Friday, September 22, 2006
Five Easy Pieces
As a child, I had a weak eye, much along the order of Karen Black, the B-list actress from the 70s. The eye, my left, wasn't weak all the time -- it had a tendency to tire after long days of reading and loll a little closer to the nose than was aeshetically pleasing. My mother took me to the doctor, the same one who had treated my first stomach ulcer (I was five -- the doctor said, Margie, you must get the child to relax, in a thick lovely Indian accent that somehow worked its magic. The ulcer got better). Dr. Kumar prescribed eye exercises. If they didn't work, I would have to go to optomertist, and it would probably require surgery to fix it. So I had incentive to do them all the time.
The exercises made me look as if I'd had a dose of electroshock therapy, but I loved them. Fixing my weak eye, I was taking charge of my destiny! My mother urged me on -- Do you want to look like Karen Black? Do your exercises! You'll be pretty if you do your exercises! I followed lights with my eyes, moved them from side to side. One of her friends said, Is Michelle retarded? She's so quiet and all that crazy eye stuff. I glared at him with my one strong eye and my one eye-in-training. When he got up to go to the bathroom, I took a big sip of his drink, a large screwdriver. The liquid burned going down, but I was not deterred. I gulped what I could before his return and continued on in my manic way until I was dizzy. When he returned, I looked at him straight on and both eyes focused, a breakthrough. There was no question as to what I was looking at.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"I'm so insignificant I can't even kill myself. " Miles, Sideways
Drinking music suggestion: What's Going On, Marvin Gaye
Benedictions and Malediction
Restaurant suggestion for Friday: Andiamos