CHECKING IN ON NOMAN
I had not heard or seen Noman in a while. Not since he started working for his father. We met for lunch. The teenage awkwardness had pretty much fallen away. Even his hair was nearly combed. He wore coveralls and looked like a mechanic though he actually now worked for his father’s insulation company.
I asked how he was.
That meaningless question is always a glib and slightly uncomfortable way to start a conversation. When the phone rings and someone asks me how I am doing, I hang up.
Anyway, Noman replied, “fine.” That being the glib and slightly uncomfortable answer to my question.
He had a good job, a nice house, a car and a girlfriend, but was decidedly grumpy about it. I reacted with a bit of surprise as the last time I had seen him he had none of that.
“So what’s the problem?” I asked.
“This,” he said pointing to the name on the coveralls. I chuckled. The name on the garment was spelled “Norman,” Noman with an “R” in the middle. Noman was named for his great grandfather, Noman, who had a misprinted birth certificate.
He said “NoRman” was taking over his life. More and more people called him “Norman” since he had started the job.
“Get new name tags,” I snarkily suggested.
He ignored me and told me how his father had given him a good job, his aunt had left him to house/car sit while she was in a kibbutz, and that he had been matched with a girl by an on-line dating site.
He tightly pressed his lips together.
“It is all so normal, so Norman. I am only 20 years old and have made no decisions about what I want. Here I am. A pre ordained life set up just waiting to be lived out.”
I saw a slight shudder roll through his body.
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All any of us want to know is if we are valid. Some of us beg for others to tell us that we are, though the opinions of people are worthless, while others of us tell ourselves we are valid and don’t require the opinion of others. That is a closed system and is certainly faulty.
The need for a god is that there is some rock-solid unshakable thing that can judge our existence with truth and objectivity. But what can one do? There are no rock-solid unshakable things.
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So I looked at him and said to take the rest of the day off. “Go down to the river bank and sit for a while and watch for the solution to come floating by you. If no one is around, masturbate. That will release good chemicals into your brain and make you more receptive.
Tomorrow, send me an email and tell me what happened.”
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I was bullshitting him. Well. largely bullshitting him. I was telling him to relax and that is always step one toward any solution. I have no idea what he will see, if anything. I have no idea how his mind will make connections out of coincidences that aren’t really there. At worst it would be a bit of an unplanned adventure. It is always good to break routines. Telling him to masturbate was a freebie just because I am a nice guy. I could already see that he prefers to let things come to him, that is how he got into this non-critical mess. Being that kind of guy, sitting down and waiting for a solution to float by is as good a move as any.
It became a bit of adventure for me as well. I looked forward to hearing if there was an epiphany or just a relaxing afternoon at the river. Either would be a vicarious experience for me. I hoped for an email early the next day.
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No email came. I felt a little disappointed. A week later I heard from him. I asked if he saw anything at the river after our lunch. He said he didn’t go to the river. He went back to work. But he said I had really helped him with my suggestion. I asked what suggestion he meant. He said, “I got a new name tag with “Noman’ spelled correctly.”