Willie’s Column: In the shade of a dream
What a day. Little girl was prepared because she woke up with curls while I had just come from a dream of whispering guinea pigs, murmuring epithets like I love you and it is what it is. I opened the sliding door to let the dogs out and the new one ran into the screen door and broke it, causing me to have a sit down and a heart to heart about seeing what isn’t there.
It was a warm, sunny spring day and the neighbor across the street was tending to her garden. Jasmeen has a nice garden while we have lousy grass and dirt. My yard was ripped up by the plumber who broke the water main while fixing another pipe. My wife’s flowers were like lost puppies in the flood. I told the neighbor our plan to forego the lawn and just plant flowers. Jasmeen said she was pleased and agreed with my wife, that the three evergreen treelings covering my porch would have to go, though I preferred the shade.
I took that under consideration and walked to the village office to listen to the tapes of the meeting the night before. Because this is America, I was granted my request, with smiles and friendliness, and proceeded to the court room to dig out a story.
Instead of falling asleep, like the clerk had warned, I discovered the public hearing regarding the College District proposal. Neighbors in that area had some concerns about what the college was going to be allowed to do in this new ‘district.’ Like I always say about my house, the neighbors have to look at it; and sometimes they can see what isn’t there.
Face Book is a social peep show, clingy and creepy and cloying. So I joined. It feels like posting on my website in the nude. Without knowing what I was doing, I somehow got myself 16 friends. That means 16 people that I know were on that site at the same time I stumbled upon it. For those of you who don’t know how this goes, now I can watch as those 16 people chat to their friends. Suddenly some of their friends want to be friends with me. I find myself online chatting with people I haven’t spoken to in decades and they don’t even know if I’m naked or not.
After school, little girl wants to know if I could still see her curls. Then, could she go out to the porch to see what the ups man brought; she doesn’t say U-P-S, she says ups. It was my book. The ups man had delivered my book, my proof copy. I tore open the bubble-wrapped envelope like Crusoe on a fish. There it was - five and a quarter by eight and a half - inside a glossy paperback cover - 275 pages, my baby, my seed, my anti-cyber, guts and all.
I could say I blew my top, shouted with glee, spun circles in the air and almost peed my pants, but in actuality I merely placed it down amid other periodicals and continued work on my next upcoming volume of verse and worse.
I got gas and picked up the wife at work, brought her home to pick up big girl for ballet, dropped wife at chiropractor, delivered the ballerina, shopped for dinner and got wife from chiropractor. The phone rang; it was another neighbor. Mackenzie wanted to know if we wanted her brother to pull out our three evergreens with his truck. She must’ve been chatting with Jasmeen. Before my wife finished nodding her head, the trees were gone. Thank you Tim and thank you neighbors; I’ve had teeth that took longer to yank.
Now we have lousy grass, dirt and more dirt. The three small trees were dragged to the curb and the sidewalk had to be swept. Sometimes things have to get worse before they get better, but it’s the neighbors who really have to look at it.
Mariano gave up back to back homers for the first time in his career and before I could fully wonder how to get rid of the shrubbish, a village worker came and scooped it away.
Now the sun shines brightly on our front porch for the entire world to see. It’s not that I’m typing naked or anything, but there’s still time for me to bury my book in one of those holes from where the shade used to spring. There I am, kneeling in the dirt above the hole whispering I love you and it is what it is, trying to see what isn’t there, with my first book in my hands.
