Idiot's Guide
I got to the club at noon, which is early, and was just settling down in one of the brown, tufted leather wing chairs to read one of my new books, "Teaching Reading For Dummies".
My AA maestro stepped up. "Giovanni!", he exclaimed, happy to see me evidently. "Did you get behind the lines?"
I told him no, that I didn't get the left-wing think-tank job after all. He said do you suppose it's because of that sh-t eating grin of yours?
I had the book because the think-tank was thinking about how to raise infant-level literacy rates. Despite the turning away and the new path in my life, I still wanted to read it. Or rather, be seen reading it, holding it upside down.
I am buying lots of books at discount now. At my side there was Chicken Soup For The Iowan Soul. (It's finally occurred to them they have another 50 titles, right there, along side Chicken Soup for the Horse Lover's Soul, Chicken Soup For The Car Mechanic's Soul, etc.)
It's interesting, even though there's nothing in the book I didn't already know.
The Iowan Soul is abashed, people pleasing, and it wants to trust, for fear of giving offense for not trusting. Resentments are family and ancestor based. We curse our household ghosts. "Say something!"
We say that to one another too. "Say something!" Youngsters cry out, "Stop boring me!"
It's the boredom, the being and nothingness, that goes way back and explains everything. Our great, great, ever so great grandparents set off West from North Carolina (now there was some color in Norht Carolina...some history at least), but after a scary raft trip across the Mississippi decided their travels were over. It'd be just plain stupid to keep going.
So they settled in the broad featureless land and waited for the scorching summers and cyclone-blizzard winters. Hearty souls carried on, over the mountains and across the desert into the land of orange groves and Eden.
The discovery of gold at Sutters's Mill caused an angry stubbornness, a renewed resolve to stay, rather than adventure forth and admit your cousin was right after all.
Of course we were in two camps but the elders and women prevailed, because we can't help but obey our elders and our women.
The theme of the book is captured in the chapters called "Stop Looking At Me!"
and "Long Time No See!" It goes back to the phenomena of loving strangers and hating our families. Also of having no history whatsoever.
There is one title we avoid: Chicken Soup For The Beach Lovers' Soul. It wouldn't make any sense. To anyone, come to think of it.
____
What else. I'm mad at my email psychiatrist. It's private though.
posted by Jackson @ 6:58 AM
16 Comments:
I din't do a thang. Not one thang.
you din't write yesterday. Not once.
I was sick! And working while sick!! I was noble and saintly.
You on the other hand were craven!! Imagine goosing me in your blog. Very unbloggerly if you ask me.
for one last time, it's not a blog!
It's a Scroll !
Mr Jackson,
I do believe you are being very small and mean to that poor sickly woman. Her being a saint and all.
Your anonymous friend, totally unrelated to the lovely woman in question.
Mr Jackson,
I agree with the last anonymous. How could you be so cruel to that dear woman who works herself to death all while sick.
I am going to make a complaint about you to the supervisor of this site.
Do you know it's been two and a half years and she still hasn't given me a diagnosis?
I mean, unless you count adjectives like "craven" as a diagnosis...
and p.s., I told her to stay home and take lots of medicines but she's stubborn.
Mr Jackson,
I am sure that she is simply a saintly hardworking woman who is all about doing good deeds. Surely stubborn is not a word we use for such rare creatures.
ANd she is far too sensitive to diagnose a person such as yourself. Although I am sure in the privacy of her mind, she says things like "there that mean man goes again".
Sir,
I have been watchin' this bad behavior on your part, impugning the reputation and honor of a fine lady, a southern lady, and you best give her your sincere apologies post haste. Otherwise, I shall be forced to come throttle you. And after that give you a good whuppin to top it off. We don't like our womenfolk insulted by the likes of you and your Iowan cousins.
Beauregard Falkner
what does an e mail psychiatrist write?
1. Hmmmmm.
2. And how did that make you feel?
3. Okay....
"I have been watchin' "
I don't think the old Southern aristocrats dropped their 'g's', doctor.
you said it, brudder bryant, you sed it.
Boors! All of you.
And Jackson my dear man, who are you to decide what aristocratic southerners do in terms of their 'gs''. You are a mere Iowan, from flyover country, a cipher in the steam of life.
Did anyone ever write anything about Iowa other than that dreadful Smiley woman who couldn't even make incest sound interesting. Compare her to my cousin Bill and his writing on incest. Hmmph!
From Iowa, there's so little to notice I'm able to pay attention to every other region.
Let's look into your Cousin William's World War 1 service shall we? Square his account with the record.
The poor devil drank whiskey from a jar.
P.S. Jane Smiley was no Iowan and we ran her off long ago.
Cousin Will was a story teller. His artistic bent often bled into his real life especially when young. He was ashamed of that later. But you cannot hold it against an artiste that he did not let the truth get in the way of a good story.
Actually Cousin Will lived a very good life. Conventional in ways.
Well, I rang your phone while I was at the big box bookstore hoping to receive assistance in locating a book. I had too little information to go up to the nice gentleman that usually helps me at the counter. I left without it and my coupon still in hand. To relate back to the subject at hand those Chicken Soup books kill me. When I see a new one with a freakish "Chicken Soup for the (fill in the blank Soul" I am not even surprised anymore.
Frae'
btw...internet therapist, good idea, wish I had one.
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