A Portrait of a Conversation between Syl and Quintin Teszeri
November 2014
A conversation taken out of its native context will never be what it was in the moment it was born. In acknowledgement of this impossibility of exact translation, I’ve chosen to print my interpretation of the epitome of the conversation I had with my dad – something of a portrait of the hour we shared on November 18th, 2014. My only hope for this short text is that it be worthy of the wondrous complexity and utopian spontaneity of its point of departure.
Q What do you want to talk about? What is on your mind?
S Well, lately I’ve been thinking about assassinating Hello Kitty.
Q I imagine that would be very difficult to do. The character?
S Just the cat.
Q What do you mean “the cat”? Is there an actual cat? There’s not an actual cat.
S You’re right, there probably isn’t an actual cat.
Q So how would you kill Hello Kitty?
S I was just thinking of mutilating the iconic image repeatedly. I was thinking I would start out subtle but work my way up. Sorta like a serial killer. And then maybe I’d diversify. Go outside of Hello Kitty.
Q She deserves to die.
S It would make her more valuable.
Q Seems to make everybody more valuable.
S No, just artists.
Q The image or in the image? Maybe this is an excellent time to give us an illustration. When was the last time you drew cartoons?
S Before I wanted to be serious about art school.
…
Q What kind of death is that?
S It’s death by evisceration.
…
Q Awe… really? Evacuating the bowels…
…
Q When’d you come up with this idea? When you saw the Hello Kitty behind me?
S Back when we said we were tired of talking about… I’m not sure what it was because I never gave a shit about it.
Q Well, it looks like you care a little bit more about this.
S This might be an idea I’d like to pursue.
Q I don’t know if that’s a great idea. But those bowels are great.
November 2014
A conversation taken out of its native context will never be what it was in the moment it was born. In acknowledgement of this impossibility of exact translation, I’ve chosen to print my interpretation of the epitome of the conversation I had with my dad – something of a portrait of the hour we shared on November 18th, 2014. My only hope for this short text is that it be worthy of the wondrous complexity and utopian spontaneity of its point of departure.
Q What do you want to talk about? What is on your mind?
S Well, lately I’ve been thinking about assassinating Hello Kitty.
Q I imagine that would be very difficult to do. The character?
S Just the cat.
Q What do you mean “the cat”? Is there an actual cat? There’s not an actual cat.
S You’re right, there probably isn’t an actual cat.
Q So how would you kill Hello Kitty?
S I was just thinking of mutilating the iconic image repeatedly. I was thinking I would start out subtle but work my way up. Sorta like a serial killer. And then maybe I’d diversify. Go outside of Hello Kitty.
Q She deserves to die.
S It would make her more valuable.
Q Seems to make everybody more valuable.
S No, just artists.
Q The image or in the image? Maybe this is an excellent time to give us an illustration. When was the last time you drew cartoons?
S Before I wanted to be serious about art school.
…
Q What kind of death is that?
S It’s death by evisceration.
…
Q Awe… really? Evacuating the bowels…
…
Q When’d you come up with this idea? When you saw the Hello Kitty behind me?
S Back when we said we were tired of talking about… I’m not sure what it was because I never gave a shit about it.
Q Well, it looks like you care a little bit more about this.
S This might be an idea I’d like to pursue.
Q I don’t know if that’s a great idea. But those bowels are great.
S I should rupture one… There. And there’s a little Hello Kitty heart. Probably needs lungs too.
…
S I’m thinking I do this repeatedly to this icon then work my way up to bigger, more human ones like Ronald McDonald.
Q Ronald McDonald’s not human.
S Clowns aren’t human?
Q No.
S What else would you like to talk about?
Q Dunno. What could we possibly have left to talk about? What don’t I know about you?
S You want to dredge up something you know nothing about?
Q Well, I don’t know about that. The way you say it. The intonation doesn’t sit well with me.
S The pre-Internet days when things could be hidden. Hmmm… You know I had a secret pension for White Castle hamburgers when I was a teenager.
Q Did I know that?
S Yes.
Q How do you know I know that?
S Because I used to explain to you how I’d go across the border to the White Castle by Tiger Stadium. That was the only burger joint I knew of where I could be greeted by an armed guard going in one door and a different armed guard going out the other door. It felt cool to eat shitty hamburgers in a dangerous place. It was a super rebellious thing to do.
Q You grew up in Windsor. That wasn’t bad enough?
S What? Windsor? Seemed fine to me last time I surfed the top of a vehicle.
Q You did that before the Internet? You could have started something.
S I did start something. It was called the police officer’s attention.
Q Oh no. This doesn’t have to do with that guy who fell out of a truck, does it?
S No, that’s a totally different story.
Q All right. Why were you on a moving vehicle?
S I thought it was cool to do stunts. You watch movies or cop shows and guys are on top of cars.
Q How old were you?
S I got my license at sixteen, so I was sixteen.
Q And whose car were you on?
S Well there… It was… I mean… The car… Technically…
Q This happened multiple times, didn’t it?
S Maybe.
Q That’s why you can’t give me specifics.
S Anyway! I wasn’t the only one.
Q What is that called? Ghost riding? Or is that only when nobody’s in the car?
S I never did that. I was very responsible. Anyway…
Q You were very responsible? You sat on top of a moving car. You weren’t even on the hood.
S I didn’t sit. I was lying down. It’s more aerodynamic.
Q Roughly, how many times did you do this?
S I dunno.
Q Countless!?
S Often enough.
Q Was it that interesting? Were you that bored?
S It wasn’t out of boredom. It… is a difficult thing to explain. You know?
Q No.
S It wasn’t virtual. Shortly after we downed a couple egg rolls at the Chinese place – and this was sober…
Q Just egg rolls?
S Yeah, absolutely. Not high in any way. Then we would pop up on top of the car and go for a ride.
Q How many people would be on top of the car at a time?
S Just one.
Q You took turns?
S Yeah. Just with a group of friends.
Q How many kilometers an hour?
S We went the speed limit. We never sped. We didn’t break the law.
Q I don’t think it’s legal to ride atop a car.
S I read my manual very carefully when I got my license and nowhere in there did it say I was not allowed to ride people on top of the vehicle.
Q And what did the police officer say?
S He agreed that it’s in fact true, but that he’d still arrest my ass and I could sort it out with a judge afterwards. And he got out the handcuffs to show me that he was serious and I said, “Well, if I promised you that I would never do this again…
Q You were on top of the car this time?
S I was actually driving. It turns out they couldn’t arrest a guy for being a dumbass but they could arrest a guy for being a dumb driver. Also, the guy on top of the car has a much quicker escape route because he’s not leaving a vehicle running.
Q He fled?
S He didn’t really run as much as he slid off and walked away, which was a very cool way of exiting the scene.
Q And that was fine with the cop?
S That’s what I pointed out and that’s when the cop pointed out that he’s really interested in the jackass who was driving. I said, “If you were here yesterday it wouldn’t have been me that was driving.” But that did not endear him to me. That was the last ride.
Q What did you guys do after that?
S After that we started the dead flower business. We would rob graves of their flowers and sell them to high school friends who hated their ex-partners. We would deliver them. It was sort of a play on the bullshit that would go on at Christmas and grad and especially Valentines when you buy flowers for that person you want to fuck and then not ever again. You buy things that used to be flowers for that person you’ll never get to fuck almost ever again.
Q Very poetic.
S I also worked at the corner store for like five years. Consequently, I got to miss out on a lot of fine parties. And most regrettably, there was one that was around the corner, and a guy had had just a few too many drinks. He thought he was possessed by a demon. Fortunately, they came to me for help because they knew I had connections with a minister. We all attended church regularly. It was determined at the party that what this supremely drunk guy who was possessed needed was clergy.
Q Did you guys get one?
S Hell yeah! The only thing that really livens up a party is an exorcism.
Q Did your friends come to the corner store?
S Not the possessed guy of course. He was busy channeling demons.
Q Maybe demons needed milk.
S A couple of them came over and explained the situation to me. I said to them, “I know this minister, usually he’s got Thursday nights off. What you should do is have a royal exorcism.” I called him and said, “There’s a guy. He’s at a party. He’s into Dungeons & Dragons and we all know how evil that is. Quite often he listens to these records that if we turn them backwards… Zeppelin records with naked children on the covers. I don’t know, I’m not there. I’m working like a good protestant boy should be on a school night. You might want to stop over because I think this is legit. You should check it out.” So he did. He exorcised a lot of puke from the guy and sobered him up a little bit. Friday was a kickass day to be in school. That was the day Todd was renamed Damien – as in from the Omen – for the remainder of high school. He was good with it. It was a couple of notches up from Todd who plays Dungeons & Dragons. But who am I to cast stones when I was busy trying to work my way up the chess club ranks?
Q Is that why you learned to play chess? I thought it was because your stepfather played chess.
S Actually it was my grandfather who played chess. My stepfather – he didn’t play any games. My stepfather just made cool shit but failed to explain to me why it was cool.
Q Hey, that’s kind of like art.
S He made a lot of the first Star Wars models – the forms for them, and all the Nerf balls that came out. When he brought home a prototype, I’d be like, “What the hell is this?” Especially the Nerfs balls. “Why are you giving me a ball made of sponge? You think I’m a fucking moron? That I can’t handle a real ball?” So we had this real tension in our relationship as a result of it. I might have been nine around that time. He couldn’t really speak to the cultural value of it, especially since it hadn’t been made. It wasn’t being advertised. It didn’t exist, except for in my hand because I got the single prototype or there were only a few prototypes out there. The movie hadn’t come out or the commercial hadn’t been made. And I wasn’t allowed to see Star Wars. It was this whole concept of “if there are aliens, it means that there’s more than humans. If there’s more than humans that means… Wait, Christ died for sins of mankind. What did he do for the aliens? Did he have to die for the aliens? Did he have to die multiple times then? If he didn’t have to die multiple times, if he just had to die for humans, does that mean that aliens are god-like? Wait, then aliens are god? Awe no, see? You’re not going to see that movie.” But all of that conversation was silent. You could just kind of see it ticking away inside mommy and daddy’s head.
Q Your stepdad wouldn’t let you see Star Wars?
S No, my stepdad was busy making models and Nerf balls. He would put in twelve hours then he’d come home, he’d pick the metal shavings out of his fingers, he’d sit and read his newspaper in his lazy boy chair and he’d watch the news. Then he’d watch Wild Kingdom of Omaha. That was really the only time his manhood ever came out. He would cheer that cheetah on. “Kill that fucking gazelle! YEAH!” It was an interesting nature show. It was a half-hour long and it was hosted by a man who, as best as I could tell, the only thing that kept him upright was formaldehyde. He presented himself as being extremely book knowledgeable about all of these wild animals – typically exotic and African. He was about as white as it could get. He had totally white hair. White eyebrows. Maybe he was an albino. The show worked its way through the thirty minutes, culminating in some form of innocent animal dying in the grasps of some other animal. Quite frankly, I only really tuned in because there was some kind of life that finally lit up in my father’s eyes. Then, and the day he came home when he got fired. Those were the only times I really saw him animated. Other than that, he was browbeaten and bitch whipped – poor son of a gun – by the tool and die shop he worked for. He got fired because he kicked a guy in the ass. The guy was using the lathe in a manner that was not up to his standards. The guy had been warned. This time he decided he would walk up behind him, while he was using the lathe, and shove his leg up his ass. I think something in that little 4' 11" man snapped and he finally said, “My god. This is the way to make Star Wars models and Nerf balls! If you’re not going to do it my way then there’s no other fucking way this is going to happen!” He threw down the gauntlet. Then the gauntlet landed on him and he was out of a job.
Q It’s something to see a man alive, isn’t it?
S Yeah. It was good to see. It was good to see. He came home and reported it proudly. The woman he loved and brought to this country said, “Are you a fucking idiot!?” Then they had a really really huge fight. Almost as huge as all the other fights they had every night. Then he got another job – one that paid him almost twice as much. He brought home his first pay cheque and went, “See!?” and he was even more alive. This is where the unfortunate part comes in because, you know, life always beats the shit out of you. He came home the following day and said, “I was fired.” At which point the missus said, “Yeah, kinda figured.” He was fired this time because a guy who had been working there for fifteen years said, “Hey, so you got your first pay cheque. How much did you get paid?” and he was dumbass stupid enough to tell him. The guy who had been working there for fifteen years went to his boss and said, “You son of a bitch, I’ve been working here for fifteen years and I’m making less than this guy who just got hired!?” Since that was in the good old days, the boss said to my father, “You’re fired.” Then he was able to pay the other guy more. All of which made for a really shitty Christmas full of Nerf balls for me. I got two Nerf balls. I didn’t ask for any. I think in retrospect it’s all understandable but when you’re a kid getting Nerf balls… What else would you like to know about my life?
Q Depends on how late it is. Do you have class tomorrow morning?
S Yeah, if I go.
Q Why wouldn’t you?
S Secretly? Confessions?... Tomorrow’s class is Plastics Fabrication, which is right across from the metal shop. Quite frankly, it reminds me of tool and die and Nerf balls. There’s this tension inside of me – that I never really appreciated the things I had when I was a kid and that for some reason I’m drawn to those things now like a moth to the light and to admit that is pretty difficult because it means… I don’t know what it means. Maybe it means that I lacked foresight. Maybe it means I didn’t appreciate the relationship I had with my father – stepfather. Maybe it means that I’m just maturing. Maybe it means that maturing is some kind of cliché word for “becoming an old fucker”. I think more than anything, it means way too much introspection that I would like to avoid and the best way to do that… I know that there’s a lot of things that you really wanted for Christmas, but this year you’re getting a Nerf ball.
Q Are you trying to tie up the interview? Is that what you’re doing here?
S No, we’re fucking done. I need another drink.
Q Okay, just one more question. Why do you have a fear of the metal shop?
S I think because every generation is fully aware of the generation that preceded them and their demise… and to assume, even if it’s secretly, that you wish to follow in that generation’s footsteps, that you have any fondness for any part of that generation, it is to assume responsibility for your own ultimate demise.
…
S I’m thinking I do this repeatedly to this icon then work my way up to bigger, more human ones like Ronald McDonald.
Q Ronald McDonald’s not human.
S Clowns aren’t human?
Q No.
S What else would you like to talk about?
Q Dunno. What could we possibly have left to talk about? What don’t I know about you?
S You want to dredge up something you know nothing about?
Q Well, I don’t know about that. The way you say it. The intonation doesn’t sit well with me.
S The pre-Internet days when things could be hidden. Hmmm… You know I had a secret pension for White Castle hamburgers when I was a teenager.
Q Did I know that?
S Yes.
Q How do you know I know that?
S Because I used to explain to you how I’d go across the border to the White Castle by Tiger Stadium. That was the only burger joint I knew of where I could be greeted by an armed guard going in one door and a different armed guard going out the other door. It felt cool to eat shitty hamburgers in a dangerous place. It was a super rebellious thing to do.
Q You grew up in Windsor. That wasn’t bad enough?
S What? Windsor? Seemed fine to me last time I surfed the top of a vehicle.
Q You did that before the Internet? You could have started something.
S I did start something. It was called the police officer’s attention.
Q Oh no. This doesn’t have to do with that guy who fell out of a truck, does it?
S No, that’s a totally different story.
Q All right. Why were you on a moving vehicle?
S I thought it was cool to do stunts. You watch movies or cop shows and guys are on top of cars.
Q How old were you?
S I got my license at sixteen, so I was sixteen.
Q And whose car were you on?
S Well there… It was… I mean… The car… Technically…
Q This happened multiple times, didn’t it?
S Maybe.
Q That’s why you can’t give me specifics.
S Anyway! I wasn’t the only one.
Q What is that called? Ghost riding? Or is that only when nobody’s in the car?
S I never did that. I was very responsible. Anyway…
Q You were very responsible? You sat on top of a moving car. You weren’t even on the hood.
S I didn’t sit. I was lying down. It’s more aerodynamic.
Q Roughly, how many times did you do this?
S I dunno.
Q Countless!?
S Often enough.
Q Was it that interesting? Were you that bored?
S It wasn’t out of boredom. It… is a difficult thing to explain. You know?
Q No.
S It wasn’t virtual. Shortly after we downed a couple egg rolls at the Chinese place – and this was sober…
Q Just egg rolls?
S Yeah, absolutely. Not high in any way. Then we would pop up on top of the car and go for a ride.
Q How many people would be on top of the car at a time?
S Just one.
Q You took turns?
S Yeah. Just with a group of friends.
Q How many kilometers an hour?
S We went the speed limit. We never sped. We didn’t break the law.
Q I don’t think it’s legal to ride atop a car.
S I read my manual very carefully when I got my license and nowhere in there did it say I was not allowed to ride people on top of the vehicle.
Q And what did the police officer say?
S He agreed that it’s in fact true, but that he’d still arrest my ass and I could sort it out with a judge afterwards. And he got out the handcuffs to show me that he was serious and I said, “Well, if I promised you that I would never do this again…
Q You were on top of the car this time?
S I was actually driving. It turns out they couldn’t arrest a guy for being a dumbass but they could arrest a guy for being a dumb driver. Also, the guy on top of the car has a much quicker escape route because he’s not leaving a vehicle running.
Q He fled?
S He didn’t really run as much as he slid off and walked away, which was a very cool way of exiting the scene.
Q And that was fine with the cop?
S That’s what I pointed out and that’s when the cop pointed out that he’s really interested in the jackass who was driving. I said, “If you were here yesterday it wouldn’t have been me that was driving.” But that did not endear him to me. That was the last ride.
Q What did you guys do after that?
S After that we started the dead flower business. We would rob graves of their flowers and sell them to high school friends who hated their ex-partners. We would deliver them. It was sort of a play on the bullshit that would go on at Christmas and grad and especially Valentines when you buy flowers for that person you want to fuck and then not ever again. You buy things that used to be flowers for that person you’ll never get to fuck almost ever again.
Q Very poetic.
S I also worked at the corner store for like five years. Consequently, I got to miss out on a lot of fine parties. And most regrettably, there was one that was around the corner, and a guy had had just a few too many drinks. He thought he was possessed by a demon. Fortunately, they came to me for help because they knew I had connections with a minister. We all attended church regularly. It was determined at the party that what this supremely drunk guy who was possessed needed was clergy.
Q Did you guys get one?
S Hell yeah! The only thing that really livens up a party is an exorcism.
Q Did your friends come to the corner store?
S Not the possessed guy of course. He was busy channeling demons.
Q Maybe demons needed milk.
S A couple of them came over and explained the situation to me. I said to them, “I know this minister, usually he’s got Thursday nights off. What you should do is have a royal exorcism.” I called him and said, “There’s a guy. He’s at a party. He’s into Dungeons & Dragons and we all know how evil that is. Quite often he listens to these records that if we turn them backwards… Zeppelin records with naked children on the covers. I don’t know, I’m not there. I’m working like a good protestant boy should be on a school night. You might want to stop over because I think this is legit. You should check it out.” So he did. He exorcised a lot of puke from the guy and sobered him up a little bit. Friday was a kickass day to be in school. That was the day Todd was renamed Damien – as in from the Omen – for the remainder of high school. He was good with it. It was a couple of notches up from Todd who plays Dungeons & Dragons. But who am I to cast stones when I was busy trying to work my way up the chess club ranks?
Q Is that why you learned to play chess? I thought it was because your stepfather played chess.
S Actually it was my grandfather who played chess. My stepfather – he didn’t play any games. My stepfather just made cool shit but failed to explain to me why it was cool.
Q Hey, that’s kind of like art.
S He made a lot of the first Star Wars models – the forms for them, and all the Nerf balls that came out. When he brought home a prototype, I’d be like, “What the hell is this?” Especially the Nerfs balls. “Why are you giving me a ball made of sponge? You think I’m a fucking moron? That I can’t handle a real ball?” So we had this real tension in our relationship as a result of it. I might have been nine around that time. He couldn’t really speak to the cultural value of it, especially since it hadn’t been made. It wasn’t being advertised. It didn’t exist, except for in my hand because I got the single prototype or there were only a few prototypes out there. The movie hadn’t come out or the commercial hadn’t been made. And I wasn’t allowed to see Star Wars. It was this whole concept of “if there are aliens, it means that there’s more than humans. If there’s more than humans that means… Wait, Christ died for sins of mankind. What did he do for the aliens? Did he have to die for the aliens? Did he have to die multiple times then? If he didn’t have to die multiple times, if he just had to die for humans, does that mean that aliens are god-like? Wait, then aliens are god? Awe no, see? You’re not going to see that movie.” But all of that conversation was silent. You could just kind of see it ticking away inside mommy and daddy’s head.
Q Your stepdad wouldn’t let you see Star Wars?
S No, my stepdad was busy making models and Nerf balls. He would put in twelve hours then he’d come home, he’d pick the metal shavings out of his fingers, he’d sit and read his newspaper in his lazy boy chair and he’d watch the news. Then he’d watch Wild Kingdom of Omaha. That was really the only time his manhood ever came out. He would cheer that cheetah on. “Kill that fucking gazelle! YEAH!” It was an interesting nature show. It was a half-hour long and it was hosted by a man who, as best as I could tell, the only thing that kept him upright was formaldehyde. He presented himself as being extremely book knowledgeable about all of these wild animals – typically exotic and African. He was about as white as it could get. He had totally white hair. White eyebrows. Maybe he was an albino. The show worked its way through the thirty minutes, culminating in some form of innocent animal dying in the grasps of some other animal. Quite frankly, I only really tuned in because there was some kind of life that finally lit up in my father’s eyes. Then, and the day he came home when he got fired. Those were the only times I really saw him animated. Other than that, he was browbeaten and bitch whipped – poor son of a gun – by the tool and die shop he worked for. He got fired because he kicked a guy in the ass. The guy was using the lathe in a manner that was not up to his standards. The guy had been warned. This time he decided he would walk up behind him, while he was using the lathe, and shove his leg up his ass. I think something in that little 4' 11" man snapped and he finally said, “My god. This is the way to make Star Wars models and Nerf balls! If you’re not going to do it my way then there’s no other fucking way this is going to happen!” He threw down the gauntlet. Then the gauntlet landed on him and he was out of a job.
Q It’s something to see a man alive, isn’t it?
S Yeah. It was good to see. It was good to see. He came home and reported it proudly. The woman he loved and brought to this country said, “Are you a fucking idiot!?” Then they had a really really huge fight. Almost as huge as all the other fights they had every night. Then he got another job – one that paid him almost twice as much. He brought home his first pay cheque and went, “See!?” and he was even more alive. This is where the unfortunate part comes in because, you know, life always beats the shit out of you. He came home the following day and said, “I was fired.” At which point the missus said, “Yeah, kinda figured.” He was fired this time because a guy who had been working there for fifteen years said, “Hey, so you got your first pay cheque. How much did you get paid?” and he was dumbass stupid enough to tell him. The guy who had been working there for fifteen years went to his boss and said, “You son of a bitch, I’ve been working here for fifteen years and I’m making less than this guy who just got hired!?” Since that was in the good old days, the boss said to my father, “You’re fired.” Then he was able to pay the other guy more. All of which made for a really shitty Christmas full of Nerf balls for me. I got two Nerf balls. I didn’t ask for any. I think in retrospect it’s all understandable but when you’re a kid getting Nerf balls… What else would you like to know about my life?
Q Depends on how late it is. Do you have class tomorrow morning?
S Yeah, if I go.
Q Why wouldn’t you?
S Secretly? Confessions?... Tomorrow’s class is Plastics Fabrication, which is right across from the metal shop. Quite frankly, it reminds me of tool and die and Nerf balls. There’s this tension inside of me – that I never really appreciated the things I had when I was a kid and that for some reason I’m drawn to those things now like a moth to the light and to admit that is pretty difficult because it means… I don’t know what it means. Maybe it means that I lacked foresight. Maybe it means I didn’t appreciate the relationship I had with my father – stepfather. Maybe it means that I’m just maturing. Maybe it means that maturing is some kind of cliché word for “becoming an old fucker”. I think more than anything, it means way too much introspection that I would like to avoid and the best way to do that… I know that there’s a lot of things that you really wanted for Christmas, but this year you’re getting a Nerf ball.
Q Are you trying to tie up the interview? Is that what you’re doing here?
S No, we’re fucking done. I need another drink.
Q Okay, just one more question. Why do you have a fear of the metal shop?
S I think because every generation is fully aware of the generation that preceded them and their demise… and to assume, even if it’s secretly, that you wish to follow in that generation’s footsteps, that you have any fondness for any part of that generation, it is to assume responsibility for your own ultimate demise.