ext_20824 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
insaneladybug.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
31_days2013-11-13 07:07 am
insaneladybug.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2013-11-13 07:07 am
[November 13th] [The Rockford Files-related] Chronicles of a Friendship, 13
Title: Chronicles of a Friendship, scene 13
Day/Theme: November 13th - Hope Rides Alone
Series: The Rockford Files (using characters from The Queen of Peru episode)
Character/Pairing: Ginger Townsend, Lou Trevino
Rating: K+/PG
By Lucky_Ladybug
Being a cynic, Ginger wondered sometimes how Lou could have hope as he did. When he had asked Lou about it once, he had received a surprising answer.
“It’s funny that you think you don’t have hope, Ginger,” Lou mused, cradling a mug of hot chocolate in his hands. “I’m not sure I’ve met many people who have more hope than you.”
“What?” Ginger scoffed. “Hope is the opposite of reality. I am a realist, a skeptic, a cynic.”
Lou half-smiled. “And yet you never gave up. When the reality all around you was poverty and sickness and drafty old houses, you wouldn’t accept that. You insisted you weren’t gonna stay there, that you were gonna move up in the world. And you did. You fought and clawed and scratched your way out of that world and that life.”
“That was the most realistic way to deal with my situation,” Ginger said. “It was a preposterous situation and I wasn’t going to stay in it.”
“A lot of kids in New York figure that there’s nothing to do but stay in their situations,” Lou said. “How do you think all those street gangs get formed? Most of them are a bunch of pathetic, love-deprived, poverty-stricken kids fighting for what they figure is the only thing they have to hold onto—pieces of sidewalk and road.
“I know a lot of those kids. The last thing they have is hope. They’re the complete opposite of you, Ginger. They would’ve all said you were nuts to fight against reality and try to get something better.”
Ginger frowned, gazing into his own mug. “I never thought of it this way,” he said. “But I knew a lot of youths in London who behaved the same as you’re describing. I never got along with them or particularly liked them.”
“They didn’t have hope or a decent vision for the future,” Lou said. “But you did. I did, too.”
“And yet I am a cynic,” Ginger said. “Far more of one than you. You can’t deny that.”
Lou leaned back. “It is kind of a funny combination, isn’t it. I mean, you really wouldn’t think of a cynic as having hope in anything.”
“I suppose what I’m the most cynical about is human nature,” Ginger mused. “I am extremely misanthropic. But when it comes to myself and what I am capable of accomplishing, I know I’m worth quite a bit. I was always aware I could make something of myself if I had the chance.”
“And you didn’t wait for a chance to drop in your lap,” Lou said. “You went out and saw that you got it.”
“Because that was logical. Nothing was going to happen if I didn’t put forth the effort.” Ginger studied Lou. “So perhaps it comes down to our having different definitions of the word hope. To me it’s usually idealistic foolishness, the complete opposite of logic and reality.”
“I guess sometimes it’s that,” Lou acknowledged. “But sometimes there’s stuff worth having hope in, like that there’s a better life out there that you can get.”
“I suppose what irritates me the most about hope is that I think of it as sitting and twiddling your thumbs, expecting things to go right without doing anything to see that it goes right. People like that are as aggravating as those who sit and think that they have to accept whatever worthless lot they’ve been given, such as the street gangs you mentioned.”
Lou smirked a bit. “They are pretty annoying. I think in a lot of cases, though, hope is when you’ve done all you can, or else you can’t really do anything, and you’re waiting to see how it turns out and trying to think it’ll be the way you want it.”
“Perhaps.” Ginger thought on it. “That’s a kinder definition, one that I suppose works sometimes.”
He paused. “One thing about hope, no matter which definition we’re using. It seems that those who possess it usually stand alone.”
“I guess that’s why they’re remembered so much,” Lou decided. “They don’t just stand alone; they stand out.”
Ginger nodded. “And they’re usually thought of as fools for quite some time. It’s generally only years later when their contributions—if any—are recognized.”
“Yeah,” Lou agreed. “It’s a lonely life.”
They exchanged a look.
“Sometimes loneliness is preferable to the idiots you meet when socializing,” Ginger declared. “Or the fair-weather friends who wouldn’t help you when you were poor but suddenly want favors from you once you’re rich.”
Lou smirked a bit. “You had that too, huh?”
Ginger nodded. “The blokes in the neighborhood were always bothering my parents once I moved up in the world. They kept wanting Mum and Dad to talk to me about helping them out of their little problems.”
“And did they?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Ginger grumbled. “After the first few times I told them I wasn’t interested in hearing the neighbors’ sob stories. More than half of them were exaggerated or even bold-faced lies. But I kept hearing about them anyway. Mum especially wanted me to help them all, even though she knew as well as I did that they’d always be trying to bleed me dry. And Dad wanted me to do favors for his mates from the local.”
Lou sighed and shook his head. “Mike got pestered by some of the neighborhood kids back in New York,” he said. “They’d keep trying to butter him up so he’d talk to me about what they wanted.”
“And let me guess—Michael was easily swayed,” Ginger said dryly.
“Ginger . . .” Lou gave him a disapproving look, but then relented and nodded. “You’re right; he was. If he’d had access to all the money, he would’ve got into so many get rich quick schemes he would’ve bankrupted us several times over.”
“Of course. And I suppose that was how he spent whatever portion of the money he received?”
“Some of it, anyway,” Lou admitted. “After a couple of plans went South, he finally listened when I told him to cut it out and stop listening to those animals.”
“A pity he didn’t apply that advice to Donald Waugh.”
“Yeah,” Lou sighed. “Although all of our jewel heists unraveled because of that double-cross and now we’ve ended up in this place, better off than we were before. So sometimes I wonder if I’m actually grateful to Mike for falling in with Donny Waugh.”
“I can’t imagine ever going that far,” Ginger grunted. “But I’ll agree that good eventually came out of it.” He looked to Lou. “Quite a bit of good.”
Lou smiled.
Day/Theme: November 13th - Hope Rides Alone
Series: The Rockford Files (using characters from The Queen of Peru episode)
Character/Pairing: Ginger Townsend, Lou Trevino
Rating: K+/PG
Being a cynic, Ginger wondered sometimes how Lou could have hope as he did. When he had asked Lou about it once, he had received a surprising answer.
“It’s funny that you think you don’t have hope, Ginger,” Lou mused, cradling a mug of hot chocolate in his hands. “I’m not sure I’ve met many people who have more hope than you.”
“What?” Ginger scoffed. “Hope is the opposite of reality. I am a realist, a skeptic, a cynic.”
Lou half-smiled. “And yet you never gave up. When the reality all around you was poverty and sickness and drafty old houses, you wouldn’t accept that. You insisted you weren’t gonna stay there, that you were gonna move up in the world. And you did. You fought and clawed and scratched your way out of that world and that life.”
“That was the most realistic way to deal with my situation,” Ginger said. “It was a preposterous situation and I wasn’t going to stay in it.”
“A lot of kids in New York figure that there’s nothing to do but stay in their situations,” Lou said. “How do you think all those street gangs get formed? Most of them are a bunch of pathetic, love-deprived, poverty-stricken kids fighting for what they figure is the only thing they have to hold onto—pieces of sidewalk and road.
“I know a lot of those kids. The last thing they have is hope. They’re the complete opposite of you, Ginger. They would’ve all said you were nuts to fight against reality and try to get something better.”
Ginger frowned, gazing into his own mug. “I never thought of it this way,” he said. “But I knew a lot of youths in London who behaved the same as you’re describing. I never got along with them or particularly liked them.”
“They didn’t have hope or a decent vision for the future,” Lou said. “But you did. I did, too.”
“And yet I am a cynic,” Ginger said. “Far more of one than you. You can’t deny that.”
Lou leaned back. “It is kind of a funny combination, isn’t it. I mean, you really wouldn’t think of a cynic as having hope in anything.”
“I suppose what I’m the most cynical about is human nature,” Ginger mused. “I am extremely misanthropic. But when it comes to myself and what I am capable of accomplishing, I know I’m worth quite a bit. I was always aware I could make something of myself if I had the chance.”
“And you didn’t wait for a chance to drop in your lap,” Lou said. “You went out and saw that you got it.”
“Because that was logical. Nothing was going to happen if I didn’t put forth the effort.” Ginger studied Lou. “So perhaps it comes down to our having different definitions of the word hope. To me it’s usually idealistic foolishness, the complete opposite of logic and reality.”
“I guess sometimes it’s that,” Lou acknowledged. “But sometimes there’s stuff worth having hope in, like that there’s a better life out there that you can get.”
“I suppose what irritates me the most about hope is that I think of it as sitting and twiddling your thumbs, expecting things to go right without doing anything to see that it goes right. People like that are as aggravating as those who sit and think that they have to accept whatever worthless lot they’ve been given, such as the street gangs you mentioned.”
Lou smirked a bit. “They are pretty annoying. I think in a lot of cases, though, hope is when you’ve done all you can, or else you can’t really do anything, and you’re waiting to see how it turns out and trying to think it’ll be the way you want it.”
“Perhaps.” Ginger thought on it. “That’s a kinder definition, one that I suppose works sometimes.”
He paused. “One thing about hope, no matter which definition we’re using. It seems that those who possess it usually stand alone.”
“I guess that’s why they’re remembered so much,” Lou decided. “They don’t just stand alone; they stand out.”
Ginger nodded. “And they’re usually thought of as fools for quite some time. It’s generally only years later when their contributions—if any—are recognized.”
“Yeah,” Lou agreed. “It’s a lonely life.”
They exchanged a look.
“Sometimes loneliness is preferable to the idiots you meet when socializing,” Ginger declared. “Or the fair-weather friends who wouldn’t help you when you were poor but suddenly want favors from you once you’re rich.”
Lou smirked a bit. “You had that too, huh?”
Ginger nodded. “The blokes in the neighborhood were always bothering my parents once I moved up in the world. They kept wanting Mum and Dad to talk to me about helping them out of their little problems.”
“And did they?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Ginger grumbled. “After the first few times I told them I wasn’t interested in hearing the neighbors’ sob stories. More than half of them were exaggerated or even bold-faced lies. But I kept hearing about them anyway. Mum especially wanted me to help them all, even though she knew as well as I did that they’d always be trying to bleed me dry. And Dad wanted me to do favors for his mates from the local.”
Lou sighed and shook his head. “Mike got pestered by some of the neighborhood kids back in New York,” he said. “They’d keep trying to butter him up so he’d talk to me about what they wanted.”
“And let me guess—Michael was easily swayed,” Ginger said dryly.
“Ginger . . .” Lou gave him a disapproving look, but then relented and nodded. “You’re right; he was. If he’d had access to all the money, he would’ve got into so many get rich quick schemes he would’ve bankrupted us several times over.”
“Of course. And I suppose that was how he spent whatever portion of the money he received?”
“Some of it, anyway,” Lou admitted. “After a couple of plans went South, he finally listened when I told him to cut it out and stop listening to those animals.”
“A pity he didn’t apply that advice to Donald Waugh.”
“Yeah,” Lou sighed. “Although all of our jewel heists unraveled because of that double-cross and now we’ve ended up in this place, better off than we were before. So sometimes I wonder if I’m actually grateful to Mike for falling in with Donny Waugh.”
“I can’t imagine ever going that far,” Ginger grunted. “But I’ll agree that good eventually came out of it.” He looked to Lou. “Quite a bit of good.”
Lou smiled.