My Father and I Agree*
On Mexican food
On Ocean’s 11 and the West Wing
On government
We hate rhetoric short enough to fit on a sign
It doesn’t tell the full story
We admit everything is complicated
We do not respect the law
We both go twelve over on Purdue St
We both go a little over on every street no matter what
Most people do that
We both have an instinct to steal
He doesn’t call his stealing, he calls it cunning
We both don’t trust authority
I get that from him
In both senses
We suspect
I am unsure whether he commits tax fraud because I do not know tax law well enough
He is unsure whether I drink in college because he does not know me well enough
I think he smoked a lot of weed before he met my mother just because all of his brothers did and he never said why he wouldn’t
I think his habit of stretching the realm of “only tipsy” might coincide with a habit of driving home drunk
I don’t think he deserved to be sued for copyright infringement
I don’t have much evidence for any of it
Just all of this thinking
We don’t ask
On federal culpability in the 2007 housing crisis
On Apple vs PC
On lifestyle
We ran
He runs
I don’t run anymore because of my knee
Our knees are both fucked up
His from jumping out of planes
He doesn’t see his injury as a reason to stop running.
I see a rainy day as a reason to stop running
We are early risers
He wakes early
Eats breakfast at the same restaurant, same order, 7am.
He organizes his trash cans.
He has an alphabetized collection of over 700 DVDs.
He has his car washed exactly once a week. He buys the washes in bulk, gets a discount.
He would have written a more well-organized outline.
But he wouldn’t have known what to fill it with.
I stumble into work at 5am
And don’t enjoy it.
But I know he would admire me for it.
Sometimes my room gets so messy I can’t clean it.
He would not understand this phenomenon.
On megachurches
On pain
Having a high pain tolerance is important
I admire all his broken ribs from racing mountains bikes.
He never goes to the doctor.
He used to poke me in the ribs when he was teasing.
It hurt quite a bit.
I have a very low pain tolerance.
Sometimes when I stub my toe very hard I bang my head into the wall until it stops hurting
The toe, that is
I think he would be proud.
On Five Guys seasoned fries
On pleasure
How it comes from the sun
How it is found near pools and oceans
We both burn easily
He does not agree, thinks lobster red fading to sun spots is a tan.
We both burn frequently nonetheless.
How it comes from music
The highest calling
He played it, and I love to listen.
He doesn’t play anymore.
(that I know of)
I still love to listen.
How it does not always come from knowledge
For us it comes from uncertainty.
The period between seeing something and knowing what it is.
We would both rather get the other one’s voicemail
We would both rather suppose intentions
We would both rather stop before the complications
The further in we go the less we agree
The more irreconcilable everything gets
On goddamn peace and quiet
On academia
On cities
On being scrappy, thrifty, independent.
On feeling like we never got much help
We both baby our parents
We both don’t necessarily “get along” with our fathers
We both have fathers less crazy than their fathers
So we are getting somewhere
Albeit slowly
* Assuming nothing has changed since the last time we spoke in person approximately 1 year and 9 months ago.
Hannah Elizabeth Jones is a junior at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. She has been previously published in Cellar Door, Campus Blueprint, Sketchbook, and apt. She was a finalist in the 2016 Livershot Memoir competition.