The
Crest Figure comes to mind every once in a while, and I wanted
to be sure to include it in the memory-a-day blog. I looked for the
write-up from my story-a-day efforts of seven years ago and when I
found it realized that there was a lot more to what I had put to
paper about the creator of the Crest Figure and so I will take
today's info from the past paragraphs.
Now
I realize that I have already talked about D at least twice in my
posts – D was one of the two guys teasing me during the ceremony at
college graduation, and he was also the one, from a recent post, who
had the formula for getting at least three points of a five point
short essay question by just writing three sentences.
D
was tall, good looking, on the football team, and totally a player
especially in the lady-killer sense of the word. I never had
to worry about him ever asking me out – I was totally not his type
– you might think that would hurt my feelings, but it actually made
it easier to talk to him!
He
loved to eat. One day after sitting down in the cafeteria with a
plate of French fries and gravy, D looked at me and said, “do you
ever get so excited about food that you become orgasmic?”
While food has never gotten me quite that excited, I have
incorporated the expression into my storytelling about other people I
have known and things other than food.
College
was during the midst of the Vietnam War. One day D proposed starting
an underground protest newspaper at the school. He asked if I would
help, but after I said yes, he told me he did not want me being goofy
about it. Can you imagine my being perceived of as goofy in those
days? That was the last I ever heard about an underground newspaper;
I think it never got started, but then again, maybe it was just kept
underground from me!
One
time I asked D if he had gotten a haircut, and he grinned and said,
“Yes, do you like it?” He was very vain and loved compliments.
And I was not one to feed vanity. “No,” I said, “You look like
a coconut.”
D
had started freshman year as a biology major but switched, I think
sophomore year, to an English major. One day he came walking into the
cafeteria laughing. He told us he was taking a creative writing
class, and the teacher took the class much more seriously than the
students did. D decided that particular day it would be fun to mess
with the teacher, and D gleefully offered to read his homework essay
out loud to the class. He then read about a dream he had where he was
inside a very tight room or compartment and the pressure of the walls
closing in on him was great. D said it was like someone was trying to
squeeze him out! The essay continued with more imagery of
martyrdom and sacrifice. The teacher got so excited and was shaking
all over and then he declared, “the Christ figure!” and D
responded, “no! The Crest figure!”
Awesome!
283
20151010 The Crest Figure
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