Skip n flip
The alarm on my blue digital wrist watch only has to beep twice before I turn it off. I have been awake for a while listening to the various machines sculpting nature and quietly marveling how hot it already is. The weed wacker waits at the foot of my t-house. This day begins with me pulling the chord to start the engine. The next hour goes by in a blur of noise, ripping weeds and a cloud of green bits. The mechanism, which feeds out the green plastic chord seems to be jamming and this is the note that I end my short foray.
While walking down the dirt road that runs by the yoga studio, on my way to return the weed wacker, I see skip just ahead, rake in hand, he grooms the hill, sweeps along the road masking fury with a flourish and a cloud of dust.
“Clearing the side of the barranca is going to be a bitch, it’s really steep.”
Skip slides into my personal space and says: “I thought your were supposed to be sporting. You do all that surfing heh heh heh”
“Actually, I have been weed wacking more than surfing.”
“Well that’s good.”
Somehow the words between us twist, morph escalate until we are both yelling, some of this due to the various machine noises and some of this due to anger issues.
“You come here complaining. You need to get in touch with the land! I’ve been watching you for 8 years and you have shown that you do not want to know the land.”
“Skip, your crazy, who do you think you are? Don’t try to jam your bad mood into my skull. Why don’t you get to know your own head. You aint gonna find it in drink. You aint gonna find it in smoke.”
“You don’t know how to listen!”
“No Skip, it is you that doesn’t know how to listen. Everything you are saying to me is showing that you never heard what I said in the first place. You were angry before you saw me.”
“You need to get your own weed wacker and get to know it.”
“The truth is, I really don’t want to weed wack. I just fill in here and there when Bill asks.”
I leave Skip, crouched on the hill with his rake continuing the debate without me. He can keep this one going all by himself. I leave picturing him like a giant hot air ghost balloon, he finds some one to spark his limbic system, which fires the balloon and there he floats, above the landscape complaining about all the lazy humans. Up, up and awayyy in his horrible and beautiful balloooon.
While walking down the dirt road that runs by the yoga studio, on my way to return the weed wacker, I see skip just ahead, rake in hand, he grooms the hill, sweeps along the road masking fury with a flourish and a cloud of dust.
“Clearing the side of the barranca is going to be a bitch, it’s really steep.”
Skip slides into my personal space and says: “I thought your were supposed to be sporting. You do all that surfing heh heh heh”
“Actually, I have been weed wacking more than surfing.”
“Well that’s good.”
Somehow the words between us twist, morph escalate until we are both yelling, some of this due to the various machine noises and some of this due to anger issues.
“You come here complaining. You need to get in touch with the land! I’ve been watching you for 8 years and you have shown that you do not want to know the land.”
“Skip, your crazy, who do you think you are? Don’t try to jam your bad mood into my skull. Why don’t you get to know your own head. You aint gonna find it in drink. You aint gonna find it in smoke.”
“You don’t know how to listen!”
“No Skip, it is you that doesn’t know how to listen. Everything you are saying to me is showing that you never heard what I said in the first place. You were angry before you saw me.”
“You need to get your own weed wacker and get to know it.”
“The truth is, I really don’t want to weed wack. I just fill in here and there when Bill asks.”
I leave Skip, crouched on the hill with his rake continuing the debate without me. He can keep this one going all by himself. I leave picturing him like a giant hot air ghost balloon, he finds some one to spark his limbic system, which fires the balloon and there he floats, above the landscape complaining about all the lazy humans. Up, up and awayyy in his horrible and beautiful balloooon.
posted by Dij at 3:33 PM
0 waves:
Post a Comment
<< Home