Putting on Airs

their own health insurance, purchase Flat Track Derby coverage for an annual fee--out of pocket. Each skater pays league dues, signs liability waivers. Though only recommended, MOAB believes in wearing a protective bite-guard and hard-shells on her wrists.

When a student raises her questioning hand in my wife ’ s class, pearly whites flash out at all the brilliance, while a strong scrawl writes PATIENCE and PERSISTENCE on the board. She goes over the Rules: it’ s a game of positioning,

timing, engagement, assists, target zones and blocks; their history ’ s always been about moving fast to avoid, but handling the trips, impacts, and the arguable penalties. The voice of experience tells them: once you ’ ve mastered communication and entered the revolutions of the game,

nothing can truly knock you over the rails—if somebody busts you, you get back on that track. Doesn ’t matter if you ’ re a blocker or a jammer in this life--if you want a piece of the action, gear up--get ready for full contact. Don ’t let anyone keep you from the goal. It’ s called winning. It’ s a good way to roll.

The Wayne Literary Review: Escapism

ScottT. Hutchison

I like to think that I’ m original, that I sail the decks of an exclusive ship, along a windy sea of plenty. Disguised, I pirate porches—seasonally--for a mere two months a year. I pilfer only Omaha Steaks. I recognize Styrofoam treasure chests with dry ice in their veins--and suddenly I’ m grapple-hooked and boarding, swashbuckling with arms full of booty toward two large freezers humming in the criminal cold of my basement.

I scoff at what the indiscriminate idiot-bandits out there discover: boxes full of crawling mealworms, glitter bombs sly-packaged just for pilfering rogues. The only stooping I do knows nothing about the contents of paper packages tied up with charitable strings. I anchor myself a spyglass-length back from the brown-truck hub, pursuing as the fleet sails for various horizons; I pick a different target each day. Follow at an honest distance. And when I see that snow-colored Nebraska label, I’ m already tasting bacon-wrapped filets, sirloin burgers, salivating over the prospects: marinated flank steak, stuffed sole with crabmeat.

If you ’ re fancy enough to quick-order gourmet combos from that flat corporate piece of cattle-land, then I imagine you have enough money to handle a few complaint line calls without it being too personal. Your delayed and exasperated issues will be fixed and shipping out again. Me, I spend a jaunty November and December in a sea-shanty chorus of Polynesian pork chops, caramel apple tartlets, jumbo franks and chocolate lover ’ s cakes.

The Wayne Literary Review: Escapism