Tuesday, August 26, 2008
I once walked out of a Blockbuster on a balmy evening in August when a man with a boa constrictor around his neck walked toward me. I was mesmerized by his t-shirt, a green tie-dye number and its movement which I didn't know was a snake until he came close enough. I screamed without thinking about it; I don't like snakes or surprises. He apologized, but I couldn't get it out of my head and dreamed of it for nights after.
I suppose most of the time we walk around in a daze, not noticing anything. When I taught, I spent a lot of time on this point, about how we all needed to strip the scrim of boredom and duty from our eyes and see things. It's so difficult in a world that demands so much just to get from point to point. Once I stood in a Kroger trying to feed cans into a machine to get money to buy groceries. The machine became full and started to beep in this grating way to alert the staff. Nobody came for a very long time, but I couldn't afford to leave without my receipt for the can money. At the time, I felt awful and tired from work and the Detroit hustle: the constant scramble for money and time and getting from job to job. To bring home some fake bacon and microwave it, the Enjoli commercial for our times. But now I look back fondly, thinking that it wasn't so bad to be young and tired and in a dirty grocery store, waiting to get a return on what I had so diligently saved.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Everything can change at any moment, suddenly and forever." Paul Auster
Drinking movie suggestion: Tropic Thunder
Benedictions and Maledictions