Free Advice For The Common People

By Hank Fredo

In little book of ramblings, advice and random story, Hank weaves his experience with friendship, love and loss. He finds a part of him that had been locked away, and he is shocked by the reveal. This is a sneak-peek into the world as Hank experiences it. There is fun, sorrow and a whole lot of chaos in this tiny book. It is a world of its own, formed from what little piece Hank lets us see. He shares grief, and happiness and short moments of love and frustrations. If there is anyone who gives lucidity to words, it is Hank Fredo.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Seagull Editions
• Release date: May 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223179504

Book preview

Intro

The inevitable end of life is a crazy indisputable fact. Makes life pointless sometimes. But then we are reminded, every day, of the pleasure in living. It is an awful struggle, really. It makes me wonder why people waste so much time doing pointless things. Or worrying about stupid things. It guts me daily to see people toss away precious time on things that holds no matter, or helps them in no way.

Man has only a few purposes for living, and all should drive towards giving him peace. Antoine, one of the many people I’d met on my many journeys said that. He was a singer, sang like and entranced bird. Said a lot of sensational things, but often I go back to that line.

There is far too much happening in the world, and with the internet everyone is literally in everyone’s business. Peace has been flung out the window. Everyone wants to be like the people they see in their phones—illusions and make-believes. It is sickening.

The long stretch of falseness.

I guess it is to be expected. We all need some distractions, right? Something to take our minds from the stark, terrifying fact that we are all wasting away.

Gah!

Good Gracious!

It’s like a hive mind in here, I said. I was sitting with three other people. The round wooden table made it look like we—except Jimmy who had his eyes on his phone—were conspiring to do something evil. The bar was noisy with chatter, but most of the people in the bar were talking absentmindedly. Most had their faces illuminated by their screens, eyes glued to their phones as if within the small rectangle in their hands existed their life-support system. It was the worst kind of idiocy.

What? Kimmel asked. His eyes were almost closed, as if he was squinting. He was a bigger man than I was—all muscles and no fat, he liked to say. His hair was greying really fast and he was still in his forties. He’d been saying something about him and his ex-wife getting back together. I listened to some of it and muted the rest. Now he stared at me, his eye too tiny to see, but the rest of his face seemed curious.

I nodded to the rest of the bar. Jimmy looked up then. Leo, or Leonard, smirked. He didn’t like me, and I didn’t hide how much I didn’t care about him too. It was nothing personal. I just couldn’t relate to his work and somehow, I couldn’t find his work in him.

He wrote poetry. Too many of it. And all of them meaningless noise arranged beautifully. There was musicality to his books, but no meaning. It always felt like walking aimlessly in a meadow. Pointless.

What did the bar people do to you now, Hank? Jimmy asked. I snorted, picked my bottle of beer and took a swig. It was tiring enough that I had to listen to Kimmel talk about his dreadful love life.

Can’t you see how disconnected they all look? I asked, gesturing at the bar with my bottle. I nodded to Jimmy’s phone, which was still alight in his hands. He scoffed but placed the phone on the table. The photo of his wife smiled at the ceiling before the backlight went off.

You have issues with smartphones now? Leo asked. Jimmy scoffed and not for the first time, I wished I’d invited Peter when I got a call to join this meet-out.

Peter would have been a good wingman for this. We’d been friends for so long, longer than I’d ever known any of the people I was sitting with. He is brilliant too, amazing when he decides to be.

I shook my head. It was like sitting with ants in comparison. They were terrible company. Kimmel was grinning. He’d known me the longest. I worked with him some years ago for a minor book I’d published that didn’t sell much, but did enough to have him call me his friend.

"No, Leo." Dumbass.  I have a problem with the way things are right now. Evolution seems to be taking us apart like Legos. For instance, Jimmy hasn’t said a word since he got here.

You haven’t said much either, Leo said.

That is because Kimmel’s love life is boring and repetitive. There is nothing to add there. He knows what my thoughts are. I turned to Kimmel, his mouth was set in a thin smile and he shook his head slowly at me. Kimmel, you guys have separated how many times now? I asked

There was a wet warmth in the bar. My back was slick with sweat and I couldn’t wait to get home to take a bath. I could already see myself coming out of the shower, getting a real drink and sitting to write. There was so much I would rather do than sit out with three idiots.  Not Jimmy, I guess.  Still, it would make an interesting thing to write about in my PC journal.

You don’t have to be cruel about it, Leo said, and I had the sudden urge to laugh. Instead I sighed and sat back on my chair.

The cruel one here is Kimmel.  Good gracious! Peter would have saved me from this intense foolery. He is cruel to himself. And maybe the ex-wife. I looked at Kimmel, he wasn’t smiling anymore, but I was already set in motion. That was one of the problems people find in me. They think they like me at first and maybe they do. The problem comes when they got me talking.

I have never been an easy man to silence once I got to talking. And I never massage anyone’s fucking ego. I sighed, leaned forward on the table and locked eyes with Kimmel. I could easily imagine him back them, excited about my book, excited about the money. He wasn’t very greedy, but like every human he had some of it in him.

Jimmy watched me. I’d known him a while, but there was a smartness to him