Wednesday, November 24, 2010

See,! I'm not the only one.

Last month I was enjoying a quiet bucolic moment of which I have many in the Maine countryside. I was sitting in my recliner feeling wonderful. In the past I would go to bed feeling like a failure before going to bed when I would put on mu sleep apnea equipment so I could breath at night. The ritual was a nightly reminder of failure that whatever else I could and have accomplished in my life, I was unable to breath and walk like a normal human being. I would wake up atom by atom very slowly the next morning as if waiting for a cosmic decision as to whether I should continue. Now, My sleep apnea equipment is gathering dust on my nightstand and I have purchased a conversion kit that will enable the contraption to be turned into a lamp. Getting back to my wonderful Maine morning moment, I was experiencing a quiet euphoria induced by 8 oz. of Greek yogurt, 6 oz of blueberries and 1 oz of oat bran and a God who doesn't know the meaning of absolute failure when I heard strange animal sounds that seem to come from the walls-not sure I planned my day thinking it might be another one of those quite common yogurt hallucinations listed as possible side effect on the container-thank God for the USDA. About an hour later and throughout the day the strange animal sounds came back but each time they were different. My sharp mind deduced an infestation of of small creatures looking for a winter home inside our walls. I was anxious for Karen to come home from work so we could consult about getting a pest exterminator. Karen heard me out and then said the noises were coming from the Audubon clock she had purchased. Every hour on the hour strange bird sounds were emitted. I no longer feel like a failure, but my grasp on reality is as tenuous as ever. Last night, Samaya was sitting on Karen's lap and the clock began chirping startling Samaya who clearly preferred a vegetarian clock like her mother. See! I'm not the only one!

Monday, November 22, 2010

A sofa and a turtle

Every entry should start with an apology. As the full of it banker once said in a W.C. Fields movie, "Allow me to express my heartfelt contrition." The camera panned to his dead fish handshake--a handshake that I emulated every holiday much to the annoyance of my macho uncles who expected a firm manly handshake. My brother and I would laugh til it hurt as they walked away murmuring "What's wrong with those boys?"
Not what I wanted to write about so ignore all that nonsense and for that matter also ignore this nonsense coming your way. In fact, show some backbone and stop reading this stuff write now. O.K. I warned you. Reality shows. I get it. Cheap to produce--let the camera roll and enjoy the train wreck of the dysfunctionites taking place in your living room. And what's next when they outlaw tanning booths in New Jersey -or outlaw New Jersey--even better. They had their chance. Housewives have their own shows, but no husbands. Every major city has a house wives show. There are no ill mannered inappropriately dressed husbands? I'm one for sure. My pants have been hanging on for dear life for decades in public. Anyway, what's next? I have the answer. Even cheaper tv to fit the economic disaster of the times. A turtle and a living room with and a camera. A little water for the turtle--no water needed for the sofa. No actors or pseudo actors. No embarrassing charity events or off key singing. Turtles don't do anything for free--even singing. Watch the turtle slowly and I mean slowly walk across the living room heading for the sofa. Too fast? Velcro a brick to his shell and slow him down. Be lulled into a meditative trance and realize that your life is not so boring after all. I got to go for coffe with my friend. I feel better.

Monday, November 1, 2010

A Brief Visit

A Brief Visit

In the distance I saw an ancient face
I walked the polished stone floor in her direction
She did not care for the sunlight of the living
Preferring enigmatic smiles covered in lifeless dust
The beautiful helplessness of armless Greek Gods
All gathered on a starry starry night
I came to late
Perhaps by a minute
Or a thousand years
She had made her decision
No more asking a question
No more listening to the answer
Her eyes were closed forever
Her expression forever formed
She had traveled in
Leaving behind a marker on a pedestal
I leaned over the velvet rope
She whispered only for my ears
"Let the caller and the called disappear
be lost in the Call"*