Category Archives: Interruptions

Deborah

I saw a zebra once while driving. That is to say, I’ve seen a zebra once, while being driven.

I was not driving. I was in the car while it was driven and I, therefore, being driven.

To the Tyrone Mill, just outside (or inside, depending on where you’re coming from) Bowmanville, Ontario. That’s where I saw the zebra.

Pronounced: zee-bruh or zeh-bruh (therefore rhymes with Deborah, like in the song by T.Rex [as featured in the movie, Baby Driver]).

You know the song?

 

Oh Debora, always look like a zebra

Your sunken face is like a galleon

Clawed with mysteries of the Spanish Main, oh Debora.

 

Oh, Debora!

The zebra was gazing in a paddock close to the mill. It was a quick glance, but undeniable. There it was, a real, live zebra somewhere in and/or around Bowmanville, Ontario.

I would swear to it, and I would pass every test, every lie detector, withstand any interrogator (military or otherwise) who pressed me on it. And I would be right. And I would be wrong.

Because I was right; I am wrong. Mostly so. Either way.

Zee-bruh. Zeh-bruh.

According to the clerk at the Mill – who is friends, it turns out, with the daughter of the people who own the properly with the field in which I saw the zebra – I did and did not see a zebra. The zebra. Because the zebra is a horse, the horse (the mostly white horse), cloaked in a zebra-striped horse blanket.

The zebra…it was a horse, of course (dressed as a zebra).

Now, surely. You can understand my mistake, which is not so much a mistake, I think, so much as a calculated misunderstanding (done by me on someone else’s behalf…who dresses up a horse as a zebra, and a mostly white horse at that, without expecting people to see a zebra where there is no zebra but a horse dressed like a zebra?).

A horse, of course, of course, and not a zebra but the guise of one.

Zeh-bruh. Zee-bruh.

Tomayto. Tomahto.

And Deborah.

Oh, Deborah!

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Animals, Communications, Interruptions, Movies, Places

Good White Shirt

Someone stole Stephen’s white dress shirt from the communal laundry room.

We liked to call that shirt his good white shirt. Now the shirt is gone, gone, gone.

Nothing else was taken, even though there were other, what we also call “good” shirts in that particular load of laundry. Blue ones, a purple one. One in cascading shapes like fish and birds.

I sometimes wonder about that shirt. The good white shirt.

Why just that shirt?

 That shirt and nothing else?

In my more generous moments, I like to think that whomever took that shirt really needed it. For a job interview or custody hearing; a night out (someplace nice or at least, nicer) or a funeral (paired with a black jacket, or navy blue one depending on the shade).

In my not so generous moments, I like to remember how the sleeves of that shirt are just a little longer than you’d think, how the cut of it is specific and on most non-Stephen-shaped bodies would hang loosely and weird, like a strand of wilted fronds over an undersized fence or a full dead skin draped over a stranger’s lap.

Most times, I don’t think of that shirt at all. But then again…. it’s not like we are made of shirts (good shirts).

Why just that shirt?

That shirt and nothing else?

It’s a pickle, it is. Not the shirt, but the situation.

But you know what I mean.

 

 

 

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Family, Fashion, Interruptions, People, Work

Sleepy Time

Between No Sleep and Interrupted Sleep, there is the sweet, sweet spot of Sleep.
Sleep on a spectrum, can you believe it?
I can’t believe it.
Seems quite unbelievable.

***

If not Sleep, I’d rather have No Sleep than Interrupted Sleep.
I need to get into the rhythm, get into the flow. And if I can’t do that, then I don’t want any of it.

Anyway, there’s a certain inexorableness, a fatefulness to No Sleep that, in its own way, is to be much appreciated. You know what you’re going to get, which is none at all. Make peace with that and move on.

Interrupted Sleep, however. There’s a still that hope that some sleep will occur, isn’t there? Any kind at all. Any kind that will do. And it’s that hope that will kill you, isn’t it? If you’re not careful. It’ll get you in the end.
Dare to dream?

***

Knock, knock!
Who’s there?
Interrupting Cow.
Interrupt –

Anyway! You know the rest.
Besides, I forgot the…um, you know…?
What was I saying again?
Oh. Right.
MOO!

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Dreams, Health, Interruptions, Mind and Body

Future Tense

I’ve found that I can commit to things (i.e. birthday parties, baby showers, dinners out, shows) when I already (that is beforehand) have an exit strategy in place (i.e. illness, emergency, act of God).

“I’m, uh, rather feverish at the moment.”

“My dog threw up!”

“My roof collapsed?”

I seldom, if ever, use the exit. But the fact that it is there, in place, is as much as a comfort as it is a crutch (is this, really, the Good Life? Can’t I do better?).

Also this: I tell myself that the event is so far, like out there, in the future, that it’s almost like not committing at all! That is a problem for another day, which is not today, maybe not even tomorrow.

And then, eventually, it hits me: the future is now. Or it will be.

Every. Single. Time.

(For the time being, anyway.)

I suppose I could just commit to less, make things more manageable, more orderly, less stressful. But I’m not there yet. I’m still not up to being that person, not yet.

I am becoming that person, yes, certainly. Eventually, I think so, I hope so.

But not now.

For now (for right now): I’d love to go to your thing! Count me in!

Yeah. Can’t hardly wait.

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Change, Communications, Events, Interruptions, Mind and Body, Philosophy, Routines, THE FUTURE

Lonesome Shoe

Every day for the past two weeks the same, sad sight: the shoe.

The lone shoe next to the sidewalk. The left shoe, one of a lost pair placed gingerly on a stone, waiting to be claimed. As if to say, “Here I am! I’ve been here this whole time, waiting like a good shoe should. Waiting for you.”

lone shoe

It is a very nice shoe, though at this point it has been rained and snowed on, at least twice. Who knows what else? Splendid still, despite everything, yet it is beginning, now, to take on the appearance of being constantly (perhaps permanently) wet.

As in sodden, soaked and sopping. And alone, to boot.

Poor shoe.

It’s still there, you know. Carried over from last year into this one, into this, the fourth day of the new year.

Poor left shoe.

Perhaps pants would be better.

Pants would be funnier, splayed out against the curb, brandished against the asphalt.

Pants, at least, are never lonesome.

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under City Life, Interruptions, Philosophy

Please Select That Which Best Applies

If I do not know the ordering procedure of a particular eating establishment, I will:

a) Decide to go somewhere else.

b) Eventually convince myself that I am not that hungry after all.

c) Stare on in puzzlement until it’s officially socially awkward for everyone involved.

d) Turn heel. Run home.

e) b & d

f) a & c

 

Your puppy:

a) Is the most adorable thing I have ever seen. Your puppy has therefore ruined my life.

b) Is the absolute best.

c) I WANT A PUPPY.

d) I cannot afford a puppy right now.

f) All of the above.

 

What That Guy Said?:

a) “Old.”

b) “Ode.”

c) “Auld.”

d) “Bald.”

e) “Sassafras gonads.”

 

PUNCTUATION THROWDOWN:

a) .

b) !

c) : OR ;

d) c OR Both

e) c & d

f) How come no one cares about ampersand?

 

Discreet Flatulence:

a) Acceptable.

b) Diabolical.

c) You ruined it by calling if “flatulence.”

 

Book or Movie:

a) Book.

b) Movie.

c) Both is not an answer.

c) Both.

 

You’ll be in:

a) My heart.

b) My thoughts and/or prayers.

c) Deep shit.

d) Shallow Paraguay.

 

I would love to:

a) Help.

b) Be able to help.

c) Consider helping.

d) Consider being able to help.

e) b, c & d

f) Never a.

 

Choose Your Fighter:

a) Emperor Penguin.

b) Death Cap Mushroom.

c) Giant Spider.

d) Tiny T-Rex.

e) Haunted Waterslide.

f) Ugly American.

 

Nonsensical:

a) “Owning the Libs.”

b) “I can fix them.”

c) “I’m sorry if…”

d) “All lives matter.”

e) “Books are dead.”

f) All of the above (plus a few others, TBA).

g) All of the above (but e especially).

 

Good answer:

a) Yes.

b) No.

 

Best answer:

a) No.

b) GOD NO.

 

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Animals, Books, Communications, Dogs, Interruptions, Mind and Body, Places

3 Ghost Stories

1. Bannister

The first house my parents ever owned was haunted. They lived there for a year then moved before I was born. Whenever we drove past the house (a two story derelict Victorian), my mom would point it out and say, “That’s our old house. It’s haunted.”

She knows this because every night she lived there she dreamed of an old woman who beckoned her from the bottom of the stairs.

Follow me, the woman commanded. Follow me.

It took her entire strength of will for my mom to resist, clinging with all her might to the bannister even as she felt herself irrevocably pulled towards the woman. It happened every night. Every night, the struggle, the temptation.

Sometimes my mom is convinced that it wasn’t a dream, though she never doubts that the ghost was there, real as anything.

Lesson: Better safe than ever sorry.

Sorry, not sorry.

 

2. Bathroom

My aunt often told us the story about how when she was a little girl, she was terrified of having to go the bathroom at night. There were toilet ghosts, you see, that grabbed at her or which appeared in the mirror or in the corners of the room. They stared and laughed at her and ran the length of the ceiling, disappearing behind the toilet and into the walls.

Most nights, this would happen.

Eventually, she learned to hold it until morning. She advised us to do the same, because who knows?

Lesson: Anyone can learn, given the right incentives.

Also: anything can happen if you decide to go wandering at night, even the ridiculous impossible. Even in your own home. Especially in your own house. Ghosts can do more than just beckon.

 

3. Bedroom

My siblings and I shared a bedroom for the years we lived at my grandparents’ house. A multigenerational household it was too (our family of five, my grandparents, a few aunts and an uncle), though for me that just meant dealing with a lot of overbearing bodies: too many talking, jabbering heads, befouling the air around you; too many pairs of hands and feet, taking up space. There was a lot of tension, living in that house, and no escape from it.

I found out much later that my parents, grandparents, my aunts and uncle believed that 1) our bedroom was, indeed, very haunted (specifically by a being that liked to sit on you and draw your “essence” away from your body, as they each in their own turn had experienced), but that they also thought 2) it was OK for us to sleep in the very haunted bedroom because “the ghost won’t bother the children.”

The fact that we knew not to listen to ghosts, the fact that we stayed in that bedroom all night without compliant was proof of that, wasn’t it?

Lesson: The cost of a reprieve can be invaluable if you don’t have to pay for it yourself.

“The ghost won’t bother the children.” They seemed so sure of this. More, it seems that despite their own beliefs, the adults had no trouble transferring the responsibility of their fear to us, of saddling us with the burden of keeping things in check.

I had believed hauntings to be many things. I had not known until then that they could be also be convenient. Expedient to a point, and to a fault.

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Family, Ghosts, Interruptions, THE PAST

Q&A

Asking questions to which the answer is known is one thing.

Asking leading questions in search of an answer is another.

Questions are said to be more important than answers.

Because there are no stupid questions.

There are no stupid questions?

How about ridiculous inquiries? Pointless inquires? Abject probes?

Yes and yes and oh, hell Honey, yes.

But I guess that depends on who’s asking, never minding why.

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Communications, Interruptions, Language, Ritual, Words

Dream State

Lou got me up early and it was a relief.

“I’m tired of dreaming,” I told him. “Let’s go out.”

It was a miserable, wet day and the sun had already decided to shun the remainder. That was also fine, also a great relief. Such a pitiless contrast between the dream and waking world was exactly what I needed to ground myself in the here and now. The real world?

I suppose I could describe the dreams; these dreams I’ve been having over the past couple of days (and days). And I do remember them.

But no.

The imagery is still too sharp, the flashes of dream reality too visceral. I feel more than I remember, but that’s more than enough.

Why this? Why now? That is not for me to say.

Let me just say: the subconscious is a lewd, lewd place.

Also: I am so over cowboy hats.

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Dogs, Dreams, Interruptions, Mind and Body, Pets

Nothing/Everything

The thing I won’t buy at the grocery store because it’s “too expensive” I’ll buy at the gas station because “whatever.”

I’ve largely forgotten how to do long division but actually wouldn’t mind a few remainders.

I doughnut care.

If it’s distasteful, chances are it’s also delicious.

(Can I do this in one hundred words or less?)

I like the pomp and appreciate the pageantry, but wonder sometimes about the spectacle.

Idle worship, and then I’m out.

(Eighteen words to go – no, thirteen)

I’d like to think I’m a good person. I’d like that very much.

Nothing’s funny; everything’s hilarious.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Downtime, Food, Interruptions, Language, Words