Safely Celebrating an Unsolved Mystery in Everyday Ramblings

  • March 16, 2015, 12:14 p.m.
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  • Public

It poured here for most of the weekend. It was dark and gloomy and about as wet as one can get. My big heavy broad brimmed hat got soaked all the way through and then I had to carry it around for a few hours. It was weirdly warm as well. It is official; we have the lowest snow pack in recorded history for us. This does help with spring flooding. But otherwise it is very scary. We will adapt, our plants will adapt, and what animals are left will adapt.

I found it hard not to think sad thoughts on such a day. I think about all the packaging that we use that does not get recycled and I just shudder. But all we can do is what we can do. I signed a petition, an old fashioned paper one yesterday at church and the passionate man behind the table was trying to get me interested in a seminar on socially responsible investing and a new fund that Pax World has created to invest in gender equality.

I kind of thought that was a non sequitur, it is not that I am not interested in gender equality, he said there was specific emphasis on investing in such a way to make life better for transgendered persons. It is more like, what does that have to do with climate change?

Then this older gentleman enthusiastically accosted me and asked if I believed in the right to health care for all. I said “Of course!” and he practically grabbed me and wanted me to get involved in some action on that matter. I awkwardly mumbled some platitude, clearly annoying him and slipped away.

It is a challenge isn’t it, when you believe in something, passionately, intensely, and almost desperately want to see change in that area? And folks that “should” be actively involved mummer soothing words and sneak away.

There is a tagger in the neighborhood. He or she uses a bright deep orange spray paint and an incomprehensible script. I saw tags by this individual across the river but near the water on Saturday and yesterday close in on this side in public spaces, usually over other tags.

I have been thinking about that, this idea, of “look at me, I was here, I matter”, and the anger and alienation behind this kind of tagging. It is not art. Not this. It is about getting attention and response.

And I was wondering if writing here on Prosebox or on the diary isn’t a kind of graffiti?

Look at me, pay attention to me, notice me, see me, respond to me, and connect with me!

And of course the basic human need (and right I suppose) to share.

Say, that I discovered last night that Diego likes goat cheese, I was making savory muffins with sweet roasted asparagus, peas and yes goat cheese) and had to pick him up off the counter and gently put him on the floor about 12 times because he really wanted to “help”. Or that I am finishing up week three of my stair climbing challenge hoping to, and actually achieving an increase in aerobic capacity in three minutes a day. I am working up to five minutes.

I think in my princess Noko, vain regret sort of way, maybe I should write about more cheerful fun stuff in an upbeat positive entertaining manner and then I’d get more comments. I tell myself no one here wants to hear details about what I am passionate about teaching better in my yoga classes because most of you don’t practice yoga. No one wants to hear about my grief and sense of displacement with my oldest sister gone unless I can come up with some beautifully wrought hook.

But these are things I need to talk about. And I need to find companions to do this with.

…Or the creepy skinny guy and his overweight female companion sitting in an old red SUV giving him soda and egging him on, like something out of Justified, digging a hole, a big deep hole, big enough for him to stand in up to his chest in the vacant lot next to my place last week.

Well…You might want to hear about that. :)

The police did. I called them when I saw them out there three days later digging another hole right next to the first one. What the heck were they doing?

It is a mystery that I hope with all my heart never gets resolved.
Shiver.


Last updated March 16, 2015


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