- Went off script today. Bounced with spouse to store in early A.M. Decided thereafter, screw it, movie. Who doesn’t love Sunday Afternoon at the Movies? Streaming options came through: Palm Springs on Hulu offered an afternoon respite from the daily drone.
- Next four months with COVID-19, political campaigns, protests, riots, Feds abducting protesters, and POTUS insanity and lies (along with his administration’s lies, and well, most of the right wing’s offerings) will be a trial. Add to that a heat wave, and now, wildfires (the Badger Fire). My soul is getting stretched pretty thin.
- On the COVID lines, cases in my state and county (Oregon, Jackson) are on the rise. No worries; to save our small businesses. the local Chamber of Commerce convinced the town to close some streets and parking so al fresco dining can be expanded. I’ve not checked it out — and won’t — but observers are saying, no masks and no distancing there. Yes, businesses and officials are lip syncing the requirements but enforcement seems to amount to some brief tsk, tsk. Not reassuring.
- Had a follow up with my doc. Arm (xrays) looks good but remains in a sling. His wife is friends with my wife and related a brief tale. “I was with Glen when the ER doctor called. They said they had a broken arm. Glen told them they could set it. They replied, no, I’m not touching this. We’re sending you film. Glen took a look and said, I’m on my way. Glen called it quite deformed.”
- Six more weeks and my arm will be free again.
- I have my writing, though, but limited to one-handed typing. Writing with pen didn’t work as the splinted arm/hand combo failed to keep the notebook from sliding around. I also have time and coffee. Guess I’ll try to write like crazy, at least once more.
A Sandwich Dream
The trip was starting. Anticipation uplifted me excited energy. But first —
A young boy called after me. Seeing his grin, I answered with the same. “Did you get it?” I asked as he ran up to me. “Did yu get the one you wanted?”
“Better,” the boy replied. “He gave me both my first and second choices.”
I hugged him. “I’m happy for you.” Then I rushed off to my journey.
Events interrupted. I needed my recall roster.*
Where was it? Where was it? I scurried about, opening and closing drawers in search of it as others asked, “Do you have your recall roster,” or told me, “You need your recall roster.”
“I know, I know,” I kept saying. Opening an old wooden rolltop desk, I discovered two fresh sandwiches on plates. “So that’s where I put those.”
I didn’t need two sandwiches so I fed one to a friend’s dog, then took the other sandwich out and place it on a table to eat. Another sandwich of another kind was already on the table. A passing friend said, “I picked up that sandwich for you, Michael.” As I thanked them, another sandwich was put on a plate before me. “For you,” another friend said.
I protested, “I already have a sandwich. Who needs a sandwich?”
Others joined me, eager for a sandwich. As I began eating, I found I had one sandwich left over. A man sat to my right. “Mind if I eat this, Michael?”
“No.” I realized the man picking up the sandwich was my main character.
That made me laugh.
* Recall Roster – a telephone contact list used for mobilization and rapid notifications
Friday’s Theme Music
Yeah, a free association flow today ended up with this song. It started with writing.
Yesterday morning…stalled on writing a scene. Overthinking it, my home-grown inner writing coach screamed. “Do it!”
Despite that exhortation, I resisted and fiddled. Knowing self, though, finally opened doc, went to scene, started reading and fiddling with words. Then, ah…sweet relief as sentences flowed in and out.
Then, pop: revelation. Surprise. Unseen connections and directions illuminated. Go: write like crazy.
Done with the one-handed writing for the day, the writing continued in my gray space — the brain, yeah, but also those nano vacancies visited while watching TV, petting a cat, searching the sky, scrolling the news — and new nuances proliferated. As it happened (continuing in dream material), it came at last as another piece in the characters’ stained- glass personae: desire.
Who they think they are, claim to be, try to be, fail to be, are seen to be, were before, dream to be, and are said to be punched together.
So, today’s theme music is U2’s “Desire” from 1988.
Monday Minutiae
- Yeah, one hand ops suck. Challenges: opening yogurt containers, cat food tins and baggies, along with opening most screw-lid jars, buttons on shirts and shorts, and peeling bananas. Teeth work well for some reqs (like peeling bananas). Smaller food tins and yogurt cups are easier to open. Those child-resistant push-to-open med bottles are easiest to open; just put them upside down on a thick towel, apply pressure, and turn.
- The broken bones officialese: transverse fracture of distal radius metaphysis with volar displacement and angulation; oblique mildly-displaced fracture of distal ulna metaphysis. All I know is that no bones were supporting my hand, and it hurt.
- Curiously, my orthro surgeon sent me a four-page health questionnaire in the mail. They’re part of the same computerized system that provides the rest of my healthcare. Ran out of space in the part about injuries, illnesses, and hospital visits, and I only covered my adult years.
- Changed clothes today, first change since ‘the incident’. Did it by myself, earning a brief spousal admonishment. If I’d put as much thought and control in what I was doing when I had my accident, it probably would’ve been avoided.
- Drank coffee today, no meds since last P.M., and wrote one thousand words. Perhaps my coffee and writing connection is stronger than I credited it. One-handed typing is hard on my upper shoulders.
- Defended Christians today. I know some, and I’m related to some, and trust, love, and respect these people. Their politics happen to be like mine. Agewise, some are younger, but most are older. Just as I don’t accept that all police are uncaring killers, all scientists are unmitigated geniuses, or all politicians are unprincipled liars, there is no need (nor any good from it) to making empty and baseless declarations regarding ‘all’. Yes, that does present me with some problems with Trump supporters, and why/how (whow) they support him. I seriously believe they do some heavy lying to themselves and rationalizing, and suspect mental illness and emotional problems. I’m not being charitable to them with that broad statement, but given Trump’s behavior, failures, constant lying, and broken promises, I haven’t heard intelligent reasoning for their unwavering support except that they are white, privileged, racists.
That is all. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 