Desultory thoughts: Bye Bye Birdie Edition
I’ve had a hankering and a crankering to get back at long last to my creative pursuits. I dropped them before Dad died so it’s been quite a while. I am in a strange intermediary funked out yet calm space right now and I welcome it. There is a transition underway. Dusted off the screenplay. Started reading weird and challenging shit again. More than just my shallow entertainment gossip blogs (which I will never totally give up but will frequently supplement and/or temporarily replace with more ambitious reading when I am in the right mindspace).
The severity of my allergies this year cannot be overstated. In the words of my dearly departed character of a Great Aunt Marion … “Jeepers.” The runny nose. The congestion. The clogged ears and head. The itchy throat and eyes. I look a mess and have for about a week now. Doc gave me an antibiotic today and told me to lay off the D’s because they have small doses of speed in them: Sudafed, Claratin D, Mucinex D. I won’t listen tho. That shit works. Clears out the mess. But it does keep me up at night so I guess she’s right.
Rufus killed a little birdie today. I feel responsible in the way that parents feel responsible for their children’s bad behavior. Except Rufus is an animal acting on instinct – not a human being that I enculturated him to be. What I am saying is it’s ridiculous to 1) treat an animal like a child and 2) ascribe human behaviors and expectations to animals. Yes, I know but I feel badly.
He always chases birdies … it’s the Jack Russell in him (as far as I know from the adoption papers he’s 1/2 Jack Russell and 1/2 pug). And today there was more slack on the leash than I thought. He chased two three little birdies into a corner. Two flew away and one … well Rufie made a lunge at the little dude, caught him. I yelled and yanked him and it fell out of his mouth. It quivered for a bit there on the sidewalk. I kept walking Rufie hoping it would flip over and fly off. I saw its two friends come back and check on it. But by the time we made it back around the block, it had expired.
I felt guilty! Had I watched Rufie more carefully he’d not have had that opportunity to wreak havoc … and death. I was reminded of the time back on Cherry Place when my brothers and I intervened in a killing … our cat Finn destroying a chipmunk. The thing was half eaten when we intercepted it and chased Finn off. Finn must have been like, “What the fuck?! Why you have to mess with my game?!” And the chimpmunk must have been like, “Shit get on with it already. What part of untethered veins makes you hopeful for my survival? ” The creature’s death was inevitably longer and more miserable than it would have been otherwise. Kenny kids to the rescue!
In other news … I am headed to Colorado for the long weekend. Just cause. I want some real fresh air. Mountains. Space. To be somewhere I’ve never been. Can’t wait.