January 3, 2009
-
1 I always assume that in my previous life I was a dog, and that one day when I get back from all this, I will assume that role, finally reaching the karmic state for which I was clearly intended.
2 Then again, I have times that clearly insist that I was once a cartoon cat, a sort of Jerry to the world's Tom, constantly jetting away right before life moves in.
3 Welcome back.
4 The other night I was comfortably back in school, doing everything I was supposed to, knowing full well that I had made it to lunch without some form of forgotten catastrophe jumping all over me.
5 A walkie crackled. "Where IS he???"
6 My good friend Margaret's voice reassured the caller, "He's somewhere, I'm sure. Just relax!"
7 I felt as though I stood in a dark alley, listening as lights and sounds flashed all around me. I was an alley cat caught in a cartoon. And I was on lunch, to boot, meaning that I was to answer to no one.
8 It suddenly hit me that we were on a special schedule and that I was supposed to be teaching my last class.
9 Something in me jolted me into the air. I somehow hit a frying pan and flattened, sliding back down the side of it onto an enormous plate.
10 I awoke trembling.
11 It was 5 a.m. and I was safely on my couch, my eyes glowing loudly in the dark, any frosty sense of the chill hitting only the middle of my chest and my third toe in.
12 I looked around, noticing how many things had LCD lights. They trailed in and out of the kitchen area, walked along my east wall, and danced directly in front of my new laptop, a contraption that has literally thousands blinking on and off at various times throughout the night.
13 I touched the motherboard and the thing lit up with the passion of a winter sunrise.
14 It was time.
15 Harper cries. S-h-h-h-h.
16 "...'tis time."
17 Is 5 a.m. considered early or late?
18 I knew instinctively to begin writing this morning's DN; that much I DID know.
19 As I waited for Xanga to pop up, I noticed that the cursor or whatever you call that little thing that dashes crazily all over the screen had suddenly begun darting off to each corner, hiding as I drew circles everywhere in a demented attempt at finding it before my ideas ran out.
20 The little imp hid on me, suddenly jumping across the screen and popping off just as swiftly. I heard the dog awaken with a nervous shake. It wouldn't be long before she would come to my ear and bark with a tenor that would shatter all the windows on the Temple of Jupiter. I logged into Trend, the Internet police and put it to work in the background. I understand that the Trojan Horse has been seen lurking in our parts, and that threats have been made on a bi-daily basis. I instructed Trend on the situation, and it fell into hiding.
21 Just then it occurred to me that I had NO idea what the word "viscerous" meant, and instinctively went to "Dictionary.com" to find out.
22 It became a race. I had to find that out before I did anything else. I assume it's because like most people, I know deep inside that I'm a complete sham, that some day the entire world will KNOW, for gawdsakes, and that my cover will be blown.
23 This is why you shouldn't take a shot of Ny-Quil just before you retire for the evening, especially when you're at the tail end of a Christmas vacation, and you KNOW that re-entry will occur in 048 hours. Instinctively, the cursor knew this and began cooperating. Thank goodness for that.
24 I came up empty on the word, and began talking in tongues: "Vis" means "live or life" and Ceres was the god of...
25 Oh what the HELL was Ceres the god of...? Was he a dog? Or was he a she?
26 I KNEW that one but went again to "Dictionary.com" which instantly reminded me that Ceres was the Roman goddess of agriculture, akin to the Greek Demeter. So "viscerous" must have been something having to do with a farmer who was full of life, a lively farmer. Not bloody likely, but I liked it.
27 Demeter. I jumped back to the DN. The pronunciation rang in my head: "dem' uh ter". At least that's how MY teacher taught it to me.
28 Dem' uh ter. I didn't know how to make a schwah, or upside-down "e", so I just wrote "uh", which I know to be the same pronunciation.
29 A high voice, presumably of my sister Gayle, popped up in my left ear. "Duh-MEET-ur" it said, not with a whisper, but with a bang. I stood corrected once again, all in the darkness of the morning. I heard a loud, high-pitched "BOWT!!!"
30 Dog. Pee. Freezing morning. Sliding door. Blast of frost. Skittish dog paws. Waggy tail. Fear of prowler. Darkness. LCD lights. Frost.
31 The dog scurried into the yard at alarming speed, presumably to chase the prowler, and I hurried back to the computer to look up the pronunciation of the word "Demeter". Six different dictionaries had it at "Di MEET ir", Gayle's pronunciation, even though Gayle had nothing to do with any of this. I was wrong, wrong, wrong!
32 Mute rolling of thunder, followed by shrieking "BOWT!"
33 Dog ran into sliding door, or at least it sounded like it. I get back up. Dog is okay. Open door. Blast of frost. Close door almost on dog's icy nose. She slips past and bounds down hall. Close door. Back to computer. Go to the blue light. Make swift tense shift.
34 As the frost wore off it occurred to me that the word I was looking for was "visceral", which in medical terms has to do with intestines and bowels ("viscera") but to normal people simply means "acting by instinct rather than reason".
35 Perfect.
36 It's 6:52 a.m. Still dark. Still freezing. I can't wait to finish up so I could put down the screen and watch the LCD lights come out bright as stars.
37 Trend Micro, the Internet police, pops up to tell me that all security threats have been removed.
38 "Visceral". Means "instinctive".
39 I knew it.
40 I stopped worrying. I wasn't a flattened cartoon cat. I wasn't a guy who didn't know the word "visceral". I wasn't a sham.
41 It's still.
42 All is calm. All is bright. The cat just awoke. He'll bother me until I get up and turn the water on in the bathroom sink. He refuses to drink out of a bowl, or even the toilet. He's a fountain cat. He's a cool cat. His name is Todd.
43 Welcome back.
44 Peace.
~H~
Recent Comments