I asked Bruce to keep me company during the letter writing campaign and he obliged as he always does.
Put my Smith-Corona on the table and listened to the clickety-clack of the keys and the satisfying ding at the end of the page.
Using an older machine that doesn’t come with mistake erasing features so occasionally I use white out and try not to sniff too deeply lest I come up with a contact high that will kill brain cells.
Not sure how many I have left, perhaps not enough to waste any.
Hard to say as there are moments where I am certain I am smarter and cleverer than a specific set of people and moments where it is clear I am not.
Always a few people who are there to push me to keep on keeping on saying that it is clear I am the man for the moment and always those who ask if the two times my parents dropped me caused brain damage.
Who knows, maybe both are correct.
I am who I am and you can love me or hate me as you wish. Doesn’t matter what I say anyhow as I can’t control how you feel or so some have told me.
Still I conduct my letter writing campaign, my blitz of words upon a page knowing some read all, even if they aren’t consistent.
Sometimes the queen takes the king and he wonders how it happened and why he can’t figure out the particulars and specifics.
If he has some wisdom he’ll stay down for a moment and consider his options as opposed to bouncing back up and racing back into something he can’t see clearly.
Got a call from someone today whose hair was on fire and who had lasers shooting from their eyeballs.
I let them rant for a few and waited until they asked if I was paying attention and told them I heard everything and then some.
“So why didn’t you react?”
“Do you want a thoughtful response or a knee jerk reaction. Sometimes it is smarter to take a breath and think.”
They told me that almost sounded offensive and I ought to consider my next words carefully.
“If you want my help you’ll have to accept I don’t wear a sweater when other people are cold or jump just because you said too.”
They did as I asked and then I set about trying to solve for x and worked on a series of solutions hoping that those I asked to lend a hand would do as I requested.
Eventually the sun set and the stars twinkled across a black sky but gave no hint f whether the things I asked for would be done.
I laughed and wished for something far more complex and challenging than the mundane requests I made thinking that it just might happen.
Why?
Because I have a feeling about something that isn’t based upon logic or reason but gut feeling and wondered if I would be proven prophetic or foolish.
Never know, maybe we’ll say פעם שלישית, גלידה
Calendar says the follow up visit with the doc is coming soon and the promises I made to myself and the promissory notes attached to them are going to come due soon.
The air is running but I still feel a heaviness from the heat and humidity. Going to be a night where I have to run the ceiling fan too.
Bruce has moved on to Secret Garden and it makes me think of the kingdom and a castle whose drawbridge remains upright but could be lowered at any time.
Sometimes you march straight to it knowing the secrets of Jericho and sometimes you tunnel under, climb over or wait for a sign.
Wait for no reason you can put your finger upon other than it just seems right and right is good enough.
Just put on You Don’t Mess Around With Jim and consider whether a beer is intriguing enough to pull out of the fridge or if it is better to climb upon the treadmill and watch younger people chase medals.
