I think I've figured out why old people drive so slow. And walk slow, for that matter. I was driving down 95 last night. It was raining and everyone knows that Mustangs suck in the rain. Must’ve been doing around 65 mph and the back end of the car veered a bit to the left. I easily compensated for the skid because I’ve come to expect it, but it got me to thinking about how close we all are to death. Of course, older people are closer to that thin division between life and death. That milky membrane that separates this world with the next. They’re nearer to it so they can see it more clearly. And, baby, they don’t like what they see. The point is, and I do have one, this is why they’re more cautious. This is why they drive so damn slow. They’re not happy with the images from the other side. And, if we were smart, we’d heed that warning. We may not be able to see across that line just yet, but we should listen to those who can.
So, THAT’s why that big ass Buick is doing 25 mph on the parkway. THAT’s why the 131 year old woman is shuffling along in the supermarket, blocking your way to the canned peas. They’re cautious because they’re mortified with what lies beyond that boundary. Their fear should be a lesson to us all.
They should still get out of the fucking left lane.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Froggies
Dear Daniel:
So I’m out skimming the pool yesterday after work. Lately, little baby frogs by the boat load have been jumping into the pool. I don’t know where they’re coming from or who told them that we’re open for business but we’ve had a sudden influx of them. It’s very sad because they jump in without the slightest idea of how to jump out. Or perhaps they all get together and decide to conduct a mass suicide, I just don’t know. Every afternoon I find them all floating, face up, dead, like only frogs can be...with their little feet pointing skyward looking for the great giant frog in the sky. Yesterday, there were six of them, drowned and pale...but...alas, there was one little tiny baby hanging onto the shallow end rope, very much alive. I could hardly believe my eyes...there he was holding on for dear life, surrounded by his dead buddies...his tiny little feet wrapped around the rope. I have no idea how long he was holding on but judging by the death all around him, it was a long time. I got the net and tried to fish him out. At first, he fought me...would not tear his claws away from the rope. But, I spoke softly to him (I actually did) and prodded him into the net. I shook the net out over the grass and damned if he didn’t hop right off. It was a beautiful moment. I saved his little, slimy life. And the moral of the story? No matter how small and ugly you may be, if you hang on long enough...someone may just throw you a life line. The end.
So I’m out skimming the pool yesterday after work. Lately, little baby frogs by the boat load have been jumping into the pool. I don’t know where they’re coming from or who told them that we’re open for business but we’ve had a sudden influx of them. It’s very sad because they jump in without the slightest idea of how to jump out. Or perhaps they all get together and decide to conduct a mass suicide, I just don’t know. Every afternoon I find them all floating, face up, dead, like only frogs can be...with their little feet pointing skyward looking for the great giant frog in the sky. Yesterday, there were six of them, drowned and pale...but...alas, there was one little tiny baby hanging onto the shallow end rope, very much alive. I could hardly believe my eyes...there he was holding on for dear life, surrounded by his dead buddies...his tiny little feet wrapped around the rope. I have no idea how long he was holding on but judging by the death all around him, it was a long time. I got the net and tried to fish him out. At first, he fought me...would not tear his claws away from the rope. But, I spoke softly to him (I actually did) and prodded him into the net. I shook the net out over the grass and damned if he didn’t hop right off. It was a beautiful moment. I saved his little, slimy life. And the moral of the story? No matter how small and ugly you may be, if you hang on long enough...someone may just throw you a life line. The end.
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