Skip to main content

My Not-So-Superficial Goal for Today

On the way to school this morning, as I had to brake to let the guy-with-the comb-stuck-in-his-hair-although-this-morning-he-was-wearing-a-ball-cap-so-I-couldn't-tell cross the street, #2 looked at the two dogs following him and asked, "If his house was a cartoon, I wonder what the dogs would be like. Would they be cute little happy puppies, or would they be like some of the dogs in All Dogs Go to Heaven?"

Hmm. I remember some of those dogs. They were straight from the junk yard--survivor dogs that you just knew had fleas and warts and matted fur--nothing you'd ever want to pet. #2 knows all about those dogs from the junk yard. When she was in 2nd grade, we all traveled to Brazil with Husband's parents--my father-in-law was from Brazil, and he served as interpreter as we went from city to city to visit his brothers and sisters. While at the house of one sister, an unusual woman who had turned her entire house into a stray animal shelter, we were placed face to face with the largest, broadest, brute force Doberman. He had been abandoned by his junk yard owner, and Aunt Eva gave him sanctuary. His gigantic head was nose to nose with #2 when father-in-law, never one to respect an animal, startled him. He opened his gaping incisor-filled mouth and barked, parting #2's hair down the middle and causing her to jump up on a chair and scream. I stood between them, sure the thing would gut me with those choppers. But then Aunt Eva came to our rescue, and calmed the beast.

I'm off track here, because my point is not the monster dog, it's seeing the world as cartoon.

It is my goal for today to see the people I come across as cartoons--this may seem surface, superficial, silly, a complete waste of time and energy to most, but I believe I will discover insight and a little needed comic relief.

I will see the characters at my favorite place for joe as the crusty critics from The Muppet Show. I will see my mopey friend who won't return my calls as Eyore (not sure how to spell his name--you know, the donkey from Winnie the Pooh). I will look for my favorites all over town.

I always thought my Dad was the inspiration for Pa in The Hillbillie Bears--he shuffled around and mumbled--you could only understand every fifth word--"shoot", usually.

So, I'm off--to find my cartoon world and see what I can see.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Am I Stupid, or What?

In two weeks, I will climb up into a charter bus, take my assigned seat, and ride 22 hours straight to Orlando, Florida. I will be a chaperon with the high school marching band, which will perform at Disney's Magic Kingdom--me and 180 people on four big buses for seven days. We will travel together, eat together, play together, fall down exhausted together--and after 22 hours, I suspect stink to high heaven together. Because of the crazy schedule, we will leave Ohio at 6 pm, travel all night and most of the next day, and spend several hours at MGM Studios before ending up at the hotel sometime after 7 pm. After I check in with the eight girls I am to supervise, I intend to shower and shower and shower. I intend to wear clean clothes and socks and brush my teeth until my toothbrush wears out. Of all the things I could be concerned about on this trip, being dirty seems to weigh heaviest on my mind. One of my eight charges could run off and do bad things with her boyfriend, but I'...

No More Mr. Nice Guy

It's good to be a nice person--to say nice things, to do nice things, to write nice things--but I declare an end to the use of the word nice. Nice is what you say when you can't think of any other adjective. Someone shows you a picture of their back yard--that's nice. Someone tells you about their afternoon adventure--that's nice. Or someone describes their childhood in great detail and sometimes with painstaking effort--that's nice. It's a lazy word, and it's non-descriptive. Nice is like mashed potatoes with noodles and chicken gravy all in a big pile on one plate with some canned corn for garnish. Everything is the same color and texture and base substance--starch (this is a favorite Amish dish). Nice is like a partly cloudy day in April when outside feels like inside, and you can't tell a difference between the lighting and the temperature of your living room and the lighting and temperature of your front yard. Nice is a glass of lukewarm water. ...

An Offending Pile

So, I'm standing in my living room letting my mind wander for a minute or two as I stare out the window and watch the day go by, and I see my neighbors walking their dogs down the street. They are nice neighbors who are always friendly and responsible with their property. That is to say they aren't like the other neighbors who heap rubbish behind their house like Ma and Pa Kettle and let their dogs bark for thirty minutes at a time . Anyway, I see the nice people walking their dogs, a big golden retriever who is as sweet as can be and as dumb as a post—he once ate a sock and nearly died before it was surgically removed—and a new golden retriever puppy. Then I see Neighbor Wife suddenly run down the street with the big dog. Then I see Neighbor Husband stopped in front of my house with the puppy on its leash. And then I see the puppy taking a huge dump in my grass. Let me tell you, that is not done in this town unless the dog owner has a plastic bag handy and is ready to pick up ...