What we did and why

The last three days of classes
we ran up to the Union
and laughed at the students
who took as their token

Mirandas of waltzes and
turrets of tomes and
vaults full of vinegar and
words we forgot and

Then we slept soundly
and woke on our stomachs
and grumbled and grimaced
to fall clear of the ax

That aimed for the neck
and sliced off the head
when plenty of folks
studied instead.

2008

Turned

"He had lived without knowledge of himself."

-- Bernard Malamud, The Magic Barrel

--

I Google'd my name. The top ten hits:

- Wikipedia's disambiguation page
- Medical Intuitive home page: www.clairvoyantguide.com
- Reume and headshot page for "this stuntman specializing in the martial arts"
- MySpace page for the musician
- NCAA college tennis player
- A "Holistic Healer" profile--I think this is related to Medical Intuitive
- Football player's recruitment page
- "The Official Website of Author and Journalist..."
- A blurb about the Major League Baseball player
- An IMDB site devoted to...the actor.

--

I was given great food, delicious alcohol, and a copy of To the Actor by Michael Chekhov last night.

Old Woman Parts Crowd

I lunched at McDonald's on a whim and found myself at the end of a long line. This line became, as lines of hungry people do, more squiggly and chaotic in the span of about ten minutes. Twenty or so of us, young and old, townie and hippie and all, willed ourselves closer to the register, closer to filling our bellies with crap. Gobs and gobs of crap, shaped into fries, burgers, and soft drinks.

There were two fat women in front of me talking about slippers. They wore matching black outfits. They were blond. One was a little taller than the other.

They might have been sisters.

We inched forward.

Then came an old woman, who held her plastic tray and its gobs of crap up so high she looked like a little girl trying to hop onto a kitchen counter. She had been here before, and her eyes were happy.

We made way for her, happy eyes and all.

"Excuse me," she said, pushing her tray through the crowd, "I'm sorry, excuse me, excuse me, I'm so sorry, excuse me..."

One of the fat women said to her, "Don't ever be sorry for parting a crowd."

I liked that.

Farming

It was April and I was ready for spring. I was restless. School was getting on my nerves. I liked my teacher, but you can only take so much sitting in a classroom. I had forgotten all about the field trip Mrs. Sanford had planned. We were going to a farm, but this was not a modern farm. On this farm they used horses as they did over 100 years ago. Mrs. Sanford thought it would be good for us to learn about the old ways farmers once used.

-- “What I Found at the Farm," from a textbook I've been working on

--

It’s April and I am ready for spring. I am restless. School is getting on my nerves. I like my teacher, but you can only take so much sitting in a classroom. I had forgotten all about the big trip I had planned.

No farm. No horses. No Mrs. Sanford.

I did go to a school, but it was not a modern school. At this school they used methods as they did over 100 years ago. The professors thought it would be good for us to learn about the old ways people once used.

This is what I found at Hillsdale College.

Playbooks

"Eat a crocodile?"

-- Hamlet

--

About two years ago, the faculty of the Theatre Department emptied their shelves of books and plays they were willing (in some cases, more than willing) to give up. They put them onto a kind of "free shelf" in the glassed-in upstairs lounge of Sage, where they sit in tight stacks, mostly forgotten. There are ancient theatre journals and plays of all kinds.

I rediscovered them just this afternoon. No one was around. These were the titles I took:

- The Good Doctor, by Neil Simon
- The Sunshine Boys, by Neil Simon
- You Can't Take It With You, by Moss Hart and George S. Kaufman
- The Yale Shakespeare Othello
- All My Sons, by Arthur Miller
- Rat in the Skull, by Ron Hutchinson
- Angel Street, a Victorian Thriller in Three Acts, by Patrick Hamilton
- Seven Famous Greek Plays (Prometheus Bound, Agamemnon, Oedipus the King, Antigone, Alcestis, Medea, and the Frogs)
- The Knack, by Ann Jellicoe
- The Dining Room, by A. R. Gurney, Jr.
- The Lion in Winter, by James Goldman
- Arms and the Man, by Bernard Shaw
- The Oresteia, by Aeschylus

--

I wonder how many I'll actually read.

Dulce et decorum

Marina Vice, Swedish Erotica Featurettes 1, Rainwoman 3, Blow Job Betty, Afterhours, Frosty's Dad in Action, Lust Italian Style, Taboo 13, Teri Weigel: Centerfold, Fire and Ice, The Girl Next Door 1, Ackland Uses Clay

-- Titles of pornographic films by Patti Rhodes, a member of the Adult Video News Hall of Fame

--

The thought occurred to me today that the saying, "Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise," might be inaccurate. It seems to me that being healthy, wealthy and wise would allow a man to go to bed early and give him a reason to get out of bed at all. But for the sick, the poor, and the stupid, the key is to stay up late and sleep until it feels better. The key to life is to avoid living it, to avoid being hurt while awake.

Small wonder that a vast sum of folks wish to die in their sleep.

I mean, we're not puppets, and I guess that's the idea. Puppets never worry about things like people do. Silly Pinnochio--why on earth would he desire to be like his maker? The maker's Maker made whales for people who tried to do that, and once kicked out heaven's best angel and earth's finest creation for being little Pinnochios to the Great Big Japetto.

But that's the funny thing, isn't it? That this Creator did something no other gods bothered to do before, and that was to worry about what he was doing and halt his vengeance.

Smart God. Good God.

--

Or something like that.

The flip side is that people--and Lucifer--bothered to do something that had never been done by a creation before, and that was to rebel and halt their obedience.

Dumb dogs. Bad dogs.

Hm.

Disappeared

"What can I say?
I got carried away...
...and not just by
balloo-oons."

-- The Wizard in Wicked!, by Stephen Schwartz

--

http://news.aol.com/story/_a/priest-vanishes-on-party-balloon-flight/20080422065509990001

--

My boss talked to the carpet guy again and they both referred to me as "the slow help." I heard them because they were standing very close to me when they said it. I am glad to be ending my employment here in two days. The carpet guy says it will take two weeks to replace the carpet in this office, and that if the existing carpet is stretched, the binding on the bottom will unlaminate (?) and will stretch an extra three inches. This moves the problem from the middle of the room to the corners, but it does not ensure the carpet will not relax back into place in a few months.

Strange, the idea of one's carpet slowly crawling beneath you.

--

I once read a book in which a little child, trying to comprehend death, calls the deceased "disappeared." "He got himself disappeared," I think is the phrase.

I hope that Brazilian priest gets himself found soon.

Ignorance

"Sin is ignorance."

-- Socrates

"Innocence is ignorance."

-- Kierkegaard

--

There are nineteen days until the end of the semester. No more semesters until the end of college. One degree to finish earning. Two papers, or forty pages. One repair that has to be made on my car's thermostat so that a gasket stops squirting antifreeze onto hot things and making smoke. Four things I have to accomplish as head of an honorary. Two work contracts to sign and mail. One rent check to pay. One bike to sell. One movie I may have to finish. One book I definitely have to finish. Three books I have to pretend to finish. Fifteen pairs of socks, ten pairs of underwear, about two dozen shirts and pants and shorts, and a few coats to pack. Several CDs to listen to, turn, burn, and maybe return. Who knows how many boogers to extract from my nostril walls. Many pens to lose. Nineteen breakfasts to make it to. Lots of piles of forgotten papers to throw away or maybe save.

And I don't want to. I don't even want to know about them.

Nineteen days.

Leaps

"The human race has outgrown Christianity."

-- Soren Kierkegaard, "Journals," June 19, 1852

--

After seeing "Rain," a philosophy major asked if I had read any Kierkegaard. I really haven't. But my curiosity is peaked now, and I just read the Wikipedia article on the great Dane.

The Pope is in this country and most people do not care. The Catholics believe the Pope is the closest one can get to God on earth.

I think I believe people is the closest people can get to God on earth. Other people. Loving needs an object. I think I am a Christian existentialist and a humanist at the same time, but I don't know yet.

--

"You died on a Saturday morning. And I had you placed here under our tree. And I had that house of your father's bulldozed to the ground. Momma always said dyin' was a part of life. I sure wish it wasn't. Little Forrest, he's doing just fine. About to start school again soon. I make his breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day. I make sure he combs his hair and brushes his teeth every day. Teaching him how to play ping-pong. He's really good. We fish a lot. And every night, we read a book. He's so smart, Jenny. You'd be so proud of him. I am. He, uh, wrote a letter, and he says I can't read it. I'm not supposed to, so I'll just leave it here for you. Jenny, I don't know if Momma was right or if, if it's Lieutenant Dan. I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze, but I, I think maybe it's both. Maybe both is happening at the same time. I miss you, Jenny. If there's anything you need, I won't be far away. "

-- Tom Hanks as Forrest Gump in "Forrest Gump"

Theme

Me--who?
Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink and be in love.
I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.
I like a pipe for a Christmas present,
or records--Bessie, bop, or Bach.

-- Langston Hughes, "Theme for English B"

--

After the performance last night, an old couple approached me. They figured I had directed the show on account of I had dressed up, and they wanted to let me know they liked what they had seen. They praised the acting like they knew what they were talking about. They said the show would make a good choice for a Bible study, that they would perhaps like to use the script and read it aloud with their group. I smiled like that was a good idea. I like that--several "goddamns," "shits," and "assholes," and one very important F-bomb, and they think it will be okay for a group of Christian adults sipping grape juice and sitting cross-legged on the newly-cleaned carpet of some squeaky, friendly couple.

(For what it's worth, I'd love for them to take the script and actually do it. I think a lot of Christians would be better people if they just broke down and swore from time to time. It's like farting--just get it out.)

"I was expecting the father at the end to blame the mother for letting their daughter go off with that boy," the woman said to me.

"Sure. You know, that's not really the point, though--"

"Oh, I know, I know. But that's what I would have expected from him."

I bade them good night.