He asked me if I wanted to influence people. The question rattled me. Right in the middle of a conversation about the display of color, and how it ties to math, he interrupts me. It was puzzling. Why did he ask? What made him ask? And what was my answer?
Turning to face him the wall darkened. Saturated with copper color the shadows ran down the wall and off the bill of his hat to cover his face. I was watching the copper dripping into the black searching for an answer or at least something to stop him from continuing on a path of questions that could change my life, I started to speak. Knowing I had paused for a second over too long, I started to speak. I had no idea what I was going to say. Yet, I said,
“I don’t want to personally help people unless they ask for it... I want to help everybody as much as possible. I’m not trying to help, impress, or get you to change. I just know there is something out there that we’re close to. I don’t know what it is. It’s like Nikola. When Tesla made those discoveries we wouldn’t apply those to what he said it could do for another 100 years. Now the more “futuristic” we get the closer we get to all technology based on his patents, inventions, and ideas. I’m not sure any of this will influence anybody but it may change their perspective. It’s the diamond angle theory.”
I thought I responded well. Still trailing behind in my mind as I picked up the words to understand the last of what I just said. He was sitting in a thinking pose. Hand to his chin in the thumb and index gun staring at the lamp. He pulled his finger gun from his face. He shot a question over. As he turned to me with that finger gun he stated, asked, and asked again,
“That’s cheating, everybody knows He’s the father of modern technology. Steve and Bill follow him pretty close to now’a days. And dude, you don’t give your friends advice? I mean, do your friends need to ask for you to give them your advice?”
He sneered at the end of his last question. Just in time to hear our third friend chime in. He said through a shit-eating grin,
“Listen, bud. I know we’ve all told you to shut up, many times. We mean it with love though”
I squinted with a fake laugh as I whipped back,
“Friends, depending on what kind, and how close, are agreeing to my input on most manners.”
“Listen, what if you think you’re friends but you're really not.” The third man chirped as he watched the jokes punchline land square on my chin.
The first was back into the conversation with a nice long shot down the fairway. “And what’s the theory at the end? What was this bullshit?”
I smirked, but before I could answer, he added for a nice skip and roll up to the green for a par shot.
“I know you wanna explain that one too...”
“I do as a matter of fact. Well, it’s not actually fact. It’s just a general theory of life in comparison with crystals.”
“Oh lord, you’re into crystals now?” One said as they both let out a roar with a loud laugh.
“No, not like that” I snarled back. “ It’s about cutting and how it’s cut. You see when a crystal is cut certain angles work best for certain crystals. Imagine diamonds, you know the ones you’ll one day regret you bought for a woman. There are infinite ways to cut them. The cuts differentiate the diamond. Some were expensive, some admired more. We have to have these angles. Some cuts and angles of cutting are less preferred or popular. Some make the carbon shine and sparkle more, some less. With any of these cuts, we didn’t know what we were getting until the end. Until we can hold the finished product in our hand to examine. Even if we knew the angles of the chemical bonds and how they would refract and reflect light I wouldn’t say it’s for sure until I hold the cut stone in my hand. The best angles of all couldn’t have been found without going through many attempts before it. So even if a sixty-degree cut looks beautiful, how are we sure a thirty won’t look twice as good? Take life this way, find your angle.”
“What are you? The back of a tea bottle full of diamonds?” The friend who began the conversation said. They gave each other the look of “Oh, Fuckin Burned” as they laughed again, you know, for way too long.
“I mean he had a point if he called it perspective and not angle. I just don’t like how he’s saying a perspective can’t accompany a few angles or diamonds.”
“Yeah, I don’t even like diamonds. Motha’ Fucka’ wants rubies.” He spat as he sent himself off on another rocking chair laugh track.
“But I mean all I am trying to say is it is like being at the eye doctor. It doesn’t matter how good or bad your eyes are. Everybody’s are different, everybody will like one lens (or angle) over the other, and they all will eventually be better with correction.”
With a look of inebriation and confusion, the first man stumbled through his question, “Why did you have to go and add that to confuse me. We’re talking about diamonds and glasses and I don’t own either.”
It was during their wild pointy finger laughing fit when the conclusion sank in. I wanted to influence people. I didn’t know how I would do it. I just knew that’s why I loved writing, performing, and why I loved making art. I could influence as many as possible. That is what I want to do. So that’s why I started. That’s why I’ll continue. That’s why I want to go into something that provides the most for the people I’m around. That’s what makes me the happiest. That’s all I know that actually brings me joy.
“So Snapple diamond, You gonna drink this beer or just sit there and look like you’re coming up with a good idea?”
I turned back to the two fucks. I was a fuck too, but if only they knew. “Yeah, I’ll have one more.”