michael heany
11-01-2004, 09:33 AM
(Every six months or so I end up writing a little prose piece that must say something about what I am in my life. If anybody wants to analyze this one, please go ahead...)
He walks around/through a couple of cafe/bookstores, half picks up a few books, squints a few times for no apparent reason; he even yawns a few times just to remind himself he's not entirely awake. He plucks at his eyebrows, and this reminds him of that time in college when he actually pulled out a large section of his eyebrow hair because he had become convinced his brows were too "bushy". And then this reminds him of the the time in college he once tried to smoke marijuana and the flame singed one of his eyebrows: he actually burned some of his eyebrow hair! He's not sure how this could have happened, but is reasonably sure that it did.
This gets him to thinking more about college. Calvin Collidge also, and his reputation for having coined the word "normalcy", or at least made it popular. For a while Calvin was mocked for this neologism. But it looks now like C.C. has the last laugh, doesn't he? Well, maybe not the LAST laugh, but one of the last, because "normalcy" is in the dictionary, and people don't laugh at you when you use it. Well, they don't laugh at ME (at least not to my face anyway).
But how did I get involved in this? We were talking about him. He starts to think about sugar and salt, and tries to imagine which he would choose if he had to, all other things being equal (whatever that means). Sugar is so good on certain things, in certain prepackaged foods for that matter. Ditto salt. They are really so similar, except for that small, strange issue of taste. But then he remembers (and there's an image of a man slapping his forehead in the shock of the obvious) that he doesn't HAVE to choose.
So he goes to the porno store. Lots of titles, it's really difficult to choose, and the stern look of judiciousness he must be showing gets harder and harder to maintain as the moments pass. He even starts to rub his chin, flex his lower jaw. At the appointed moment, and strangely enough, he sees a title called "Sugar and Salt" (wedged between two unmentionables). He takes this as a sign to go ahead and select.
It turns out to abe a parable (or is it an allegory? Certainly not an adage?) about two characters, one named Sugar (the woman) and Salt (the man). These two have lots of sex and other characters end up having sex, too. There's a raunchiness here that certainly qualifies as "porno", but also an unusual sweetness that he finds hard to place. A sense of humor that's almost literary, and not of the basic, wooden, garden variety found in the run-of-the-mill video. And (it's here that he gets a vague sense of embarrasment) a touch of tenderness, too.
He feels refreshed. He has a piano, and he goes out and starts to play it. He has a cat, and it sits on top, one eye one-eighth open. Strange, this cat was in his dream last night. It came from on high, seated in some kind of chair, a crown on its head and a can of cat food at its foot. It also had a scepter. And it sat there for a very long time it seemed. And then it actually spoke. It said this...
"From now on call me Lazy Paws. Lazy Paws. Lazy Paws..."
He sat at the piano improvising, watching the cat watch him. "Lazy paws," he half said, half sang.
And the cat closed its eye.
He walks around/through a couple of cafe/bookstores, half picks up a few books, squints a few times for no apparent reason; he even yawns a few times just to remind himself he's not entirely awake. He plucks at his eyebrows, and this reminds him of that time in college when he actually pulled out a large section of his eyebrow hair because he had become convinced his brows were too "bushy". And then this reminds him of the the time in college he once tried to smoke marijuana and the flame singed one of his eyebrows: he actually burned some of his eyebrow hair! He's not sure how this could have happened, but is reasonably sure that it did.
This gets him to thinking more about college. Calvin Collidge also, and his reputation for having coined the word "normalcy", or at least made it popular. For a while Calvin was mocked for this neologism. But it looks now like C.C. has the last laugh, doesn't he? Well, maybe not the LAST laugh, but one of the last, because "normalcy" is in the dictionary, and people don't laugh at you when you use it. Well, they don't laugh at ME (at least not to my face anyway).
But how did I get involved in this? We were talking about him. He starts to think about sugar and salt, and tries to imagine which he would choose if he had to, all other things being equal (whatever that means). Sugar is so good on certain things, in certain prepackaged foods for that matter. Ditto salt. They are really so similar, except for that small, strange issue of taste. But then he remembers (and there's an image of a man slapping his forehead in the shock of the obvious) that he doesn't HAVE to choose.
So he goes to the porno store. Lots of titles, it's really difficult to choose, and the stern look of judiciousness he must be showing gets harder and harder to maintain as the moments pass. He even starts to rub his chin, flex his lower jaw. At the appointed moment, and strangely enough, he sees a title called "Sugar and Salt" (wedged between two unmentionables). He takes this as a sign to go ahead and select.
It turns out to abe a parable (or is it an allegory? Certainly not an adage?) about two characters, one named Sugar (the woman) and Salt (the man). These two have lots of sex and other characters end up having sex, too. There's a raunchiness here that certainly qualifies as "porno", but also an unusual sweetness that he finds hard to place. A sense of humor that's almost literary, and not of the basic, wooden, garden variety found in the run-of-the-mill video. And (it's here that he gets a vague sense of embarrasment) a touch of tenderness, too.
He feels refreshed. He has a piano, and he goes out and starts to play it. He has a cat, and it sits on top, one eye one-eighth open. Strange, this cat was in his dream last night. It came from on high, seated in some kind of chair, a crown on its head and a can of cat food at its foot. It also had a scepter. And it sat there for a very long time it seemed. And then it actually spoke. It said this...
"From now on call me Lazy Paws. Lazy Paws. Lazy Paws..."
He sat at the piano improvising, watching the cat watch him. "Lazy paws," he half said, half sang.
And the cat closed its eye.