Monday, September 22, 2008

The Demands Of Paradise



At the hacienda in Truncas last week, a man named Roy told ghost stories while serving tequila. I don't find it too much of a stretch to believe in ghosts -- the past serves as a continual palimpsest and so much of what we view is through a scrim of the other world, the lives we have lived, will live, and wish we could live. The tequila also helps. On the night of the rehearsal dinner, one of my fellow bridesmaids got wasted on it and started twirling me. We're both terribly clumsy, drunk or sober, and this was not the best plan. She fell into me, her tooth planted into my forehead. I caught us both as I wasn't that drunk -- I can twirl without much help. "We were so high, Michelle," she said. "We were in the clouds in the sky. Going so fast."

"When your aura is weak," Roy said, "you get illness and death." I thought about all the people that surrounded me that week, some so happy, some radiating misery and knew he was right. Twirling couldn't last forever. The demands of paradise were many. I often sat next to a wall where many people were executed years ago, bullets still lodged in it. Even though I had dodged many a bullet in my life and wear them around my neck, now I wasn't so sure.

Michelle's Spell of the Day
"We create monsters and then we can't control them." Joel Coen

Cocktail Hour
Drinking movie suggestion: Burn After Reading

Benedictions and Maledictions
Thanks for all the comments and e-mails when I was away! I'll be getting to everything in the next few days. Hope everyone is having a happy Monday!

6 comments:

Charles Gramlich said...

We were so high, going so fast, reminds me a bit of the lyrics to Helter Skelter. Hum, coincidence?

Laura said...

Ouch! I hope you're okay.

Ghosts stories, tequila, dancing--Paradise, indeed. xo

Lana Gramlich said...

It must have been interesting to be next to the bullet ridden wall. The Celts believed that places retained the memories of events that'd happened there (thus our modern "ghost" stories.)
Sorry about the tooth to the head--that's never a good thing! *wince*

the walking man said...

pal·imp·sest (plmp-sst)
n.
1. A manuscript, typically of papyrus or parchment, that has been written on more than once, with the earlier writing incompletely erased and often legible.
2. An object, place, or area that reflects its history:

Nice word(s)

Wastelander said...

Self made monsters are the most difficult to dispatch...They have all of our own weaknesses and all of our desired strengths....Count your bullets...and aim high...

"When I get to the bottom
I go back to the top of the slide
Where I stop and turn
and I go for a ride
Till I get to the bottom and I see you again."

Viva Detroit!...(swallows worm, licks salt, sucks lime)

Heff said...

Real hair color ? Just curious.