Brew Through

[In retrospect, I think this is one of my favorite random conversations with R.Y. ever. -K]

Crashing into sleep, my body was in the middle of complete shutdown, when I heard a rabid buzzing. The cell’s motor purring, shaking the table. I stumble out of futon and flip the phone open. It’s R.Y.

R.Y.: Hey, K.T.

K.T.: Hey, R.Y.

R.Y.: Did I wake you up? (Normal people don’t sleep at 2200. I have never been normal.)

K.T.: No, no, it’s fine. What’s up? (Yet another of the functional lies I tell to get through a day. If he’s calling me this “late,” then it’s going to be either very serious, or very inconsequential. I’m not willing to take that chance that it’s inconsequential.)

R.Y.: Oh, OK, I was worried that I was going to wake you up. (Fair enough, he knows that I sleep early.)

K.T.: No, it’s OK, I was taking care of stuff, what’s up? (Taking care of sleeping for the night.)

R.Y.: What does “brew” mean?

K.T.: “Brew”? (I thought I misunderstood him.)

R.Y.: Yeah, “brew.” Like, would you “brew” soups or stews?

K.T.: “Stew?” (I had been just tired enough to be half-dreaming, or believe myself to be half-dreaming.)

R.Y. Yeah, is it wrong to say you brew soup or stew? (Whenever R.Y. has a definitional question, he calls me up. It keeps me on my toes, much as random assaults on the person keep you alert. Damned if I ever get stuck on the spot with a word I don’t know, because then I’d need to hit the dictionary.com. Which R.Y. could easily have done. Actually, what a lot of people could have done over the years. I got lucky with my role as unofficial word guy, and now unofficial legal counsel. Then again, sending someone to Black’s Law Dictionary is kinda painful. Might as well just put them out of their misery.)

K.T.: Uh. Stew. No, I would brew a potion or a concoction, but I would not brew a soup or stew. It always struck me more as a scientific thing? (I would prove myself wrong over the next fifteen seconds.)

R.Y.: Oh, OK. Well, what about coffee or tea? (He’s feeling the boundaries, a smart thing to do when he references brewing in the future, or when he doesn’t want to embarrass himself by saying “Oh, I’m brewing some soup.” Makes it sound like he’s a witch, a witch! Burn him!)

K.T.: Yeah. You brew coffee, you, you brew tea. (I was thinking you steeple tea. Then I remembered you steep a tea bag in water. Then I remembered you can brew tea. Then I remembered I didn’t know what the hell was the point of all this.)

R.Y.: Well, what about beer? (What about beer?)

K.T.: Yeah, beer, brew.

R.Y.: Damn. Wow, I was wrong. (It came out more as a yell at this point.)

K.T.: Huh? What are you wrong about? (Calling me at ten, though really, it should be on me to stay up a little longer.)

R.Y.: I was talking with my cousin, and we were arguing about if you brew soups and stews. He said no, I said yes. (To be fair, I’m not entirely sure what the answer is, but my rationale was the following: )

K.T.: I always thought brewing was not so much with stewing. I don’t think that connotation works. (What a worthless statement. Really, the only reason why I don’t think you brew stew is because, like many other things in my life, it just didn’t sound right. That’s how I spell, that’s how I edit. I may not know the exact rule, but I’ve been reading and writing for so long, I just go with what feels right. There are errors, and a few things like whether you spell prize with a z or an s is correct, but for the most part, it serves me quite well.)

At this point, our conversation continued for a little longer, thankfully not about brews. I don’t remember what I said, but when we hung up, I pulled out a dry-erase marker and wrote “R.Y. – definition of brew” on the whiteboard, then went to sleep.

***

I visited N.C.I. yesterday, and talked to J.T., “fresh” off of her maternity leave. (Side note: Why do I know so many people with the first name letter “J”? J.B., J.C., J.F., J.L., J.L., J.R., J.R., J.T., J.T., J.Y., J.Y. Why is there so much initial overlap? Is this related to my naming all my computers names with the letter “J” until recently? Is “J” the reoccurring letter in my life?) J.T. said she thought she heard me, her polite way of implying I am loud and brash. Really, in my old stomping grounds, I am. I know I am no longer gainfully employed, but a part of me is still there.

J.T. confirmed what had been implied by the simple fact they had never deleted my main computer files. Any time I want a position in V.W., I’ve got it. In a way, I still live on. J.R. showed me that one of the files I’d created for work, she’d been given as a template for her own procedures. Notable for the fact that I was still in l-school mode, as the phrase “assumption of duties” cropped up several times.

I still think about it, and I don’t know if it’s just wistful longing for a simpler time. It might be that my time at N.C.I. has taken on a golden glow, and were I to actually make the step and immerse myself in it again, I’d hate it. I do know that I can’t afford it any more now than I could then, the main/only sticking point. If I could sustain myself with something on the side, I’d do it. The question is what.

The only viable option, the only viable option ever, is to write and get published. The problem is that it won’t generate enough money for years, maybe decades. Plus, I can do that now, so I might as well try not to starve as a tech. writer instead of a voice writer. But damn, even though I now knock on the door to my old office when I go in, it still feels like home. I come in to my L.M. office, and it’s just the desk where I keep my food and computers.