THE WIRE; indelible

HBO's "The Wire" is simply one of (if not) the greatest things to ever grace a television screen. I have been catching season 3 on DVD and it is as captivating as ever. The treatment of the gritty inner-city drug trade, the mainly ineffectual police work, and the CYA atmosphere of city politics combine to bring the viewer a thoroughly in-depth and insightful look into the major US city we call Baltimore. For anyone who is even remotely curious about this unbelieveable show, I highly, highly, highly recommend it. However, for those of you who won't be able to catch the show, I thought I would quote a memorable conversation from season 3.

I have thoroughly and utterly ripped off this idea of a Quotes Post from the Sage-man. Sage writes a wonderful blog filled with evocative stories from his past and present. Sage is also a voracious reader like many of the blog buddies I frequent. A few weeks back he came up with the ingenius idea of a post filled with quotes from the books he was reading. I am now going to "borrow" this idea, lol. In fact, I will have a post sometime next week with quotes from the school books that I am reading. Unfortunately, I'm not reading anything non-school related at this time. I am however watching a good amount of TV though. Some of it actually good, lol. "THE WIRE" is clearly something I adore and I thought the best way to share its power would be by paraphrasing a this conversation.

This conversation needs some context so I'll quickly describe the situation. It revolves around the character Dennis "Cutty" Wise. Dennis just completed a 15 year stint in prison for the manslaughter of a rival drug dealer. Something that was simply part of his job as muscle for one of Baltimore's major drug crews. Released from prison he seems to be a changed man, but has trouble finding work. Living in his grandmother's basement, he's trying to stay away from the drug trade. With few options, he tries to track down his old girlfriend. He does so, only to find her living a different, quiet life as a speech teacher in the suburbs. He's removed the mothballs from his suit and catches his old girlfriend, Grace, as she reaches her car on the school parking lot. Wearing the suit, Grace assumes he's returned to the drug game. Dennis explains he's trying to stay away from that. Grace, who seems a slight bit perturbed by his contacting her (though at the same time understanding of his situation), informs him that she is miles away from her old life. After an awkward silence Grace does say she might be able to get him in contact with a Church group that might be able to find him some work. Dennis appreciates the help but is also trying to reconnect with one of the few people he must have thought about for all those years in prison. I found the end of the conversation insightful, poignant, and incisively honest. I'll try my best to remember it from memory, but I am paraphrasing.

(As Grace opens the backseat of her car to place her briefcase, Dennis looks into the backseat to see a baby chair.)

DENNIS: So what's the name of your kid?

GRACE: Allen.

DENNIS: After Iverson?

GRACE: No. (Grace laughs slightly.) After his father.

DENNIS: Oh.

(Awkward Silence)

DENNIS: You know Grace ... seeing you like this ... after all these years ... well, looking at you ... it hurts.

GRACE: Well, then don't look.

(Grace enters her car and drives away.)