Thursday’s Bumper Sticker
Death Grip
She got that death grip on the wheel
she’s not letting go
not slowing down
no, not taking it slow
doesn’t matter where she’s going
long as she gets there fast
doesn’t care about the journey
that’s for others to make it last
she’s pouring through gaps
riding hard and leaving free
swerving around obstacles with abandon
like buildings, pedestrians, and trees
Don’t know where she’s going
that’s for others to find out
she’s moving ahead
forging past fear and doubt
we all glimpse her
wanting to see
who’s that girl with that death grip
we’re all wishing that it could be me
The Help Dream
Located in a large office, I was busy. Although modern and plush, with room for dozens, only one other was in the office with me. We were calling into a help line. My purpose, though, was to find an assignment for someone who I could help.
I struggled with the line. Static garbled messages. I wasn’t certain if I’d reached a live voice or a recording. They couldn’t understand me, either.
After several times of calling, not frustrated, but amused and determined, I decided to go down to dispatch to talk to them in person.
Dispatch was busy and chaotic. Obviously, something had gone awry with the system. Others, thinking like me (or me, thinking like them), went down to dispatch to get assignments (and, from eavesdropping, to provide feedback and updates). Several dispatchers were busy at work behind a dark counter. Not knowing where the line began and end, or where people queued, I marched back and forth, mocking the system. That annoyed the dispatchers, who asked me to stop doing that because it distracted them. Though I found it all funny, they didn’t.
A food bar offered choices of snacks from sandwiches and salads to pizzas, hot dogs, donuts and bagels, along with coffee and tea. I checked it out but passed.
At last, with many gone, the lines finally in order, I approached the counter and was given an assignment. Pleased with that, I went off to the phones to contact the one I was supposed to help.
The dream ended.
Word
The word is given
we gotta go
through that door
either quick or slow
We think we know what’s up
think we know it’s time
though we’ve been wrong before
we keep swallowing the same lines
so on we go, on our way
not understanding
it’s the same game
by another name
Now Watching
We finished watching His Dark Materials. It felt rushed — like, the time with the bears should have been longer — and we have some casting issues, (well, one) but it was a worthwhile entertainment.
Alas, it ended too quickly. What to watch now?
Well, we have American Gods on deck, deciding to hold off on it until we finished His Dark Materials so we’d have something in reserve. Meanwhile, my wife said, “What about Watchmen?”
She didn’t have much awareness about the show. I was familiar with the movie and graphic novels and knew they were doing a series. Sure, let’s watch.
Well, the first damn episode was gripping. Hope the rest are as good. I know of series that started strongly but then faded.
Meanwhile, I’m finishing with Dublin Murders. I’d read the Tana French books and enjoyed them, particularly the first, In the Woods. Our neighbor, Walt, didn’t like “The Likeness”. “There’s no way that a person can live with people who know them and fool them into thinking they’re someone else. I just can’t buy it.” I enjoyed it, though, and I find the series moderately entertaining, with perhaps a little too much angst. I like the casting, as I’m familiar with a number of the actors via BBC (and Britbox), Acorn, and Netflix. I recommend the series. They’re not procedurals but murder/dramas, in my mind (where else) (would we call a murder/drama a murma?)
Cheers
The Cookies
“The cookies are easy to make,” she told Cindy after sharing the recipe with her. “You should make them when your grandchildren come up. They came up. It’d be fun.”
“Good idea. I will.”
A few days later, Barb ran into Cindy. “We made the cookies,” Cindy said.
“And…?”
“They burned.”
“What?”
“Tell me the recipe again.”
“You start with tortillas and cut them out with cookie cutters.”
“I did that.”
“Then you put them on the baking sheet and brush them with butter.”
“Butter! You didn’t mention butter.”
“I think I did…but, after you brush them with butter, you dust them with cinnamon and sugar.”
“Sugar! You didn’t say anything about sugar.”
“Do you want me to send you an email with the recipe?”
“No, I’ll have my son-in-law find them for me.”
The Dreams Return – Lost Shoe, Found Dog
The dreams returned, which is reassuring. I dream often and vividly, and not having dreams was having a friend away. Good to have them back.
I found myself camping with friends. I say camping, but it was a shelter — roof, floor, and walls, cutouts for windows but sans glass — although it did have a door — where we stayed. That event took place and the others I camped with left to cross the river.
I went to places unknown and then returned to camp again. Unplanned, I lacked food, gear, and shoes. Just trying to figure out how I was going to handle that when I heard the door open.
A woman with her children had arrived to stay for the week. Speaking with them, I discovered that I’d been camping with the woman’s husband the week before. I told them I’d vacate the shelter for them, but they waved that offer away, and offered me their food.
I then I had one shoe (black walking shoe) but not the other. How — where — when — did I lose my shoe? As I’m walking around in one shoe, a small, injured animal, a dog, arrived. I recognized it as an animal I’d been feeding the previous week and that it was a pet that belonged to my neighbor. Grey and brown, the dog resembled a fox. Its wound concerned me. I cleaned the wound with help from the woman, and then fed the dog. The dog seemed pleased and started wagging its tail.
The dream ended.
Tuesday’s Theme Music
Heavy traffic downtown in our town yesterday. Ah, holidays, I figured. School is out. Last minute shopping. Meeting for drinks and meals, doing holiday things under the weak sunshine in the forty-degree air.
Which kicked Lindsey Buckingham singing “Holiday Road” (1983). I know the song from that classic comedy, National Lampoon’s Vacation with Chevy Chase. We were on Okinawa when it came out (military), and saw it on video at home. The movie became a favorite.
“I found out long ago,
“it’s a long way down the Holiday Road.”
“Holiday Road” has a lot of energy but not many words, yet it conveys that whole sense of excitement of jumping into the Family Truckster and braving the Interstates for a family vacation.
I especially like the dog’s barking at the song’s end.
Hope your Holiday Road is a smooth and safe one this year. Let’s be safe out there.
Had to include something of National Lampoon’s Vacation, right?
Secrets
He lived a private life, a reclusive millionaire by day, porn addict at night.
His car was polished to a gleam that blinded others. The carpets, rugs, and hardwood floors in his house seemed like they were never used. White teeth in a bright smile, hair groomed and cultivated (almost like a model), he wore fashionable clothes with casual ease, hiding the deformities of his soul. Nothing was out on the counters where others might start learning the truth. These were hidden in drawers and cupboards, tucked away behind other materials, not found without a lengthy search…unless you knew where to look.
Yes, he had his secrets, nothing that he would share with others. He had secrets that he never spoke of even to himself, afraid that if he did, he might give himself away.
Just in Passing
That time is gone
the energy spent
the road left behind
resentments left unsaid
All that remains
is peering ahead
crossing new bridges
dodging monsters in your head
Think about yesterday
dream about tomorrow
Go on through life
deal with the frustration and sorrow
Then get up and out
get gone and back
live one more day
and do it again
Michael Seidel, writer 