Dizzy Dies In Pink Silk Bloomers

Part 8 of 31

They Found Another Body

We all know death is out there, but it seems like there's a definite point in our lives when we consciously realize that, yes, we are going to die. "This robe of flesh I'll drop and rise..." It doesn't mean you have to dwell on it. Maybe a nodding acquaintance is enough, with each day (thump, thump, thump) being a day closer. And we’ve certainly heard enough people having premonitions and suddenly, [throat-cutting noise]. Sometimes your doctor just hasn't got enough time to search for a spleen donor.

Another thing that comes into play is how we interact with our fate. So, realizing and interacting, that’s the ticket. But how do we interact? We have the classic (negative) interaction in the young whippersnapper above. We’ll call him Dizzy. Even Dizzy’s workmate allows himself a quick look of disbelief at his tone. Note to self: “Please allow me to be ‘umble. Being ‘umble is always better. ‘Cause if you’re not ‘umble you’re in for a t'mble!” And I’m not talking a t'umble in bed with Minnie La Aha or Chesty La Morgan, the two extremes of varying sizes. But in the old grave, Old Sunken Acres Cemetery down in the valley.

OK, Dizzy has a whole vibe of taking things for granted, being vain in his assumptions and surmises, and a self-image ripe for a fall, the opposite of humility, being entirely thoughtless as to the ways Life can put the clamp on your privates and make you scream “Bloody Sister,” who had problems of her own. In this regard, it would be fatal for me to say ‘I’ve got it going on’ in this regard. Surely the skies would immediately open and a battalion of battle angels similar to what they saw on D-Day would rush upon me. And I’d be dead before I finished this post. That’d be a tragedy! I’d rather live at least till this is posted. Then if everyone hears I was subsequently vain about it, OK, sure, bring on the angels! But I will remain ‘umble.

What is Dizzy saying? He’s unconsciously summing up his life as he sits there. He’s worked for the firm long enough to be a recognized success. He’s been at it and blessed enough to be able to look back on a long career of success and now he's in the position to sum it up. If I were the other guy I would’ve thrown my dress over my head like Scrooge's maid. This man’s batty! I must get out of here! Then I would’ve counseled him, look for a good family-owned funeral home…

“I can afford to lean back…” Right there you know Fate’s cause of death. … “and having leaned back, smoke a $90 cigar…” Waste not, want not… “and luxuriate in these expensive pink silk panties.” I have no objection to that, what else are silk panties for but comfort and kink? But when he does… [O! the mountains are tumbling! the ocean's seething! the rest of me's surging! Judgment's in the air, we have a new body to find, as foolish Dizzy leans back and rubs his thigh (the silk panties were actually bloomers), and falls back, breaking his neck and crushing his head, legitimately dying a horrible, terrible, not so good death, and at breakneck speed.

Closing Out September

I'm closing out September with a few trifles. 30 days hath September, and today's the day it hath them!

I spent most of September on other projects -- note to self -- hence my lack of posts here.

It was actually one project, involving photography, and it's amazing how consuming it was for me. But it had a definite lifespan. I can't say I didn't see it coming, because I felt it coming as sure as anything.

Most things that I become extremely interested in like that have a lifespan. The arc is natural enough, starting with my first discovery, my first steps, a few tentative moves, then I become more interested. Soon I'm an old hand, showing what I have, in this case thinking I have a real eye for it, and I believe I do. Now I'm evaluating it, but only periodically, thinking occasionally of the vanity, yet persisting in ever new variations of participation. Midway through, I'm really able to produce, like the long distance runner. There's still enough avenues to run down, so I'm thinking I'm doing something useful, but the nagging in my mind is getting louder all the time: Why? I keep going, I double down on my efforts, I set goals and meet them, and soon I'm such an old hand it's like I've been doing it forever. I'm established, I'm even respected. But I start seeing the arc as an arc indeed and know that I'm getting toward the end. I make a resolution: I'll just be this interested in it, self limiting. Except I know that will never work. Because when I've pierced through to the full realization of the vanity -- knowing its true worthlessness -- I start casting about for something tried and true, something that does have value to me.

That is a funny paragraph, and every word is true!

The good news about a life pursuit like this is that I didn't make a large investment in it. I didn't make any commitments. There's nothing I have to be ashamed of. No one got hurt. And it was even kind of fun, while also serving as a cautionary tale to me about whatever my next consuming interest is, to look for the arc early on.