Revisited the site of my broken kneecap the other day -- the Galleria in Dallas. I hadn't been there since the dreaded day I tried to save my marriage with an ill-advised attempt at fun and frolic in the form of a day off for ice-skating. Lived in Texas my whole life. File this under dumb fucking ideas for the ages. My friend Hank said, Why not use sex? I hear an insurance claim being filed. I hear a call from the emergency room. Like in all kung-fu movies, the blind dude turned out to be prescient and it wasn't long before my sorry ass was calling from the emergency room of some dinky hospital, fulfilling prophecy just like in days of yore. My marriage died a few months later of what I like to think were natural causes with no acrimony (best to save that for later relationships which were a lot more, umm, troubled) and my knee healed without any help from doctors except for some delightful painkiller prescriptions. Nobody could believe it.
So there I was this week, cold blasting off the same ice-rink, drinking and eating right next to it. Everyone looked so fricking happy in their little skating outfits and whatnot. I could see the spot where I went down for the count, the ramp on which I'd been rolled out since I couldn't walk. It all seemed so benign. But leave it to me to find the telling detail. While walking out, I saw an entire display of children's artwork about being sexually abused with their notes about what it meant. Having had a couple of drinks, I knew I had to write everything down or forget it. So I sat down and went to work, causing my best friend to say, It isn't all depressing! Look at the butterflies next to it. The beautiful topiary! I laughed and said, Some people believe butterflies are spirits of dead children. She laughed and so did I. The rich people around took brief notice of me crawling around the floor, getting the words down right. I guess there are some places where I'm always destined to be floored.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"The future is that shirt. The future is Saturday night." Saturday Night Fever
Cocktail Hour
Drinking television suggestion: Season finale of The Wire (It was quite good. Plan on writing about it later this week.)
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Palm Sunday!
7 comments:
Happy Palm Sunday, Michelle! I did quite a bit of ice skating as a young up-and-coming priest in the Detroit area. I have many pleasant memories of skating out the Milk River unto Lake St. Clair. Sometimes the ice was two feet thick and one could drive a car out unto it. Of course, Henry Ford's car races on a cinder track on this same lake are famous, but I digress.--Cardinal Spellman
I must say I'm sorry for the errors in the above post, but I've been so busy putting palms behind the crucifixes, crosses and holy pictures today that I'm really a bit frazzled!! Have a good one!!--CS
The guy was like a pile-driver.--Ashley Alexandra Dupre
myCajunQ
IceSkategivemetheWillies
HappySPatDay
PatDOwn
R2C2BFree
ShzammmmRock!!!!!
Butterflies are the spirits of dead children? An effective image. We have a butterfly migration that happens here. In the fall. The butterflies cross lake Pontchartrain, many along the 24 mile long Causeway bridge. You drive through them day after day, breaking wings even though you don't want to.
Loved the bit about the butterflies. I really really liked this post, so casually emotive.
t
Aww, you were in Dallas? I was actually just at the Galleria for the first time about two weeks ago. I also considered skating there, myself, but settled on buying myself a smoothie and a stuffed rabbit instead.
I hope you're doing well, haven't heard from you in awhile! I'm actually moving to Chicago in a month or so, so I won't be in Dallas anymore... Texas was far better than I thought it would be, though. :)
Post a Comment