When we were in Greenland last month, Michelle bought me a t-shirt at the tiny (and only) gift shop there. For the first time, I wore this shirt today as I flip-flopped through the post office parking lot nervously eyeing geezer-mobiles.
Once I entered the building one might have thought that a rock star had taken the stage. As soon as I got in the line, people started looking at me and an amazement bordering on awe swept across their faces. Why? Well, I suppose the t-shirt had a little to do with it. The shirt is black with a starkly white polar bear looking right at you, as if curious, not hungry. "Greenland," says the shirt simply. I know it is pretty, but really? People stopped what they were doing to ask me questions about Greenland, ice bergs and polar bears. Wow. I’m a bit shocked. Been in the line dozens of times and nothing like this. Folks, I find, really don’t need much excuse to open right up and get friendly.
Speaking of Travel--Dreamed of India last night. Not just dreamed, but vividly dreamed, as in it seemed real. Michelle and I were traipsing around a spice market in some village and I was just overcome with the colors and scents. I was given a drink of water from a heavy round orb of clear crystal. I thought, “Hey, this is India . . . I might catch something pretty nasty here!” But since I didn’t want to offend the natives I gulped the water down any way. Someone was taking pictures of Michelle and me, but mostly of Michelle. They lined up the dozen or so photos and sat them on a low wall. They were the most elaborate and beautiful I had ever seen. When the man told me how much they were, I reflexively shook my noggin, “No, too much.” Then I reasoned, “Wait a minute. . . . He wants ten million rupees for these images? That comes to a little less than one dollar US. I’ll buy them all.” And I did. There is much more I might add but as dull as the above is the rest gets even duller the deeper I go and so I will cease here and now and desist.
Repellent--Some folks just can’t conceive that they were put on this earth simply to eat, sleep, consume, belch, become taxpayers or meth addicts, then die quietly and unnoticed as if they had never been born at all. For reasons known only to ourselves, I think we all want to be remembered for something significant after we pass. Unfortunately, the weaker, more desperate minds among us want to be remembered so badly that they are willing to do anything, even disgusting things. Enter the revolting stunt monkey, one Ed Archbold.
Over on the wrong side of the state, down by Miami, 32-year-old Ed was celebrating another great feat for which he hoped to be remembered forever by. Ed had just bolted down more than anyone else in one of those stuff-your-gut contests and he was about to walk away with first prize—a pet python. What did Ed throw down to win such a wonderful and precious prize? Hot Dogs? Coconut cream pies? Eggs? Nope. This marvelous man gobbled up no less than 30 worms, 30 roaches and 30 millipedes. Ed had little time to exult in his amazing victory or ponder posterity, however, for almost the moment he exited the building (a reptile store, fittingly), he dropped dead on the spot! My first, second and final thought upon reading this, was/is “Good, there is a just God after all.” Anyone who is so disgusting as to do something like that is no longer fit to live.
Now, wanna guess what the topic of conversation will be at Ed’s funeral? Other than the good folks at Ripley’s, who could care a dime or a hocked-up goober about this chunk of walking waste matter? Just dump his useless body in a canal and let the gators have him, then hope like hell he has no children to suffer in shame and that his poor parents have already passed on.
Good news? That this wretch is not taking up any more space on this crowded planet. The bad news? That the other contestants did not drop dead too. I suppose that it would have been much more appropriate if instead of going out from a gastronomic attack, Ed had instead taken his grand prize home and himself been swallowed whole. Nevertheless, let’s still file this obscenity under “Fitting Ways to Die, #692” and move on to thoughts less disgusting.
Under the Microscope--Carpet Mite