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 November 2002(That is not an allusion to Peter Gabriel, even if that brilliant and underappreciated rock star did put out a new album recently, because I bought U2 and Sixpence instead. So there.) So. (as I was saying...) There comes a time in every man's life when he needs to revisit places where he once was, to do things again he has once done. Chilly, blustery Thursday evenings in Novembers seem to fit the bill. As such, I will do the best I can at some self-critical, post-modern deconstructive self-analysis. Or not. Whatever. The thing I would like to re-analyze, or deconstruct, or whatever it was that I was perhaps thinking of doing, is revisiting a song of mine, my genuine #1 hit (note: it is #1 on the charts of cruddy acoustic tunes recorded on a portable cassette recorder sometime in 1997 in Thorold in a bedroom, while avoiding things resembling genuine work, while the home owners were away and there was really nothing much else for Alex to do). The song to which I refer, is, of course, Bad Day. So. (Am I the only one hearing hints of Seamus Heaney's not-altogether-semantically-accurate-yet-somehow-remarkably-amazingly-cool translation of Beowulf every time I type "So."? I thought so.) Without further ado, I present to you, "October", subtitled, "A Month of Bad Days."
And there I was And there it wasn't And I was Upset Oh well Just a bad day What can you do? What can you say? Indeed. I showed up to the first session of Old English that I was going to attend and realized I was at the wrong classroom, and the new site for the class was a good 6 minute walk across campus. Oh well. I was at least half-way up to speed before class started (read: I knew how to bluff my way through class).
And then it happened And I wasn't ready And it threw my whole day Off Oh well Just a bad day What can you do? What can you say? This is a more recent event. I was walking to school on a lovely Thursday morning, a morning not altogether unlike this morning, on the grounds that this morning was also a lovely Thursday morning. Actually, I think if you were to survey Thursday mornings, you'd discover that 4 out of 5 share a dentist. But that is beside the point. The point, and an interesting point it is, too, is that this Thursday morning caught me off guard (would you like me to call?)--yes, that was a Spyglass Blue reference-- and I was not in the least prepared for it. I was walking, schoolward, and as I made my way up the hill (I often feel like singing psalms of ascent as I go up toward the seminary, but there is something too altogether odd about that proposition that keeps me from it) there was a man setting out garbage at his curb. Not a big deal, you say? So would have I, most mornings. (watch for the narrative person shift!) However, the small, extenuating detail to this particular Thursday morning is that his dog was outside, and not on a leash. Dog sees man approaching master. Dog does not know man. Dog defends master. Dog attacks Alex, clamping its powerful jaws on Alex's right elbow. Alex is wearing a nylon jacket and a sweater. Alex is spared from serious damage, as a result. The master calls off said dog. Dog receives stern talking to. Master says, "My dog doesn't bite." Alex says, "He just bit me." Alex walks up to school, and his body feels like rubber (from the shock of being attacked) and his elbow hurts a little and has a general weird-feelingness about it. Alex arrives at school, visibly shaken, and takes off his jacket. He takes off his sweater. He notices an ugly looking scrape-like mark on his elbow and wonders if he should get it checked. He cleans up his small wound as best he can (including the ultra-nasty pine-scented disinfectant) and then worries all morning. The day is a blur. His whole day is thrown off, especially when he spends 1.5 hours in a health clinic waiting for and getting a tetanus shot (just because it is always better to be safe than sorry). In retrospect, he wonders if he should have requested his free flu shot while he was at it. This little incident also involved learning the contact numbers for the Humane Society and the Public Health department, phone numbers Alex doesn't particularly like having to use.
And I wanted to laugh But I had to cry I'm sure that you know the reason Why Oh well Just a bad day What can you do? What can you say? This particular fragment does not address any singular event of late; it is just the general way I have felt too much in the last three weeks or so. Fortunately, I have laughed more than cried. And I hope that in the recounting of my not-so-bad-but-mildly-frustrating month I have shared a little levity with you, as well.
Until next time... |