Blank Slate of Acknowledgement

Statistically, is a desirable or undesirable occurrence more likely to befall you if you head into interactions with the general public donning a grin, a grimace, or a neutral face?  It’s 50-50 on either, isn’t it?  An external or internal stimulus may or may not happen that will grant you amusement or irritation.  Thematically, it would depend on how prevalently irony plays a role in your daily life.

I aim for a neutral face as much as possible before I do things that put me at the mercy of other people’s decisions (and lack thereof).  I don’t want a stranger’s actions to ruin my day, but I absolutely welcome a different stranger’s choices in giving me a little bit hope for the species.  Part of the tone of engaging with the human condition is how other people demonstrate that they see you, as in, their brain and eyeballs have registered your existence as an object that takes up space.  There are instances where this awareness is crucial for everyone’s safety, there are other times when you want to pass through undetected, and there are still other circumstances when not only would it be beneficial for you if they took note of you but also determined that they could help you.

I was holding several bags and walked towards a door this afternoon when I heard a woman tell her husband that I might need help with the door.  I got it ajar and could have managed on my own, but he did hold it for me as I shimmied my way through the threshold.  I thanked him.

I didn’t know the woman was talking about me when I heard her say his name, which sounds like half of my name, so I had to tell myself, “She doesn’t mean you.”  But in fact, she did mean me in a different manner.  She acknowledged my existence in the most mundane context, one in which I believe myself to be invisible most of the time.  I’ve carried more bags and in more visible need of assistance getting a door open in the past, and none of those observers batted an eyelash.

I’ll take more of these moments of being noticed.

The Kansas City Chiefs edge out the Philadelphia Eagles in Super Bowl LVII

The team of ketchup and mustard colors and the team of shredded zucchini skins went at it today for a chance to get their hands on victory at Super Bowl LVII.  Truthfully, I was bored until the fourth quarter when the Eagles made a touchdown and the two-point conversion tied them 35 to 35.  Not long after that moment, a holding penalty on the Eagles made it that much simpler for the Chiefs to win…with a field goal.  38 to 35.  Final score.

Get game summary, stats, and play-by-play here.

I’ve watched more football during the last few months than I have in the last few years combined.  It restored some kind of “normalcy” in the perception of days going by, and what it means to have a weekend not feel like two more Fridays.  And yet, in this pause between breaths, that anchor crumbles.  I feel unmoored again.

Will I be watching some other televised team sport until autumn?  Je ne pense pas.

A Penny Dreadful for your thoughts

I’ve been rewatching the TV series Penny Dreadful (John Logan, 2014-2016) these last few days.  I’m on season two episode two, and this conversation caught my overthinking mind.

John Clare: The glory of life surmounts the fear of death. Good Christians fear hellfire…so to avoid it, they are kind to their fellow man. Good pagans do not have this fear…so they can be who they are.  Good or ill as their nature dictates.  We have no fear of God…so we are accountable to no one but each other.

Vanessa Ives: That’s a profound responsibility…Do you truly not believe in Heaven?
John Clare: I believe in this world and those creatures that fill it.  That’s always been enough for me. Look around you.  Sacred mysteries at every turn.

Vanessa Ives: But no exaltation in life beyond this?

John Clare: To see a world in a grain of sand/And a heaven in a wild flower/Hold infinity in the palm of your hand/And eternity in an hour.

Vanessa Ives: With respect to Blake…I see no wild flowers here.  Only pain and suffering.

John Clare: Then you need to look closer.

Hold My Intoxicated Tears

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

“I agree completely, Officer Limon.”

“Did you hear that, Coach Hanley?  This is the third time in almost two weeks I’ve had to call your secretary to come get you.”

Coach Hanley nodded slowly, his body curved into the back of the patrol car.  “She’s not my secretary.  She’s not my secretary.  She’s not a secretary.”

“What he means, officer, is that I’m not his dedicated miscellaneous task master, but I was the only one that you could get a hold of…again.”

Officer Limon shifted his weight to his left leg, put his hands on his hips, and sighed aloud before groaning like a pomeranian that isn’t going to obey its owner’s commands.

Coach Hanley wheezed, coughed, and began to whimper.  His shoulders trembled.  “I can’t choose, don’t make me choose.”

“Nobody is making you take sides, coach, but you can’t have three starting cornerbacks.”

“But you don’t understand, I cannot choose between them.  Stevens is the smart one; Culler moves so fast; and Petey is so good at following directions.”

“Officer Limon, would it be okay if we moved him inside my car?  This way, you won’t have to listen to him go on and on about roster decisions.  I mean, I’m sure you have better things to do at 10:50 on a Thursday night.”

“I suppose I could, but are you sure he’s not going to get combative?”

“Remember the last time I had to come fetch him?  He was much louder then, and I took care of him.  I just need your help moving him…unless you want to call the defense coordinator to come help me.”

Officer Limon decided the easiest course of action would be to lend his upper body strength in relocating Coach Hanley from the back of the patrol car and into the sky blue SUV parked in a nearby parking space.

“Thank you, officer.  The head coach will be most grateful for your understanding.”

“No problem.”

“Actually, I am curious… any other civilian in his situation would be arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct, I’m sure, but you never took Coach Hanley back to the precinct?  Why?  You didn’t even cuff him this time.”

Officer Limon cupped the back of his neck with his right hand, angled his head, and with his left hand on his hip, said, “He reminds me of my dad.  He never really talked to me if he wasn’t in this state of intoxication.”

“Probably four beers, some whiskey, and not enough food to go with it?”

Officer Limon chuckled, “Yeah, and not enough water.”

“I do mean it when I say that I hope we never see each other again under similar circumstances.”

“I agree completely, non-secretary.”

~!~

This fictitious conversation came to me when I was washing my feet.  What inspired it you might wonder?  Upon picking up some Thai food takeout earlier today, I saw a construction worker walking along the edge of an elevated platform.  He was wearing sunglasses.  Something about his movements made me think of a woman not wanting to choose between two lovers, one who’s very effective at intellectual stimulation and another who excels at making problems disappear.  How this premise turned into what I ended up writing is beyond me.

Original pic cred: Pratik Gupta/graylab, unsplash