Mon., Oct. 11, 1999
"Hey - turn down those damn radios and TVs!
I'm trying to write here!"- Oscar Wilde shouting out his window at
the rapidly approaching 20th century, circa 1895
I'm feeling a tad hunted today. A bit put-upon. Rather sideswiped by life.
It's as if my mind is actually starting to believe that pamphlet I once read about how we're all going to be put on trial in the 21st century for having sipped instant coffee because the replacement of the natural coffee bean with the instant coffee bean in the mountains of Colombia will have utterly deprived some little wasp species of its livelihood by 2006 at the latest, and that inevitably will bring the entire world ecosystem crashing down on the heads of taller people everywhere, and many of them will just happen to be county prosecutors because people like to vote for tall candidates and the position of county prosecutor in may places is an elected position.
But that's crazy on the face of it, and besides, no pamphlet printed on such cheap paper has ever proven physically capable of containing the truth. Big truths, small truths - it doesn't matter, they simply soak right through.
Which leaves me wondering: If it's not this old, truth-forsaken pamphlet that's responsible for my feeling hunted, put-upon, and sideswiped today (as well as crinkled, I might add), what is responsible?
A brief review of the possibilities:>>> Albino Pumpkins This is the first year I've seen these creamy beige ambassadors from the squash kingdom and I just don't know what to make of them. My wife actually brought one home Saturday. I can see it there, sitting on my kitchen counter as I write this. Sitting - just sitting. And perchance dreaming? Thinking? Plotting?? I want to run to it and scream, "Do SOMETHING already, dammit! Don't keep me in suspense!" but no - I can't risk violating proper protocol before it has even presented its credentials.
>>> The Approaching End Of Insect Season Yesterday's paper told me that it's now just two weeks away. I guess that's when our first frost/freeze will kill off most members of most insect species hereabouts, leaving the new TV season to kill off most of the rest. I just don't know where I'm going to find the money for all the flowers and sympathy cards again this year....
>>> Night Of The Rampaging Combines I haven't been sleeping well the last week or so - not since I learned that farmers can harvest their soybeans until 9 pm and their corn until 3 am. Seems they've discovered that the attachment of a few headlights onto the front of their John Deeres is sufficient to create enough artificial sunlight for them to maneuver their heavy equipment through their fields until the dew shows up. Apparently the dew first has its way with the soybeans around 9 pm and then staggers home to the stupid, shit-tolerant corn around 3. I just don't know how much longer I can continue living in a state with such immoral weather phenomenon! What really has me sleepless in Ohio, however, is the notion that farmers - a traditionally under-educated bunch - are putting the pedal to the metal late into the night in fields completely unmarked with lane lines, edge lines, posted speed limits.... I'm supposed to trust people who work hard all their lives and yet never make a profit or change professions to NOT mistake me for a tofu-burger-in-waiting as I sleep in my own bed when there's not so much as a flimsy little guard rail to keep them in their place?? I don't think so!
>>> British Petroleum Says People Who Use Cell Phones At Their Gas Pumps Might Trigger An Explosion As if that guy who lit a cigarette at the service station in "The Birds" and set an entire Cinemascope screen on fire wasn't enough to keep me cringing the entire time I'm filling my wife's car with 89 octane liquid death! You KNOW what's really going on, don't you? BP is merely laying the groundwork for the following little scene, soon to play out at corners all across America. Guy pulls into BP station. Guy fills tank. Guy notices that the price per gallon has soared 29 cents overnight. Guy reads the posted sign that says "Due to a sudden outbreak of camel halitosis in Saudi Arabia, we have found it necessary to...." Guy reaches for cell phone, calls BP, and starts giving them a piece of his mind. BP receptionist traces call to the exact station and pump, presses a button - KABOOM! Papers reports that the electromagnetic signal from a cell phone has set off yet another gas station explosion. Only WE know what really happened! Exactly how long can they afford to let us live?? (NOTE: If they offer you a camel in exchange for your silence, DON'T take it!)
>>> Feeling Like A Yo-Yo Thanks To Smart Teas My wife has started bringing so-called "smart teas" home. These are bottled iced teas loaded with things like ginseng, ginkgo, St. John's Wort, gotu kola, proline, creatine, taurine, echinacea, astragalus, absinthe, and creosote which are supposed to make one's brain work better just as they did for all those ancient peoples whose civilizations are now dust. Fool that I am, I've been guzzling them by the quart. After the first quart I start guzzling them by the liter, suddenly able to handle such complex metric conversions. After a few kilos I feel like a positive genius and realize, "Hey! Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise! I'm paying how much to be able to figure out in my head how big a loser I am to the sixteenth decimal point?? What a rip!!!" I quickly swear off it. In a day or two, I feel better - much, much better. But then I think, hey, maybe I'm wrong, maybe I didn't give the stuff a fair shot, if the label says it's good, it has to be good 'cause if it's in print, it's GOT to be true. So I start guzzling again. Help.
>>> Human Facial Expressions Are Decipherable From Up To 80 Feet Away
I don't know why but this simple fact has been bothering more than any other fact ever since I read it in the newspaper 8.35716 days ago. Maybe it's because it takes so much of my time and effort to hear people from 80 feet away, I just don't want to have to deal with their facial expressions right then, too. Maybe it's because I thought our encryption technology was much better than this. I mean, if facial expressions can be deciphered from 80 feet away, what hope is there that my email is safe from being deciphered when it's right there on a recipient's screen less than a yard away from their eyes? What really bothers me, though, is that people still don't know enough to keep their facial expressions to themselves. In this age of strange diseases and hidden meanings, I simply don't want to have to deal with the unruly facial expressions of others when we're having sex, let alone when we're 80 feet apart. That's all I need - to be walking down a grocery aisle on an emergency search and rescue mission for fudge topping and have to worry about the rude facial expression of a woman in the meat department taking me suddenly from behind!Ok, I think I've managed to work myself into a lather bordering on an all-out tizzy.
Time to remember my breathing exercises.
Time to think of something good.
Like the fact that I'm a mere 32 miles from Whirlpool's only North American dishwasher factory. Oh, and what a very nice factory it is, too! Turning out Whirlpool, Roper, KitchenAid, and Kenmore brand dishwashers around the clock - and almost every one of them complete with fun to play with dials and easy on the eyes finishes! Mmmmm!! The plant employs 1,780 people already and is doing so well that 115 more are being hired. And the facial expressions of all of them are being kept behind impenetrable cinderblock walls for at least 8 hours a day, 5 days a week!
Ahh, suddenly life seems very good indeed!! :-) :-) :-)If only I could forget the fact that fewer than 60% of American households have a dishwasher despite the fact that they make much better pets than humidifiers.
If only I could find a way to hug my own dishwasher without having to literally pull it out from its tight little under-counter niche every single time I'm in the mood.
Sigh.Maybe I'll feel better after some tea....
(©1999 by Dan Birtcher just because that's what I told a street corner Christopher
I was hurrying off to do, sorry, no time to drop so much as a quarter into your silly little holiday kettle....)
