stories from the old neighborhood

stories without a point, pointed sticks, jokes without punchlines, sputtering angry outbursts, ephemeral whatnots, wispy thoughts, sad regrets, dreams of spring, nostalgia for childhood lost, nosy neighbors, noisy neighbors, what the neighbors left behind when they moved, whiskers on kittens, stuff that was stolen, art that was found, misty water colored memories of the way things were, raindrops on eyelashes, foreign body lodged in lower eyelid, cluttered bookshelves, cabinet of curiosities

Saturday, December 27, 2014

Removed by Distance, Time, and Distraction

Has this every happened to you?

You are wholly, merrily engaged, reading, drawing, (cough), engaged with the internet, when surprise, surprise, surprise, your Spidey sense tingles, a vague forboding, a slight discomfort, your vision dims, you look up and lo, the apartment is full of smoke. It may be that in baking a potato, you forgot a dish of chopped coconut in the broiler--what was it doing there? Good question Chumly. Explain that to the truck load of handsome firemen coming to the door you opened to let the smoke billow out. Thanks neighbors for watching out. Or maybe you thought you were turning on the fire under the hot water kettle looking forward to a nice cup of tea. Except you absentmindedly turned on the empty, buttery griddle that you made grilled cheese in for your eldest, cheese-loving child until said pan blackens. Will Bon Ami really help you out?

Oh, never, you say? Well, (cough), good for you. Don't let this happen to you in the future, yeah?

Several years ago in San Francisco, we missed seeing Robert Plant in a free concert in

Golden Gate (?) Park because we had to spend hours returning a rental car to the airport.

If we read the fine print we would have noticed the neighborhood drop off place was closed that day and would have arrange to drop it there the next day. I pined away thinking the closest I would come to the presence of Mr. Plant was a secondhand encounter. My coworker one day found herself walking behind a long-haired and very handsome man on a downtown street. Sometimes you can tell someone is gorgeous without even seeing his/her face. She enjoyed the moment all the more when he turned around. Sometimes you can feel someone eyes drinking you in.

My only encounter of walking behind a famous person and the faded, worn seat of his cotton pants happened near the Steppenwolf Theater, the known clotheshorse? John Malkovich.

Imagine my happiness and delight when we had an opportunity to attend a Robert Plant concert in our own hometown. Those emotions were tempered with cigarette and other smokes of the fellow attendees, the whooping of a nearby gentleman who was attempting to has his voice carry to the far off stage, and the misery of my 10-year-old daughter who thankfully went the distance. We heard all my favorite songs with the exception of "Stairway to Heaven" which he declined to perform.

Wishing you sweetness,