No one was looking. No one would ever know.
Sitting down, he turned on his computer, opened his document, and resumed his editing.
Someone always knew.
Can You Remember?
On this day, the moon landing took place.
I remember it. I was a newly-minted thirteen-year-old. I watched the historic event downstairs. Downstairs was the cellar, or basement, as we called it, in Penn Hills, Pennsylvania. That’s where the family room, laundry room, garage, and my bedroom were located. It used to flood when it rained hard. Fortunately, the Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, suburb only experienced rain about half of the year.
The lights were off in the family room, and cool air bathed the space. Sitting on the couch, the one that used to be upstairs before we bought new living room furniture, I watched Eagle land on the moon on a big Magnavox console color television. I always thought the television was stolen and purchased from a fence. Even when new, it had a small area in the upper right corner where the picture tube – televisions had picture tubes, back then – appeared cracked. At least, what it showed was a distorted bubble of rainbow colors.
It was good enough to watch the moon landing, though. There wasn’t even a need to rotate the outdoor antenna or adjust the rabbit ears. All three major networks were carrying the event. We only had the three, then. Cable news wasn’t carrying it, because cable hadn’t proliferated around the nation like a blackberry bramble gone wild, and there weren’t any national cable news channels. They were still in our future.
We were excited about the future, despite what was happening and had happened. Perhaps I was only excited because I was young. The Vietnam war still continued, and Nixon was in the White House. Watergate was still a few years away. So was our first gasoline crises since World War II. Microwaves were only emerging, and we mostly played music on forty-five and thirty-three R.P.M. vinyl records. We also listened to music on radios, especially in our cars, especially A.M. It was pretty impressive that our old Dodge had a push-button radio. Later on, after the first man walked on the moon and made his famous utterance, I went outside and gazed up at the stars, wondering what the future would bring.
All in all, it was a pretty cool night.
The Talisman
He never spoke of it to anyone, and had only written of it once, in his private notebook that nobody ever read, but he had a talisman. It was always carried with him when he was leaving the house; he’d often also pick it up, holding and playing with it, keeping it close to him, even when in the house. He felt it gave him something. He loathed to describe it as confidence or power, but the talisman’s presence reassured him.
He was particular about keeping it in a safe place, where only he would go. Panic flooded him whenever he couldn’t find it. Searching, he would retrace steps, urging himself, “Think. When did you have it last?” Room from room, he’d prowl. Maybe he’d absently – foolishly – set it down in the bathroom. Or in the kitchen, or the living room, or the bedroom, the garage, the dining room – perhaps he’d dropped it. He had to find it.
When he did find it, he heaved a relieved sigh and held it against his chest, refraining with only a huge application of strength from whispering, “My precious.”
The Logic
There was a ladder ahead. Seated on the sidewalk, it was leaned up against a big oak branch.
He considered going under the ladder. That’s bad luck. There was reasons why going under a ladder could be considered bad luck. People could be up on the ladder, working with tools, or carrying items. They might drop something. That would be bad luck. But he could see that no one was on the ladder. Still, he went around it.
Sometimes, logic is defied.
Victory
She seemed like a year or two older than him. Moving to her left, he came abreast of her. Looking at him from under her broad-brimmed straw hat, she smiled. “Good afternoon,” she said.
Nodding and smiling, he replied, “Good afternoon.” Then, feeling bold, he said, “Race you.”
She laughed. “No, thank you. It’s a pleasant day, and I’ll continue with my stroll. You win.”
“Have a good day, then,” he called over his shoulder, accelerating away. A win is a win.
He’d take it.
Proud
He’s proud as a five-year-old. He carried the full mug across the room – with one hand – and none sloshed over the side. But then, it wasn’t filled all the way up.
Quokittien
Quokittien (Catfinition): A young feline who appears ordinary and commonplace.
In Use: “The tabby’s quokittien appearance, black stripes on gray, as seen on millions of cats in America, was offset by her intelligence, and rambunctious behavior.”
Today’s Theme Music
I heard this song in the car while running our usual weekend errands, and turned it up and listened. It employs an honesty and simplicity in the lyrics and melody. Later, I learned one of my favorite recent guys, CeeLo Green, was one of the people behind it. The song was inspired by a conversation between CeeLo and Danger Mouse about artists not being taken seriously unless the artists were insane. Yet, watching the news since then, I get the impression, in this era of personality, that being taken seriously when acting insane extends way beyond artists and into politics and business. We’re inundated with the mundane and tedium, so the insane draws our attention. Then, we start listening more carefully to what the insane are saying, and wonder, “Hmmm…can they be right?”
Here’s Gnarls Barkley with “Crazy,” from two thousand five.
Michael Seidel, writer 