What is this Place
Earlier this month, I named my mind Terry. Terry tells me that the driver who just cut me off in traffic should die as soon as possible. Terry tells me to start up my fantastic cigarette habit again. Terry tells me to leave the dinner table to jerk off. When I notice Terry offering up some interesting thoughts, I thank him for his service and let him know that I’ve got it from here.
I then take a breath and relax my grip on the steering wheel.
Or I exit the smoke shop with nothing but a Perrier from the cold case.
Or I zip up my pants and focus on the cioppino that Zora’s family lovingly crafted for tonight’s dinner.
This is a place for me to dance publicly with Terry, and I would like to invite you to dance with us too.
If I died after clicking “publish,” I would not likely look back and think: thank god I shared that piece on substack, thank god my buddies read these words. But if this goes out to thirty people, and fifteen read it, and then I have just two or three meaningful conversations with friends new and old about what I wrote and how it landed, then I could look back on this piece as a success.
So please, don’t watch me dance with Terry here all by my lonesome. Court us for a threeway. We’re eager to oblige.
Write me at campbell.b.dixon@gmail.com to start up a conversation.
-Campbell