Showing posts with label Suck it. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Suck it. Show all posts

Friday, February 7, 2014

February 7: Most Important Part, Small Things, Small Fairy Tale

"Good-bye!" she whispered.  Then she summoned all her strength and waved one of her front legs at him.

She never moved again.  Next day, as the Ferris wheel was being taken apart and the race horses were being loaded into vans and the entertainers were packing up their belongings and driving away in their trailers, Charlotte died.  The Fair Grounds were soon forlorn.  The infield was littered with bottles and trash.  Nobody, of the hundreds of people that had visited the Fair, knew that a grey spider had played the most important part of all.  No one was with her when she died.

I remember reading these two paragraphs when I was about seven and being absolutely devastated.  I think it was one of my first experiences with death.  I mourned Charlotte for a couple of days.  I thought it was a huge injustice that she wasn't able to return to the barn with Wilbur, share his victory with the rest of the animals.  Plus, she dies by herself.  I still think it's one of the saddest passages ever put in a novel, even if it is about a spider.

Of course, being older, I know that spiders have very short life spans.  Charlotte couldn't return to the barn and live to see the hatching of her children.  It goes against nature.  E. B. White does something quite remarkable in this book.  He makes the reader love a spider, and then he lets her quietly die.  Of course, the spider saves her best friend first, sacrifices her last moments for him.  A small act of salvation.

I think it really is the small things we do in life that are really important.  Shoveling for an elderly neighbor after a snowstorm.  Bringing a sick friend a casserole.  Helping a child zip up his jacket.  Tiny acts of kindness that accumulate, like sand on a beach.  They aren't miracles on the scale of multiplying loaves and fishes or curing a person of leprosy. But they are miracles that restore faith in the human state.

People are pretty self-centered most of the time.  We don't think of the McDonald's worker who makes minimum wage and has three kids to support.  We ignore the man with chronic asthma and no health insurance.  We see newspaper stories about house fires and simply thank God it wasn't our house or our family.  We don't go out of our way to help out our neighbors, like Charlotte helps Wilbur.  I think that's one of the reasons the world is in the shape it's in.  Not enough spiders to write words in their webs.

Once upon a time, there lived an old man at the edge of a village.  He was the meanest old man in the entire kingdom.  He shot arrows at children who ventured into his yard.  He poisoned neighbors' dogs for crapping on his property.  He never bought any cookies from the local troop of Girl Scouts.  This old man's name was Gregorich.

One morning, Gregorich woke up and saw a spiderweb in the corner of his bedroom.  Woven into the web were two words:  "Be Kind."

Gregorich got out of bed, stunned.  He picked up a broom and swept away the web.  He sprayed insecticide all through his house.

Gregorich lived until the age of 103, and he never bought a Girl Scout cookie his entire life.  He died alone.  Unwept.  Unloved.

When the villagers came into his house to empty it out, they saw a spiderweb in the corner of his bedroom.  In the web were two words:  "Suck It."

Moral of the story:  spiders hold grudges.

And Saint Marty lived happily ever after.

It's mean, but it's funny

Friday, June 21, 2013

June 21: The Only Thing, Medical Office, Fairy Tale

...You could go there a hundred thousand times, and that Eskimo would still be just finished catching those two fish, the birds would still be on their way south, the deers would still be drinking out of that water hole, with their pretty antlers and their pretty, skinny legs, and that squaw with the naked bosom would still be weaving that same blanket.  Nobody'd be different.  The only thing that would be different would be you...

A lot of things have changed for me this week.  At work.  At the university.  I wish my life could be like the little museum display Holden is talking about in the passage above.  Everything stays the same--the Eskimo, the fish, the birds, the deer.  (I won't go near the use of the word "squaw," which, obviously, is quite dated and culturally insensitive nowadays.)  Holden finds stability comforting.  Unfortunately, change happens.  People change.  Holden recognizes this fact.  And, because people change, the world changes.  Every time I reread a book, it changes for me.  The words don't change.  The story doesn't change.  I change.

I didn't work today at the medical office.  That's one of the changes that happened this week.  I woke up this morning feeling like I should be answering phones, putting together medical charts, and responding to emails.  I should have been working, like I've been doing every Friday for the last twelve or thirteen years.  It was unsettling, and I still feel uncomfortable with the fact that I didn't earn any money today.  But I can't change this situation.  I have to accept it.  Deal with it.

Today I'm supposed to provide a fairy tale, since it's Fairy Tale Friday.  I'm not feeling very once-upon-a-time-ish right now.  I feel more gin-and-tonic-ish.  However, I am a saint of my word, so...

Once upon a time, a farmer named Hamster lived on the same plot of land that five generations of his family had lived on.  For close to two hundred years, the Hamsters had raised turnips and artichokes on the Hamster farm.

One day, King Louie drove up in his carriage and said to Hamster, "Pack up your shovels and hoes, peasant.  You're no longer allowed to farm here."

"But," Hamster protested, "I've lived here my whole life.  Farming this land is the only thing I know."

King Louie listened patiently, and then he said, "Suck it."

Hamster and his family were escorted off the Hamster family farm, and King Louie sold the land to a huge, corporate farming conglomerate that converted the farm into a strip mining operation.

And Saint Marty lived unhappily ever after.

The Hamster family farm today...