Sally Quartermain, the Lady who would be queen and I had one of 10,000 discussions about life and how she can’t possibly imagine living it without me.
“Listen SQ, you don’t have to worry about me dying and leaving you with nothing but memories because you are financially solvent, educated and under my protection. That includes my plan to sell a sponsorship to a major brand.”
Her eyes narrowed and she asked me if it was another one of my crazy plans.
“Careful, I’ll kiss you and you’ll lose the ability to think.”
She rolled her eyes and I said that since the presidumb had made it ok to use the oval in the same manner as a carnival barker we had a great opportunity.
Picture the Rose Garden sponsored by Grimace or Ronald McDonald’s Resolute Desk.
We’ll take a small percentage of the millions and be known forever as the only people to make a honest dollar during the Trump administration.”
She told me she didn’t like the idea and I said we’d give a large percentage of our earnings to Biden’s campaign and organizations that support undocumented immigrants.
The Way We Were
She said something about the way we were and I launched into a full throated rendition, “Memories….and then moved right into you don’t bring me flowers any more.”
“You dope, two different songs.”
I just laughed and was told the point of the comment wasn’t to talk about romance.
“Damn, I though it was lucky number seven, as in seven years of pent up something or other which would lead to seven years of good luck. You could then multiply that by seven meant 49 more years which probably would cover most if not all of our remaining time on the planet.
See, I good at math. I good at counting.”
Another eye roll and a comment about an active imagination and how there was a time when the country wasn’t broken and people didn’t politicize a pandemic.
“You’re right, I agree. But that gives me another idea, can we pitch ‘Covid19 sponsored by Pfizer? I bet we can sell that for a good $30 million or so. Leadership doesn’t care what we do as long as they make a buck.”
Are We On The Island Or Sailing Back?
I never get tired of the theme from Cast Away. Something about it is so sad and so hopeful.
I have spent more hours than anyone knows on the water or sitting by it again. More time thinking about things I don’t readily share if at all but I am not bothered by that.
Some things aren’t meant to be posted online.
And in the midst of the craziness sometimes I go back to this scene because it is filled with battery charging energy.
Experience has repeatedly shown me I can’t predict what the tide will bring or how some things will turn.
Every time I have been convinced of some I have been proven wrong so I shrug my shoulders and push on.
Today was one of those days where I wondered about so many things. I was stuck on the island by myself and though I thought I could see shore I wasn’t sure.
Pulled out my cellphone and played a few messages I have saved from Dad. Accidentally hit the phone icon on one and it dialed his number.
I disconnected immediately and joked about whether he would call back. No one did and I forgot about it.
Somewhere around 7 PM I looked at my phone and saw a missed call notification. Dad called back or more likely who ever took over his number called to see who had called them.
Chances are their phone doesn’t have my name in it and they have no idea their number is listed in mine as Dad.
I damn near called back just in case some of that magic I am always talking about was in the air because I knew if he picked up he would know what was going on.
And I knew that he would have something to say about it, wouldn’t have to be anything in particular because something is better than nothing.
But I didn’t call because I didn’t want to explain to whomever picked up who I was. Didn’t want to ask if anyone called for Orrie or hear what they said.
Figured if that magic really does exist he’ll find a way to reach me that isn’t predicated upon technology and gadgets which is kind of funny because he loved those.
Back on the island I reminded myself I just had to keep going a little bit longer and this part would be over.
I thought about things and remembered how many meals I ate alone in my apartment in Texas. How many nights I paced in front of a television show I wasn’t really watching.
How many days I fought to get through because there was a dream that if I did those things it would ultimately benefit my kids and that it would provide other things as well.
So much has happened. So much has changed.
It is not always easy, sometimes it is very hard.
But the tide will bring something in and who knows what possibility will be opened up by that.