|
I went to class a few weeks ago, carrying not only my laptop bag but also a reusable grocery bag full of books that wouldn't fit in my laptop bag. I was wearing olive khakis, a dark blue long sleeve shirt, and an olive coat. As I walked, I meditated on my recent purchase of a large HEPA filter, intended to facilitate computer maintenance by keeping dust from building up in the fans. The thing was big and noisy, so I left it on while I was out and turned it off when I got home.
I suddenly remembered that my father used to do the same thing: carry a reusable grocery bag full of papers to and from work. Everyone ridiculed him for it because the appearance and his manner of carrying it made him look like a flood victim. My father, unlike me, is a very patient individual, but like me he prefers to do everything at his own pace and goes everywhere as fast as his legs can carry him, huffing and puffing with a jerky, forced gait rather than just "taking it easy". He quit medical practice when his gradual vision loss became critical, so he went to work for Medicaid as an administrator (one of a frighteningly few doctors in the employ of managed care admin, public and private). He also dressed the same way - olive coat and pants and longsleeve shirts. I picked up the underlying attitude, preferring to present myself as simple and practical, rather than sloppy or pretentious.
When he came home, I remembered he would beach himself like a whale in front of the HEPA filter, which was situated next to a big Pattern fan. He always had to have every light and fan in the house on...he didn't even need the light or air, he just seemed to enjoy the white noise. By coincidence but also by experience I had chosen to use this tool towards my own ends. Personally, I prefer dim light and quiet settings - I enjoy the sensation of being underground.
Because he was blind all the drinking glasses were made of hard plastic and all the plates were made of white melanide. Now that I live alone, all my glasses are made of glass and my bowls and plates are made of iron and ceramic. I intensely hate the taste of plastic glasses and utensils. Like my parents, though, I make sure all my cups, bowls and utensils are uniform - I sometimes visit other people's homes and see how most people use random cups, often with promotional logos or such on them. This comes off as kind of lower-class and very strange to me.
I thought about all this, then made a sort of sardonic grimace, pursing my lips, raising my eyebrows, leaning forward slightly and nodding while bobbing my head side to side. I suddenly realized was the exact gesture my father made when he felt irked by the irony and stupidity eminent in so much of the world.
Then I felt old.
Aestu of Bleeding Hollow... Nihilism is a copout.
|
