative juices to flow, it’s worked. And I plan on keeping it up.

As I look over the first fifty posts, my favorites are (in no particular order): the four Axton Village stories; On My Grandfathers’ Ghosts; On the Danger of Terrariums; On What’s Unsaid; On Running in Circles; On Fading Music; On a Letter to Your Pain; On an Annual Goodbye; and On an Anticipated Son.

I began the blog, anticipating that my writing would be significantly less personal. I planned on focusing on my interests in literature, philosophy, and technology. Quickly, however, I was much more interested in mining my life, past and present, for entry topics. I hope that made the entries more compelling; it certainly made for easier writing.

I’ve noticed that, often, I take inspiration from darker topics. I’m intrigued by how people deal with pain…or, often, don’t deal with pain. The idea of people becoming “stuck” in their pain is a thread running through several of the best entries. I certainly do not consider myself a dark person. Really, I fancy myself one of the most positive, stable, upbeat folks you’ll come across. But, from family to friends to even events in my own life, the myriad responses to pain are quite fertile ground to till, and I’m sure I’ll return to that theme…hopefully in different, interesting ways.

As I’ve written the blog, I’ve been surprised my how much I’ve enjoyed the poetry entries. I’m sure a real writer or poet would laugh at the feeble efforts, but they’ve been fun to write, even if they can border on being too angst-ridden. I’m not sure I have a clear favorite entry at this point, but, if I was forced to choose, On an Anticipated Son would be very, very competitive. It’s a very personal piece that’s actually more factually accurate than one might guess, given that a choir singing actually played a part in our decision to adopt. When the little bundle of joy arrives, I think that poem will be framed and placed in his room.

I’ll be returning to Axton Village too. I like that place, and I hope you do too. I can reveal that, the next time we visit Axton Village, we’ll find ourselves knee-deep in a controversy at the annual frisbee toss competition. Stay tuned!

So, as we learn in middle school writing, I’ll end as I began and again thank everyone for all the encouragement. It has really meant a lot to me. If you have a favorite post, drop a comment below. If you want to complain about the poor quality of the writing, well, I guess you can do that too. I wouldn’t blame you.