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Category:
Memoir
The events and characters in this book are real. Names have been changed to protect the emotions and self esteem of most, if not all of the characters in this book. The writer would like to stress the fact that she is not prejudice towards right- wing fundlementalist Christians, although it may appear that way. Also, no animals were harmed or killed during the making of this book.
This is a witty and fun novel in the works. The title basically reflects the subject matter of the book. "It is what it is", say it enough and you may actually believe it. This is a true story of a woman in her late twenties who leaves her cubical NJ life behind for a new life of cattle ranching in Northern Colorado. The characters she meets, the situations she is put in, and the reflections upon her childhood bring about a humorous take on life. Attempting to make both the reader and the author to understand and accept the simple fact that it is what it is.
Excerpt
It is what it is
Chapter Two Page 3
"A long time friend I had grown up with found his birth-mother, and instead of pitching a tent in his own backyard like me, he decided to jump on his bicycle and pitch a tent in South America. During this excursion, I typed away at my cubical with his birth-mother, for we had exchanged e-mails to keep up with Jay's trip together. He decided to stay in his tent for six months, going through some sort of odd awakening in finding his actual genes. Instead of running to her however, he decided it was best to ride, ride, ride in South America, and hand out rosaries to people he thought were "special". Funny, because he was never religous before, actually he despised even discussing the topic.
I typed away, getting to know this "Mutter Utter", as I liked to call her, this hippie from Phili, who married a Colorado cattle rancher, and gave up Jay for adoption when she was 17. This for him, turned out to be a blessing. For this peddling South America tent pitching rosarie pusher was adopted by no other than the NJ mob. The nicest Italian garbage company running, knee-breaking, Brooklyn pier owning, family on the block. The kid had everything you could ever dream of, and man, could that mother of his make a mean meatball.
We talked on the phone and typed for months. Mostly, we laughed like new "old" friends.
When 6 months had passed and my silly friend just had to ride his bike back from Newark Airport to my house to prove some silly point that silly people handing out crucifixes in South America can ride bikes on the silly NJ Turnpike. He eventually arrived and he and his birth- mother surprised me with a ticket to visit this thing called a cattle ranch. Now, this Jersey girl didn't know a jack ass from a horse, or that "shutting up the chickens" didn't actually mean run out there and yell "WOULD YOU CHICKENS PLEASE SHUT THE HELL UP!", but on the plane she went. Much to the dismay of her seven year Martha Stewart loving, and extremly controlling girlfriend.
It was a six day visit that turned into ten days. I have to admit, at first my mind did wander to thoughts like, where is the pavement? Dunkin Donuts? What in God's name do you people do for fun out here? After about four days something changed. I remember being on the back of Jay's motorcycle, (he traded in the bicycle at this point, guess the fucker was tired of peddling) we were riding up a mountain over a clearing. The sky opened up and God spoke. I saw a burning bush. The seas began to part, the water turned to wine, nah I am kidding. I did however have what some, perhaps the plumber, would call a revalation. The Mummy Range. What an odd and kind of morbid name for a revalation. It's a simple snow-capped mountain range nestled in the Rockies. Yet, a range that for some reason captured me. On second thought it could have been the view, or the motorcycle ride that literally brought me to tears. It could have been the Mutter-Utter and her beautiful family which consisted of a malignant brain tumor surviving 16 year old girl. Who's favorite joke was "what did the hot-dog say when it crossed the finish line? The answer of course, "I am the weiner". That she was, "the weiner", a 16 year old stuck in the mentality of a 5 year old girl forever. With the loss of ambulation, she would crawl across the living room floor with a sense of humor and hugs to share that truly need to be bottled. It could have been the lifestyle, the cows and open space. The only thing I was certain of was my life was about to change forever. Mutter Utter asked me to come out in the summer and give cattle ranching a try, they needed the help, and I looked like I could use the change.
I once wrote a poem about how much I despised Jersey. It rhymed and was quite clever actually. At the time I loathed the place. It's pollution, rude people, traffic, the only thing good about it was the food. Yet, it is my birthplace, and it did provide a nest for the people I love. Now, it was time to say farewell.
So, I unlike Jay, rode a taxi from Newark Airport back home, for the last time. I remember rolling down the window and inhaling the toxins, looking deeply at the neon Anheuser- Bush sign, and as the cab rode past the New York City skyline I stared at the buildings lit up in the evening sky. Not knowing they would never look the same to me, nor to anyone.
Now began the process of quitting my well-paying job, telling my family and friends, and telling my girlfriend. Three words I heard often during that time were not "I love you", or, "I'll miss you", it went rather poetically like this, "Are you nuts?""
copyright2008:ellishenry
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