Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Last Sunday I had lunch with my parents and grandmother. I don’t quite remember how it came about, but my father was recounting his childhood babysitter. She had punished him by administering enemas. As a wee lad, this must have traumatized my father; but since time heals all, he was now taking great delight in torturing my grandmother with the memory.
“Whaaooorh!” she snorts, “How come you didn’t tell me about it back then!”
“I was a child!” replies my father, while dialing my uncle Aldan on his phone, “Children don’t know how to talk about such things!”
“Yes, Aldan…it’s Willie…do you remember that babysitter…the one that gave us enemas?”
“Oh you bet I do.”
My father hangs up and flashes my grandmother a triumphal grin. “He remembers!”
Grandma chuckles heartily.
My family never ceases to amaze me.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
ANGELA: So did you hear about that *thing*? That they’re going to like *exterminate* fourth period lunch?
JORDAN: I didn’t hear that.
ANGELA: Oh, it’s just something some people are *obsessing* about. I mean, sometimes? People let all these stupid things *fill* their minds, you know? To keep from thinking about what’s you know *really* important.
ANGELA: Like this *World Happiness* Dance? I mean, it’s so *stupid*. What does that even *mean*? Like if we dance the world is really going to get happier? I mean, really. Come on. I don’t think so.
JORDAN (beat): There’s a dance?
ANGELA: Yeah! You know, there’s, um, like five hundred posters up around school about it.
Silence. Angela looks at Jordan, who seems comfortable never talking again for the remainder of his life.
ANGELA: I guess I kinda mean that the *idea* of the dance is kinda...false. I mean, I doubt I’m even going. I’m sure you’re obviously not going. Right?
JORDAN: See, I have this philosophy.
ANGELA (stunned, impressed): You have a philosophy?
JORDAN: If I go somewhere and someone I know is there. Then cool. There’s something... natural about it. But once you start making *plans*, then you have like *obligations*. Which basically blows. So my feeling is? Whatever happens? Happens.
ANGELA (nodding): I have to say. I really respect that.
Jordan hops into his car. Angela looks at him, waits a beat, wondering if he’s going to offer her a ride. He says nothing.
ANGELA (cont’d): Oh, I can’t... I left my Geometry book in my locker, so...Jordan drives off, leaving Angela with a forced smile plastered to her face.