Alexplorer Goes Time Traveling...

If you're just joining this series already in progress, then it means you don't have a time machine, so here's the short version: Every Tuesday (your present), I come back from my adventures time-traveling around MySpace and fill you in on what happened to people from my past as they keep slippin', slippin', slippin' into the future.

Ah, here's one now...


I grew up with Chip (not his real name).  He was kind of goofy, but he wasn't dumb.  What he was was screwed up.

His dad left his mom and him when he was maybe five or six and headed off to California where he was supposedly doing PCP among other things.  Chip rarely saw his dad more than a handful of times including one visit where he came back only long enough to get his estranged wife pregnant for a second time before disappearing more or less permanently.

Chip's mom necessarily used to work long hours, so he was left alone after he came home from school and all day during the summers.  It wasn't legal to leave a kid his age in an empty house, but the neighbors never reported her because his mom couldn't afford a sitter.

With all this free, unattended time, Chip used to rummage around the house and eventually happened upon a bunch of Playboy, Penthouse, and similar magazines hidden between the mattresses of his mom's bed.  Now maybe these were his dad's from years earlier, but I don't know anyone that goes that long without at least lifting their mattress high enough to change the sheets.  This would also explain his mom's female friend who used to hang out over there all the time.  I don't ever remember her having a boyfriend the entire eight years I lived across the street from them.

Maybe because he was finally putting two and two together and coming up short, Chip was always looking to get into fights with people.  It seemed like that's all he ever talked about, though thankfully he didn't get in too many that I remember.  Still, after a while, I got tired of his shit (including trying to pick fights with me toward the last), and eventually I and some of the other kids on the block just stopped hanging around with him.

The last time I saw him was when I passed through my old neighborhood with my family a couple years after we had moved away.  I was probably about fifteen, and I saw Chip in his front yard with his hair colored Manic Panic neon orange.  Talk about true colors.  This was years before anyone was doing anything like this, and he looked like a freak.

I'm guessing about 80% of his body is covered with tattoos at this point, so now he can look like a freak without the colors running.

After being displaced by Hurricane Katrina, he's living up north as a tattoo artist, appropriately enough.  

At least he finally gets along with his little brother Paxton who, as you might have guessed, he used to pick on incessantly.

Hypothetical letter I'll probably never send to him:

Fess up.  I know you fucking broke my Tron action figure in 1983.


Copyright 2007 Ale[x]plorer.  All photos are of the actual individuals described above because, seriously, I can't make this shit up.
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