Jun 20, 2021

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Chapter 31, Right vs. Wrong and other late night illusions/self-inventories!




I must be nuts.  I was in bed and about to drift off to sleep.  Sleep until that mid-during-the-night eye-opener when I always wake up for an hour or two.  That, like many older imaginative people, is when we like to terrorize ourselves with pending ugly what-if's and random worry.  Everything was perfect for the first, part A, snooze for tonight.  Even my beloved dogger Lulu had positioned herself on the top of my plump pillow (behind my plump head of course but she always reminds me I am wearing a dog night cap.  Lulu makes me smile and I dare not move. I also figure it's all part of Gods big plan that would confuse me if I didn't just shut up and enjoy the somewhat odd personal mixed-breed rescue dog warmth of it all).   

I got up very gently as to not disturb my dog headdress.  See, I do have kindness for others, dog or not, anyone or anything (especially when they are showing warmth, any).  All of which is left to my 77+ (pending with dread the August and Virgo addition to my age) year old accumulated sense of right and wrong in general.  Kindness directed toward animals is a much needed seperate catagory for personal character improvement for many. I still murder spiders. There you have it, you see, there is much personal growth to be done before I let those mil piernas into my unforgiving/overly defensive, sometimes feardriven, heart.

 


Fidget and blink as I push back my thinning hair and squint at this computer monitor.  Truthfully I am slightly off center in my thinking as I am quite a free-spirited sort of a person. I seem to be gathering some very strict ideas (which of course I dismiss immediately when they apply to me or those I love as I am not a Q-tainted Republican...not even chic to be a Episcopalian Republican anymore. Oy vey, what social decay we are forced to view, I have always been a Democrat anyway).  

I think it is my English (many Scotsmans too) blood which has its moments of non-passion/tenacity in my veins (after exhausting me my whole life with steamy secrets and occassional breathless realities)....really, it's very confusing to be of English descent.  

Official and unofficial cousins. Many Norteamericanoes, including me, believe the English have a wonderous sort of savvy and chic.  However, most often they smash our dreams, are non-nobility and send little cracked crown jewel defects and smudged merit ribbons floating over to us in our National blood stream...representation with a great deal of sometimes unpleasant sensation/outcomes.  The truth remains we must NOT blame the British for our own snobbish ALL-AMERICAN zeal as we sucked/sacked it all out of the pages/film scenes of Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibilities.  Reality just takes some getting used to ,,,,we still are missing part of our best education through heritage (and we make their eyes roll).

Alas. Just made me think of the older, years ago but bordering on my age now, waitress at the Rose Garden Luncheon Restaurant at Harrods.  Such a sweet lady who always addressed me (and everyone else but I took it personally) as LOVE. I always went/go there for lunch when in London. They had/have a grand piano and pianist too.  Roast Beef and Yorkshire (not quite Simpsons, or my Moms, but just fine).  I feel I should like Harrods because years ago I purchased my Colport Blue Wheat (now in possession of my dear niece Jennifer)...many trips to keep charging on my Harrod account (yes I had one) the various serving pieces too.  All shipped to Los Angeles where things like that formerly belonged with people like me in the Fashion, or Film, Business held little dinner parties for ten/twelve to show them off in the West part of the city.  Same with my Baccarat Crystal/Gold Circle pattern that I purchased each trip to Paris (naturally).  Later, when I lived in Puerto Rico, my young dentist, Inés M. Acarón, Dentista, was getting married and I exchanged with her the wines and water gobblets for porcaline crowns (which remain uncracked to this day and are well fitted inside my ancient mouth and get spruced up annually).

I must go back to bed.  I have made it clear for all to see that my mouth is so multi purpose but it really ought stop being so foolish when it lets mean or unflattering (to others and myself) words pass through the aging corridor...thank goodness lips are near-by to soften the blow with a good night kiss.  I like that.  Besos, imagined or not, ready or not here I come.

TO BE CONTINUED

Leonardo Ricardo

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