The dolls of John Smith [from Disney’s Pocahontas] have fabulously smirky headsculpts. If Lucian were plastic, he’d have that head. Since he’s not, I’m free to make other associations with the sculpt. I have seen a fellow Figurvore member’s repaints of this head that look roguish, charming, quietly amused, even cheerful, but, after I thought, Lucian in plastic!, my mind immediately went to the type of character who thinks that he’s God’s gift to the universe.

You know the type: a straight, white, heterosexual, upper middle class, able-bodied, tall, muscular dude with a privileged life. He thinks he’s an objective observer who knows better than everyone about anything, even when people are talking to him about their marginalized experiences that he has no clue about. A liberal and progressive, he donates to various charities regularly, but his use of such words as "ghetto," "lame," "pussy," "bitch," etc., etc., etc., demonstrate that his public progressive performances are not accompanied by actual open-minded, respectful behavior. Yup, he’s the sort of person who wonders why "the gays," "the disabled," "the poor" and "the transgenders" are "so angry." He thinks that, if they were more "reasonable," they would "make more progress."

This particular one works at a boutique investment firm, Champlain Investments, and drives a Hummer, even though the roughest terrain he’s ever encountered are those frost heaves on Pearl Street in the spring. His interests include fishing and hunting, although he has never actually caught or shot anything; he prefers to chat with his friends and drink beer. He also avidly follows whatever UVM sports teams are active in a particular season [Go Cats!], as he graduated from UVM with a BA in economics. He gets along really well with his fishing/hunting/drinking buddies, some of which are from college and some of which are from work. He doesn’t get along well with women, which confuses and frustrates him, especially since his buddies are "settling down," and he would like to find a woman to marry and have kids with. He’s operating under the assumption that women are foreign, mysterious creatures that require user manual/decoder key combos.

Charles — called Charlie — White is really, really, really ashamed of his family. He grew up "outside of St. Johnsbury" — he won’t get more specific than that — in a trailer park in a small town. His mom raised him and his older sister with help from his grandmother. His grandmother’s Social Security, plus his mom’s minimum wages from her fast-food job, barely covered their expenses. [Charlie can’t eat fast food; it makes him sick and gives him nightmares.] When he was 12, they were evicted from their trailer, and he lived with one of his friends till he was 14. He got an under-the-table job sorting stuff in the local junkyard and reselling it to flea market dealers, and they eventually moved into an illegal basement apartment until he escaped to college and never went back.

Charlie, the first one in his family to go to college, pretends his family doesn’t exist. He’s ashamed that his grandmother is on disability for arthritis and that she spends her days smoking and watching Lifetime movies. He’s ashamed that his mother is still at the same fast-food place where she was working a decade ago, only now she’s an assistant manager, and she almost always works 40 hours a week. He’s ashamed that his sister dropped out of high school weeks before graduating because she was pregnant by her boyfriend. She and her daughter now live with Charlie’s mom, as the child’s father proved to be an abusive asshole. She’s going to cosmetology school and working on her GED. They love him, and they’re so proud of him, and his niece adores him, and he visits them and talks to them on the phone regularly, but he never talks about them at work or with his friends.

Okay, back to work.

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