Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Pop Goes The Weasel
While I lived on the east side of Detroit, I found myself dreading each summer not because of the heat (as a native Texan, I love the mild midwest summer), but because of the ice-cream truck. At least fifteen times a day, "Pop Goes The Weasel" would drift through the window while I tried to write in a small corner of the living room, a beautiful old-fashioned alcove that I deemed my office. There's something inherently creepy about the ice-cream man, something that smacks of a pedophile paradise. It doesn't help that the last one I saw was wearing a shirt that read "I Would Do Me." While I'm sure he was no John Wayne Gacy, it did give me pause.
Having done a lot of teaching in my life, I enjoy summer for the time off, but I don't really like many summer activities. Especially loathe the pressure to "get out of the house." Why anyone needs to leave a house is beyond me. Having spent my twenties bathed in baby oil and Coppertone SPF Four, I have no desire to do further sun damage. And getting ice-cream in public doesn't do much for me either. I'm more of an eat myself sick privately type. In a world full of flavors, I don't have much interest in anything that isn't reminiscent of something else like creme brulee (the best Ben and Jerry's flavor to my way of thinking). The ice-cream truck in Detroit got shot at from time to time -- but it always returned with its song and the driver, like me, probably looking forward to the end of summer.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"One should never write down or up to people, but out of yourself." Christopher Isherwood
Drinking memoir suggestion: Books: A Memoir Larry McMurtry
Benedictions and Maledictions
Hey Suzanne, thanks so much for the sweet comment! Loved your book which I bought right after attending a wedding. Within minutes of said wedding actually, and it cheered me up tremendously. Read Split -- whether you're in a groovy relationship, breaking up, breaking down, or just in the mood for something dark and funny.