I Thought You Were Dead
I do not know a damn iota about magical forces but let me tell you something--there are two full moons in this month of May, the one today, and another one on the 31st, and there is something powerful going on with that, I'm not the only one seeing ghosts pretending to be dreams, men roaming about houses, more curious than malevolent, and when I two days ago spoke to a couple of cats down the road about coming by for a visit I certainly did not think any cats would come by for a visit, especially a dead one.
You know I mentioned awhile back about my shamefully serious intention of kidnaping an area feline. I called the kitty LaDainian and the owners apparently called him Fuzzy. As it turned out Fuzzy belonged to a prominent local and that got Fuzzy a mention in the local paper, first as missing and then the next week as an apparent roadkill. Since that day when I read about the demise of Fuzzy it has been a lonely cat-less existence up here on the hill. Until I called from the road to those two cats up in a town yard, from a distance of a hundred feet or more, and said come on by sometime. I told them where to come. One of the cats looked like he was actually listening to me, and turning his head a quarter to the side and slightly up, I could swear he was making a mental note of my directions.
Yesterday I was right here trying out this new Netflix feature of free streaming movies, trying to get through the horror of the Japanese film, Imprint, and a cat, I don't think it was the one I was talking to up in town, came striding up the driveway. It looked like LaDainian. There could be perhaps a Feline Communications Network and it may be that a flash bulletin was put out to the effect--lonely, crusty caretaker on nice property, skilled in the art of cat but hesitant to pursue ownership, no experience necessary, alive preferred, but not necessary.
I went out and called to LaDainian. He stopped, meowed. I said, I thought you were dead. He said, not necessarily. I said, well come over here and let me get a look at you. He strolled over to and under the Jeep and sniffed the oil pan, with serious intent. You don't have to play that cat thing with me, just come over here a minute. He meowed, and headed off towards the backyard. I crossed through the breezeway and sat on the floor, framed by the screened doorway, and waited. For him to explore the bushes. And do his I'm ignoring the birds even if they can't ignore me routine. Then he came over to me and I petted him. He remembered me from his past life but seemed uncertain of how that could be. He was fresh. A fresh, new, late model LaDainian. He did some poses. The--I'm hiding in the bushes pose, the--stalking past the barbecue grill pose, the--I know you/who are you? /I'm just damn cute pose, and the--I own this patio/who are you? pose. I took pictures.
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Whatever Works
Mr. BC recently scored a zero on his test. What a loser. The test had a scoring range from zero to four hundred and Mr. BC scored a zero, what a loser. Did I already say that? It was a heart disease test and zero was the best score. So BC is not a loser. He wins with a zero. No plaque on his heart. Mr. BC is the Tiger Woods of the heart disease game. When I do BC residential duty at the home between Langley and Great Falls, VA., I sometimes look in on the one goldfish living in his bathroom and while there count the valium in BC's medicine cabinet to make sure he's not doing too many of them. I can't see that he's doing any at all but I don't like to take chances with his health so I pop a couple myself because friends look after friends. I don't mess with his Lipitor. Is that like cheating taking Lipitor and then scoring a zero on your heart test? Doesn't matter. It is good to rule out heart disease as the life squelcher of a friend. Mr. BC said I should have some medical tests too because I am an old crusty caretaker. He said have the company which is him pay for it. He later went on to say that he would sometime this year be having a colonoscopy. I said have one for me while he was there. He said he wasn't looking forward to having a Sony up his Guadalcanal. But that's how it goes. You start out with a simple 20 minute check up and the next thing you know you are being made love to in a non traditional way by a sexless recording device that assures you cooingly that this is for your own good, sweetcakes. But don't think any of the nurses are snickering behind your back even though they are. What does professionalism mean? Well it certainly doesn't mean you lack sense of humor regarding easily made fun of medical procedures. Let's move on, and make fun of me.
Last night I woke feeling parched and went into the kitchen and got a Vitamin Water. It was the opaquely pale yellow citrus flavor. I came back, put the expensive well marketed and designed plastic encased liquid on my bedside table, had a few sips, screwed the white plastic cap back on and laid back. I felt instantly at peace. In a narcotic trance was how I described myself to the me that was drifting away. I drifted away. Some time later I looked up and framed in the doorway was a tall black man dressed in an early 20th century policeman's uniform. I wasn't exactly asleep is the thing. And it is kind of frightening this state of mine not exactly unprecedented but usually suppressed in sleep as a thing leaving behind no picture, only the sensation of being pistol whipped all night, hey good morning. But this imposter for a couple of different reasons has no control over me, this I know so I ordered him away. If you press your tongue tightly against your upper palate and yell at the top of your lungs you will get the auditory sense of how impressively I rule as master of my own universe. The cop moved back into the dark unseen recesses of this place I call a cottage but isn't, really, and I could hear him about the place, touching things, and I got up, but not really up or anywhere did I go, I stayed in bed and transported part of me to the back door and yelled in that aforementioned inimitable fashion, for him to leave, get out, embarrassing myself frankly but unable to stop.. Just listening to this half awake half sleeping mutedly screaming me having no effect on this night's intruder. I was hoping Bernadette could not hear this, hoping that I was not making the noise I know I make. But she did wake up, more or less, long enough to tell me gently and kindly but no kidding around to shut the hell up. I said I was sorry, without my tongue pressed tight against my palate, and the spell was broken. I was so happy to be done with it. Damn ridiculous ghosts in the night. I'm going to lock the doors now. I do that sometimes because it seems to help.
Mr. BC recently scored a zero on his test. What a loser. The test had a scoring range from zero to four hundred and Mr. BC scored a zero, what a loser. Did I already say that? It was a heart disease test and zero was the best score. So BC is not a loser. He wins with a zero. No plaque on his heart. Mr. BC is the Tiger Woods of the heart disease game. When I do BC residential duty at the home between Langley and Great Falls, VA., I sometimes look in on the one goldfish living in his bathroom and while there count the valium in BC's medicine cabinet to make sure he's not doing too many of them. I can't see that he's doing any at all but I don't like to take chances with his health so I pop a couple myself because friends look after friends. I don't mess with his Lipitor. Is that like cheating taking Lipitor and then scoring a zero on your heart test? Doesn't matter. It is good to rule out heart disease as the life squelcher of a friend. Mr. BC said I should have some medical tests too because I am an old crusty caretaker. He said have the company which is him pay for it. He later went on to say that he would sometime this year be having a colonoscopy. I said have one for me while he was there. He said he wasn't looking forward to having a Sony up his Guadalcanal. But that's how it goes. You start out with a simple 20 minute check up and the next thing you know you are being made love to in a non traditional way by a sexless recording device that assures you cooingly that this is for your own good, sweetcakes. But don't think any of the nurses are snickering behind your back even though they are. What does professionalism mean? Well it certainly doesn't mean you lack sense of humor regarding easily made fun of medical procedures. Let's move on, and make fun of me.
Last night I woke feeling parched and went into the kitchen and got a Vitamin Water. It was the opaquely pale yellow citrus flavor. I came back, put the expensive well marketed and designed plastic encased liquid on my bedside table, had a few sips, screwed the white plastic cap back on and laid back. I felt instantly at peace. In a narcotic trance was how I described myself to the me that was drifting away. I drifted away. Some time later I looked up and framed in the doorway was a tall black man dressed in an early 20th century policeman's uniform. I wasn't exactly asleep is the thing. And it is kind of frightening this state of mine not exactly unprecedented but usually suppressed in sleep as a thing leaving behind no picture, only the sensation of being pistol whipped all night, hey good morning. But this imposter for a couple of different reasons has no control over me, this I know so I ordered him away. If you press your tongue tightly against your upper palate and yell at the top of your lungs you will get the auditory sense of how impressively I rule as master of my own universe. The cop moved back into the dark unseen recesses of this place I call a cottage but isn't, really, and I could hear him about the place, touching things, and I got up, but not really up or anywhere did I go, I stayed in bed and transported part of me to the back door and yelled in that aforementioned inimitable fashion, for him to leave, get out, embarrassing myself frankly but unable to stop.. Just listening to this half awake half sleeping mutedly screaming me having no effect on this night's intruder. I was hoping Bernadette could not hear this, hoping that I was not making the noise I know I make. But she did wake up, more or less, long enough to tell me gently and kindly but no kidding around to shut the hell up. I said I was sorry, without my tongue pressed tight against my palate, and the spell was broken. I was so happy to be done with it. Damn ridiculous ghosts in the night. I'm going to lock the doors now. I do that sometimes because it seems to help.
Damn Of An Old Scar
Periodically, a man comes by Mt. Pleasant to communicate to me his problems. Months ago the problem was, by all appearances, a grifter woman taking advantage of his son. As my moderate understanding of the Internet was superior to his, he asked would I attempt some background checks on the woman. I did so and came up with just a little dirt (and while looking also found a reference to a mistake from my own past.) The man later contracted someone more curious and better equipped for this type of investigation. For weeks after I was--despite my inclination towards eye wandering mountain gazing--his patient and attentive sounding board for each new clod of fresh dirt dug up on the woman taking advantage of his son. All of this culminated in the son loosing his cool and punching the woman in the face and going to jail for a few weekends. The woman, now the perceived if not actual victim, runs free tugging effortlessly a rather remarkable list of malfeasance. The son is now quit of the woman, but not the debt she helped incur.
At times the man would punctuate his stories of fiscal woe with ones of health, as his two sons would offer and then rescind the offer of their extra kidneys, so that the man could annul his marriage to the dialysis machine. Focused so long on health issues he would speak of his end with the resignation of one who has watched for years the seasons commence and then conclude, with some of the good and the bad in between, but never too much of one to make you forget the other.
I would ask questions during these sessions and when appropriate throw out a well placed condemnation, of this person or that, judgments with which he could only agree. Simple judgments of those things we deemed good and those things we deemed bad. The man and I derived comfort from these lines we drew which put us on one side of a moral issue and everyone else, except for good people like us, on the other.
Every so often I would suggest, whether I believed it or not, that things could only get so bad before they got better and patience would win out in the end and that all things have a course if we can endure the twists and turns of it. Yeah, he would agree, with appropriate skepticism.
On Wednesday he stopped by looking ill and said he was visiting so as to avoid killing the man with whom his wife of 30 years was having an affair. I told him I was glad he came by and not jokingly said he should always stop by before killing someone.
I offered him his preferred drink of sparking fresh spring water and poured myself some cold Russian vodka. He told me his wife had moved out and was the next day going to give him her decision as to whether the move was permanent, and precedent to her asking for 50 percent of everything they owned together. He talked for a good while until we both started yawning and he said he would have to leave soon to go hook himself up to the machine. Before he left he wiped clean from his cheek the three tears that had over the course of the conversation sprouted from the outside corner of his left eye and run down one deep crevasse in his tired face to form a small reservoir of clear despair, against the dam of an old scar.
Periodically, a man comes by Mt. Pleasant to communicate to me his problems. Months ago the problem was, by all appearances, a grifter woman taking advantage of his son. As my moderate understanding of the Internet was superior to his, he asked would I attempt some background checks on the woman. I did so and came up with just a little dirt (and while looking also found a reference to a mistake from my own past.) The man later contracted someone more curious and better equipped for this type of investigation. For weeks after I was--despite my inclination towards eye wandering mountain gazing--his patient and attentive sounding board for each new clod of fresh dirt dug up on the woman taking advantage of his son. All of this culminated in the son loosing his cool and punching the woman in the face and going to jail for a few weekends. The woman, now the perceived if not actual victim, runs free tugging effortlessly a rather remarkable list of malfeasance. The son is now quit of the woman, but not the debt she helped incur.
At times the man would punctuate his stories of fiscal woe with ones of health, as his two sons would offer and then rescind the offer of their extra kidneys, so that the man could annul his marriage to the dialysis machine. Focused so long on health issues he would speak of his end with the resignation of one who has watched for years the seasons commence and then conclude, with some of the good and the bad in between, but never too much of one to make you forget the other.
I would ask questions during these sessions and when appropriate throw out a well placed condemnation, of this person or that, judgments with which he could only agree. Simple judgments of those things we deemed good and those things we deemed bad. The man and I derived comfort from these lines we drew which put us on one side of a moral issue and everyone else, except for good people like us, on the other.
Every so often I would suggest, whether I believed it or not, that things could only get so bad before they got better and patience would win out in the end and that all things have a course if we can endure the twists and turns of it. Yeah, he would agree, with appropriate skepticism.
On Wednesday he stopped by looking ill and said he was visiting so as to avoid killing the man with whom his wife of 30 years was having an affair. I told him I was glad he came by and not jokingly said he should always stop by before killing someone.
I offered him his preferred drink of sparking fresh spring water and poured myself some cold Russian vodka. He told me his wife had moved out and was the next day going to give him her decision as to whether the move was permanent, and precedent to her asking for 50 percent of everything they owned together. He talked for a good while until we both started yawning and he said he would have to leave soon to go hook himself up to the machine. Before he left he wiped clean from his cheek the three tears that had over the course of the conversation sprouted from the outside corner of his left eye and run down one deep crevasse in his tired face to form a small reservoir of clear despair, against the dam of an old scar.
New York Times Breaking News
Wall Street Journal, AP Win Pulitzers 3:06 PM ET
NEW YORK (AP) -- The Wall Street Journal won two Pulitzer Prizes on Monday, including the public service award for its coverage of the stock-options scandal that rattled corporate America in 2006. The Associated Press captured one for breaking news photography for a picture of a Jewish woman defying Israeli security forces in the West Bank.
Report: S. Korea May Halt Aid to North 13 minutes ago
SEOUL, South Korea (AP) -- South Korea may suspend rice shipments to North Korea to ratchet up pressure on the North to comply with its nuclear disarmament pledges after it missed a deadline to shut an atomic reactor.
It's Hard Out Here Being a Taxpayer 14 minutes ago
WASHINGTON (AP) -- The deadline is upon us, and people across the country are finishing up an estimated 3.18 billion hours figuring out and filing their tax returns.
Wall Street Journal Wins 2 Pulitzers 15 minutes ago
NEW YORK (AP) -- The Wall Street Journal won two Pulitzer Prizes on Monday, including the public service award for its coverage of the stock-options scandal that rattled corporate America in 2006. The Associated Press captured one for breaking news photography for a picture of a Jewish woman defying Israeli security forces in the West Bank.
Jury Selection Begins for Jose Padilla 18 minutes ago
MIAMI (AP) -- Jury selection began Monday for the trial of alleged al-Qaida operative Jose Padilla and two co-defendants, with potential jurors questioned about their knowledge of Padilla's link to a purported ''dirty bomb'' plot.
Top Official Linked to Macedonian Attack 27 minutes ago
THE HAGUE, Netherlands (AP) -- Rami Jusufi was asleep when Macedonian police forced their way into his parents' yard on Aug. 12, 2001. As he walked to his front door, still wearing his pajamas, he was shot in the stomach, U.N. prosecutors said Monday.
AP: Edwards Says He's Strongest Pick 27 minutes ago
NASHVILLE, Tenn. (AP) -- Presidential candidate John Edwards said Monday that he is the strongest general election candidate in the Democratic field because he's won in the South and his chief rivals have not been tested there.
Bush Shocked at College Shootings 30 minutes ago
WASHINGTON (AP) -- President Bush was described Monday as shocked and saddened by the mass shooting at Virginia Tech, the deadliest campus violence ever in this country.
Wall Street Journal, AP Win Pulitzers 3:06 PM ET
NEW YORK (AP) -- The Wall Street Journal won two Pulitzer Prizes on Monday, including the public service award for its coverage of the stock-options scandal that rattled corporate America in 2006. The Associated Press captured one for breaking news photography for a picture of a Jewish woman defying Israeli security forces in the West Bank.
Report: S. Korea May Halt Aid to North 13 minutes ago
SEOUL, South Korea (AP) -- South Korea may suspend rice shipments to North Korea to ratchet up pressure on the North to comply with its nuclear disarmament pledges after it missed a deadline to shut an atomic reactor.
It's Hard Out Here Being a Taxpayer 14 minutes ago
WASHINGTON (AP) -- The deadline is upon us, and people across the country are finishing up an estimated 3.18 billion hours figuring out and filing their tax returns.
Wall Street Journal Wins 2 Pulitzers 15 minutes ago
NEW YORK (AP) -- The Wall Street Journal won two Pulitzer Prizes on Monday, including the public service award for its coverage of the stock-options scandal that rattled corporate America in 2006. The Associated Press captured one for breaking news photography for a picture of a Jewish woman defying Israeli security forces in the West Bank.
Jury Selection Begins for Jose Padilla 18 minutes ago
MIAMI (AP) -- Jury selection began Monday for the trial of alleged al-Qaida operative Jose Padilla and two co-defendants, with potential jurors questioned about their knowledge of Padilla's link to a purported ''dirty bomb'' plot.
Top Official Linked to Macedonian Attack 27 minutes ago
THE HAGUE, Netherlands (AP) -- Rami Jusufi was asleep when Macedonian police forced their way into his parents' yard on Aug. 12, 2001. As he walked to his front door, still wearing his pajamas, he was shot in the stomach, U.N. prosecutors said Monday.
AP: Edwards Says He's Strongest Pick 27 minutes ago
NASHVILLE, Tenn. (AP) -- Presidential candidate John Edwards said Monday that he is the strongest general election candidate in the Democratic field because he's won in the South and his chief rivals have not been tested there.
Bush Shocked at College Shootings 30 minutes ago
WASHINGTON (AP) -- President Bush was described Monday as shocked and saddened by the mass shooting at Virginia Tech, the deadliest campus violence ever in this country.
Personal Maintenance
One recent morning, fog on the mountain, fog in my head, compressed and tangled up under the covers, I reached for something that turned out to be me and gashed myself on a knuckle with a fingernail not long enough to be lethal, but hurtful just the same. Later that day orchestrating a symphony of awkward movements I sliced a line across my chin with the same weapon. A man working for me said how did you cut your chin? I know you didn't do it shaving, he went on to say. I had run out of shaving cream awhile back and was for days pondering what to do about it, while my lazy beard pretended to have purpose. Self conscious about too much laziness surrounding my scheme I purchased some shaving cream, and, certainly no more than a day later smeared it about my faced and scraped over it with a triple or perhaps quadruple bladed razor, and cut my lip in the process, which bled profusely and reminded me of all the school yard fights I avoided, except for the one where the kid spit in my ear. After shaving, and compressing my wound, risking no more, I trimmed my fingernails.
One recent morning, fog on the mountain, fog in my head, compressed and tangled up under the covers, I reached for something that turned out to be me and gashed myself on a knuckle with a fingernail not long enough to be lethal, but hurtful just the same. Later that day orchestrating a symphony of awkward movements I sliced a line across my chin with the same weapon. A man working for me said how did you cut your chin? I know you didn't do it shaving, he went on to say. I had run out of shaving cream awhile back and was for days pondering what to do about it, while my lazy beard pretended to have purpose. Self conscious about too much laziness surrounding my scheme I purchased some shaving cream, and, certainly no more than a day later smeared it about my faced and scraped over it with a triple or perhaps quadruple bladed razor, and cut my lip in the process, which bled profusely and reminded me of all the school yard fights I avoided, except for the one where the kid spit in my ear. After shaving, and compressing my wound, risking no more, I trimmed my fingernails.