Does anyone remember those hokey essays your teacher gave you the first week back to school?
How I spent my summer vacation … remember you always counted those words. “Teacher, teacher, how many words?” So you counted the words in the title, didn’t you?
Blah, blah, blah.
Don’t get hung up with details … I did tons of things … let’s leave it at that.
Another year begins …
And as another year begins, I am clueless as to what I should say and do on the blog, today, next Wednesday or all the other Wednesdays to come.
This morning I thought to jump into a first person satirical monologue on the dangers of mass hypnosis, the plague of yellow journalism, the phenomena of the “talking heads,” and the truth behind Big Brother.
Needing a good laugh, however, I’ll spare you.
And in the spirit of fair play, to preserve the mantra of our super heroes, and for the sake of “truth, justice and the American way,” I will borrow from my alter-ego, Antoinette.
Television advertising for instance …
Do you suffer from RLS?
What the hell is RLS you ask? It’s Restless Leg Syndrome. Happily, the ABC Drug Company has the cure.
Along with RLS there are also a plethora of neurotic ills that plague our fellow citizens … consider if you will COD, ADHD or any combination of dyslexic, anorexic, bulimic, bi-polar disorders, more fascinating than alphabet soup.
Then, of course, there is my new favorite … PD.
Think about your granny or your old maid Aunt Mabel sitting with their knitting. They hear the strains of romantic music and look up with a smile at their twelve-inch RCA to see a man and a woman gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes.
Do you or your mate suffer from penile dysfunction?
You can’t make this stuff up folks.
Neurosis is what neurosis does.
“Being in the moment.” Like I have a choice or maybe I could wiggle my nose and not be in this moment.
“This has been the worst day of my entire life.” Oh, so you’re going to drop dead now?
“I have never been so insulted.” Wait, I’ll try better next time.
On the dark side …
Antoinette is not only my alter-ego, she is my best friend and partner. She came to me in my late twenties, when my little girl was but a babe, when life was still a promise yet fulfilled, when it seemed easier, simpler.
Now she prods and pokes at me, her laughter mocking my efforts to stretch my psyche across the page for your entertainment.
This month, when we reach the first day of fall, I will begin another decade in my life. The page will turn in the giant book and I will have a new blank space to fill.
Some choose not to turn the page, they defy the devil that is Father Time and summarily jump off the merry-go-round.
Some of those we have loved left us all too soon, but their light lingers, trails through the sky like the tail of a comet.
I loved Robin Williams. In a virtual sense as only fans can every love a performer. He spoke to something in all of us. He was one of the few who could make us laugh and cry at once.
I wish he had decided to stay and turn to the next page with me. But like the others in my actual family, his time here was done.
In Robin’s honor and to remember all those we have lost, I would like to share one of my most beloved poems by Emily Dickinson.
Ample Make This Bed
Ample make this bed.
Make this bed with awe;
In it wait till judgment break
Excellent and fair.
Be its mattress straight,
Be its pillow round;
Let no sunrise’ yellow noise
Interrupt this ground.
Where to go from here …
The next few months will be jam packed with my off-centered perception of this life we all live. As the planet continues to spin on its axis in the universe, as the sun continues to rise and fall, and as I find my way to another crossroad … I will reach out for your hand.
Hold on tight and we’ll have a jolly good time. Thanks for coming back.
Pray tell me readers, did you have a slammin’ good summer?
Any great plans for the new season?
fOIS In The City
Remember those that have gone before you. Keep them in your heart and they will have true immortality. RIP Robin