I’m unpacked. I’m showered. My stuff is put away. I’m in the Blue Room. Blue fern papered walls. A generous single bed – is it a TWIN? does that MEAN something? – with a chenille bedspread, white flowers proud of the pale blue background. I can hear a man’s voice, across the hall or downstairs, […]
Tag Archives: Django
Awkward
When I first saw her, she was talking to Dave and our host. I walked over and said, “You look so familiar.” “You look familiar, too,” said she. I love that moment when two people recognize each other without knowing quite how. It could be past lives or high school or almost anything. It’s so […]
Herding cats
Sometimes I look at people who listen to vinyl and I’m jealous. I roll my eyes when they brag about the preciousness of the pops and the balancing of the needle and quality of the sound, but I’m jealous. They have a machine that does just one thing, plays records. Meanwhile, a friend is worried […]
Saturdayish
Dave is talking to himself as he practices. “Oh, Dave.” Then he plays some more, then “No…no.” It sounds strangely detached, like he’s not surprised, just disappointed. Django is in her bed. Her new portrait is on the mantel. We picked it up at the memorial service for Fern today, because the artist drove in […]
Buspocalypse
Django and I were walking back from River Park. We’d crossed Lawrence just east of the river, and were walking west over the bridge. There, just west of Manor, I saw a familiar vision: The Lawrence bus trundling east and a would-be rider stood at the corner, attempting to flag it down. Technically it’s not […]
Business as usual
“This street is dead,” I heard some boy shout last night, when we’d turned off the porch light and shut the shades and hung a sign saying, “Out of Candy.” I’d contemplated writing, “Sorry, Out of Candy,” but reasoned that we’d bought plenty and I didn’t owe anyone an apology. But also I didn’t want to get egged. I […]
Capture the pee
“The real problem is that the glove is too small,” said Dave. It was his third attempt to capture pee from the foster dog we are calling Fredo. It was 11:30 pm. We were on a late night walk and Django was on full bunny alert. Meanwhile, Fredo was peeing on various things but never […]
Coming back
When we got back from vacation I realized Django is old. I’m afraid to say that because I don’t want to look like I’m projecting. I can’t help it. I’m turning 50 and she’s turning 12. I didn’t plan it that way, it’s just what happened. So coming back and hearing that all the warnings […]
Today’s projections
I don’t think Django likes people parking out front and then walking to the train. Something about the way they shut their doors. A big slam though it’s early morning. But for them it’s halfway through the journey, it’s been morning for hours. They pull in quickly, slam the door, and walk briskly away, street […]
How to become the Weird People
In the play we’re doing for the Citizen’s Play Festival, there’s a cage, a dog crate large enough for an actor playing a 12-year-old boy. At first I assumed we wouldn’t use a real cage. After all, it’s just a staged reading. Even in a full production, a real cage would probably be too literal. […]