tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3020960402708303830.post8093405386921998570..comments2024-03-28T14:53:38.827-04:00Comments on BLCKDGRD: I Would Call My Friends on Other Devices, or: Born 102 Years Ago TodayUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3020960402708303830.post-91099022978703838022015-12-15T14:09:35.580-05:002015-12-15T14:09:35.580-05:00Been many years since I'd read her work. Thank...Been many years since I'd read her work. Thanks for this.Mongo, At The Momenthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00973606827337262084noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3020960402708303830.post-34427504091391936272015-12-15T13:10:30.808-05:002015-12-15T13:10:30.808-05:00rukeyser wrote
the world is a sign, a way of spe...rukeyser wrote <br /><br /><i>the world is a sign, a way of speaking</i><br /><br />i was reminded that a week ago our friend mongo, at the moment, posted at his blog the following by james tate<br /><br />Behind The Green Door<br /><br />Thaddeus had said he wanted to get together, but,<br />then, when we met in town, he didn’t seem to have anything<br />on his mind. “I’d like to get myself one of those remote-<br />controlled airplanes, and chase pigeons in the park,” he<br />said. “That will show them who’s boss,” I said. “Of course,<br />some people might think I’m a little old for that,” he said.<br />“For terrorizing innocent birds? You’re never too old for<br />that, Thad,” I said. We sipped at our beers. It was still<br />before noon, and Mary’s was almost empty, except for an elderly<br />couple at the bar drinking martinis. “They’re pretty expensive,”<br />Thad said. “Martinis?” I said. “No, stupid, remote-controlled<br />airplanes,” he said. “Think of it as an investment in your<br />lost childhood,” I said. He thought that over for a while.<br />The couple at the bar toasted one another, and laughed. The<br />bartender brought us another round. It was a Saturday, and<br />I had many errands and chores on my list. “You know all about<br />my ‘lost childhood,’ so I don’t need to remind you,” he said.<br />“I can recite what you got and what you didn’t get for all<br />your birthdays,” I said. “Then, why do you put up with me?”<br />he said. “I need to suffer, Thaddeus. It makes me a better<br />person. So, you see, indulging you is completely selfish<br />on my part. It doesn’t make any sense, but that’s how the<br />world is, and that’s why some great good may come out of<br />making those birds suffer. I don’t know what it is, but something<br />tells me it’s so,” I said. The woman at the bar was tickling<br />the man’s ribs, and he was about to fall off his stool. “Then,<br />you think there really is a plan?” Thad said. “Absolutely,<br />right down to the last drop of beer spilled on this floor<br />every night, to the ant you killed walking out your door,<br />and the plane crash in the Andes,” I said. Thaddeus seemed<br />stunned, while I was saying anything that came into my<br />head. I took it as my jobjust to give him something to think<br />about. The couple at the bar ordered another round. Then,<br />Thaddeus said, “If that’s true, then I’ve never really done<br />anything wrong. I had no choice, I’m off the hook.” I looked<br />at my watch. We were right on schedule for that conclusion.<br />“And soon the earth will open up, and a ten-thousand-year-old<br />giant squid will strangle us all,” I said. “I’m hungry,” Thaddeus<br />said, “do you want to get some lunch? There’s a new place<br />across the street.” “That’s not new. They just painted the<br />door a different color. The owner, Herb, had a midlife crisis<br />or something,” I said. “Well, then, it’s sort of new, I mean,<br />you don’t know what you’re going to get after something like<br />that,” he said. “I see your point. I suppose it could get<br />kind of ugly. Or maybe not. It could be better than ever.<br />Still, I have these errands,” I said. “You’re afraid to lose<br />even an hour, George, afraid what you might find in its place,<br />something truly unknown, without a name, no visible shape.<br />There’s nothing wrong with that, George. You know I’ve always<br />admired you, so go on your way, get your dishwashing detergent<br />or whatever it is. I’m going to find out what’s behind that green<br />door,” Thaddeus said. “No doubt there will be an ambrosia burger,”<br />I said, “and you’ll order one.” “I will have no choice,” he<br />said. When we stepped outside, the sunlight blinded me. “Good-bye, Thaddeus,” I said, “wherever you are.” A dog barked, and, then, a siren sped by. I couldn’t see my own hand in front of my face.<br /><br />-- From "Ghost Soldiers" (2008)<br />mistah charley, ph.d.https://www.blogger.com/profile/06303695341246058680noreply@blogger.com