Late Night Phone Call

Most people know I'm a night person and I don't mind late phone calls although I might cut a bitch who calls me early in the morning I prefer not to get early morning calls. But people rarely call after midnight unless there's a crisis. Or unless somebody wants some food delivered. There used to be, in our fair city, a service that would pick up orders from a limited list of restaurants and deliver to private homes for a small fee. I tried to use them a couple of times and they were always backed up for hours. Kind of defeated the purpose. Here's a sample of one of my late night delivery calls, which happened to take place tonight.

Phone rings. Number is a cell phone that isn't in my phone memory, but my kids sometimes call me on borrowed phones so I answer.*

Me: Hello?
Guy: Hello?
Me: Hey, that's what I said.
Guy: Huh?
Me: That's what I just said too.
Guy: Huh?
Me: I said "Hello" and then you said "Hello" too.
Guy: Oh....uh....yeah. I did. Is this the delivery service?
Me: No, it is not.
Guy: Oh....uh....I must have dialed the wrong number. I got it off the internet.
Me: No, it's the right number. They went out of business years ago.
Guy: Oh....uh....so they went out of business and you got their number?
Me: Yes.
Guy:  Oh, so people get your number off the internet and call you late at night and ask you to deliver food to them?
Me: And other times of the day.
Guy: Wow. Dude, that sucks. I'm really sorry. Uh....yeah. I'm sorry I called you so late.
Me: It's OK. It happens fairly often.
Guy:  Wow. OK, I won't call again.
Me: OK, that works for me.
Guy: Have a good one then.
Me: Thank you. You have a good one too.
Guy: Bye now.
Me: Bye......sigh.

Remember, dear readers, the Internet is a permanent record.

Pre-sexting

* OK, I confess. I would answer anyway because have you noticed people don't make obscene phone calls any more? They don't! I miss the entertainment value of obscene phone calls. I guess caller ID and readily available internet porn have taken the fun out of random stranger harassment porn calls. I'm waiting in vain for a nostalgic heavy breather.....

I Believe in Baseball

 I went to my first minor league baseball game last night, and had a lot of fun in spite of a lingering headache.* When the city built a new stadium some years ago, people said it was a waste of taxpayers' money, it would sit empty, people would never come downtown because it's too scary and there's not enough parking....blah blah blah. The more they build, the more people come downtown. In fact, sometimes I wish some of them would stay in the suburbs. But, no, they just keep coming and the the stadium set a record this summer for the most consecutive sold-out home games. Something like 815, and that's all of them. About time I went to a game, huh? Given it's a 7-minute bike-ride from my house? (No, I didn't ride there last night, damn it.)

So the stadium was crowded with people eating and drinking: beer, nachos, dippin' dots in plastic helmets, beer, suitcase-size bags of popcorn, beer. I didn't see a single hot dog nor Cracker Jacks, but there was a lot of eating going on. Not so much cheering, which puzzled me. We cheered sometimes just to let the team know somebody was watching. People laughed at the silly games the mascots played between innings, and one of my friends was part of a skit to surprise a guy who had won $10,000. Yeah, count the zeros.

It was a laid-back, slow summer night....although I kept feeling like something was missing. I just couldn't put my finger on what it was....We swatted bugs and laughed about getting swamp ass from the plastic seats. One young mom sitting in front of us started hitting her two-year-old, and I almost went over the seat but she stopped, and so I just kept an eye on her. I was going to smack  her a good one to show her how it feels and then blame it on the brain damage when the police came, but she settled down.

The crowd got more involved toward the end, in the ninth and tenth innings, when the score was tied up and more of the balls were flying off the bats into the field than back into the stands. They must have given up three dozen foul balls to the crowd, and I was certain one would clonk me on my poor head. But as the game got tense, the team stepped up and started getting some exciting hits: a textbook line bunt and even a home run. The wall displays and the big screen urged us to cheer and stomp and clap and so we finally did. But something..... hmmmm ....what was missing?

Finally I realized what it was: I was missing Kevin.....Kevin Costner in Bull Durham. Mmmmm. Crash Davis. What a man! Maybe it's because it was my first game, but I missed the team playing to the crowd. They all went out there and did their job and they WON! But they didn't make any connection with their crowd, their audience. I wanted to fall in love with them, like fans fell in love with Crash and Nuke. Like Annie fell in love with Nuke...and Crash.

Well, life isn't a romantic comedy and Kevin Costner might not be the everyday hero he plays in so many of his movies. He probably gets puddle butt on plastic chairs like the rest of us. I enjoyed the game even though it wasn't like the movie because I was there with good friends on a hot summer night and we were sitting on our swamp asses cheering on our home team.

I leave you with the second best scene from Bull Durham, but one of the very best short monologues ever. I fall in love with this guy every time I hear it. Mmmm. I need to find me a Crash Davis.

*I'm only going to be able to claim brain damage for a few days, but I'm going to milk it for all it's worth.

A Silly Questionnaire

I'm having some problems with Blogger today, so I'm posting this silly questionnaire in order to run some tests. And besides, I think every blog should have at least one silly questionnaire post, don't you? How else would you get to know and love me--other than by my silhouette up there? Feel free to post your own.

ABC's about Me

A - available:  Yes, but certain restrictions apply.

B- birthday:  July 19

C- candy:  Dove darks

D- drink you last had: water

F- favorite song: “Bridge Over Troubled Water”

E - easiest person to talk to:  myself

G - gummy bears or gummy worms: They both taste the same to me, but worms are ickier, so I’ll guess worms.

H - happy: I’ll know it if I clap my hands.

I - in love with: someone I made up

J - juggle: constantly

K - killed someone: tempted

L  - longest car ride:  three days…and nights

M- milkshake flavor: chocolate/marshmallow

N - number of siblings: 4 (+ one I don’t know)

O - one wish: see H—for everybody I love

P - person you called last: Kate

R  - reason to smile: my progeny

S - song you last sang: “Everybody Wants You”

T - time you woke up: Yes, it’s definitely time I woke up.

U  - underwear color: black

V - vegetable(s): yes?

W - worst habit: trusting

X - X-rays you've had: back, mouth/face

Y  - yoyos are: Tommy Smothers

Z - zodiac sign: Cancer

Random Questions about You

• Spell your name without vowels: Rtcl
• Your favorite number: 11
• What color do you wear most? black
•   Least favorite colors: yellow, especially on backbones
• What are you listening to?  insects
• Are you happy with your life right now? parts of it; not so much others
• What is your favorite class in school? English
• When do you start back at school/college? after Labor Day
• Are you outgoing? intensely
• Favorite pair of shoes: prefer bare feet
•   Can you tie a cherry stem with your mouth? No, I usually tell other people to do that for me. I am always impressed and then want to immediately engage in sexual activity with the knot-tier. 
• Can you whistle? Put your lips together and blow, right?
• Cross your eyes?  Yes, and then uncross.
• Walk with your toes curled?  Why would I do that? I like to be on my back when my toes curl.
• Do you believe there is life on other planets? The evidence is not conclusive for or against at this time. We really can’t see past our noses when it comes to the universe….or this planet for that matter.
• Do you believe in miracles? I believe things happen that I don’t understand. Lots of things.
• Do you believe in magic? In a young girl’s heart….
• Love at first sight? I don’t even believe in love after months or years, much less first sight.
• Do you believe in Santa? I’m here, aren’t I? Who do you think stays up all night Christmas Eve?
•   Do you know how to swim? Yes, but sometimes I still go under and flounder.
• Do you like roller coasters? They terrify me…..oh, that’s the point, isn’t it? No, my life is roller coaster enough for me. And don't fucking judge me. I take other risks just as big that people think are crazy.
• Do you think you could handle the stuff they eat on those reality shows? Hellz, yeah. You wouldn’t believe some of the “food” I’ve already eaten.
•   Have you ever been on a plane? I even flew one once.
• Have you ever asked someone out? yes
• Have you ever been asked out by someone? yes

 The Whats

• What is the temperature outside? 70
•  What radio station do you listen to? Whichever one is playing a song I like
• What was the last restaurant you ate at? Olive: an urban dive
• What was the last thing you bought? cheesemaking supplies
• What was the last thing on TV you watched? Web Therapy
•  Who was the last person you took a picture of? my daughter and granddaughter
• Who did you last webcam with? Oh, I can’t really talk about that in public.
•  Who was the last person you said I love you to? my daughter
•  Ever really cried your heart out? Tried to; it keeps coming back. Maybe this time it’s gone though. Crossing fingers.
•   Ever cried yourself to sleep? yes
• Ever cried on your friend's shoulder? yes, and soaked it through
• Ever cried over the opposite sex? Like, standing over him with a knife in my hand and shed tears? No. Had my heart broken? Yes.
• Do you cry when you get an injury? Physical? rarely  Emotional? often
•  Do certain songs make you cry? yes, and poems and movies and Hallmark commercials and heroic deeds and cruelty and sometimes honesty and even silence….

It had to happen eventually

Yes, I did promise a post yesterday about what happens in the dungeon, but I didn't get a chance to finish it. I will. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow.....I'm supposed to be taking it easy, which isn't my usual speed. I'm usually fifteen miles over the limit with squishy brakes and no tail lights. But I wrecked my bike for the first time last night and my brain is a little slow and sore.....along with my right shoulder and my knees and the front of my left thigh. I'm not sure how I hit that combination of body parts in one fall, but I did protect my wrists and that's all a musician can ask of a random flight off a bike.

I've written before about my falling phobia. This fall wasn't so bad--I didn't die--so I'm trying to keep a positive attitude about it. It's definitely a good thing I landed on dirt and grass and not on the concrete. Maybe it's not a bad thing I got through a tumble off my bike with only some wrenching, bruising, and maybe a mild concussion.  It wasn't that bad, although a doctor friend diagnosed me on Facebook and gave me an Rx for vegging out in front of the TV tonight. Even if I die, I know he can mix me up a beaker of one of his killer  kick-ass corpse raisers* and I'll be good as new. A Facebook diagnosis is much more restful than sitting in an ER for hours watching CNN amongst the sick people.

The fall wasn't spectacular. It could have been a lot more dramatic if I'd fallen into traffic earlier when we were riding on a busy street or even the river. But it wasn't dramatic at all. A Man Called Horse** and I rode until almost dark....not that the city ever gets dark. As we headed up the levy from the river path on a steepish ramp, I geared down and came up behind him going faster than he was. I thought I'd run past him on his left, but I misjudged the space there and had to jackknife my front wheel to avoid hitting his back tire when I couldn't get past. I flew sideways off my bike  and skidded along the ground on my knees and thigh until my shoulder and head whacked the ground and stopped me.  A Man Called Horse might have continued on up the ramp if I hadn't yelled, "Oh, shit" as I was going down. I'm sure the whole thing looked awkward and ridiculous as hell, and my dignity suffered a worse concussion than my brain.

We weren't far from A Man Called Horse's car, so we sat in the grass by the path for a while and then walked our bikes to the street. He drove me home and stayed for a while to make sure I didn't start frothing at the mouth and twitching uncontrollably for pizza and beer on the front porch. I haven't been back on my bike yet to see if it suffered any damage, but it looked OK once we picked the grass and dirt out of the right shifter.

It does piss me off that I have to buy a new helmet, because mine matches my bike perfectly and it didn't seem to work that well anyway. When my head smacked the ground and my brain exploded, all I could do was lie there stunned and think, What the fuck? I thought this damn helmet was supposed to protect my head! This fucking hurts! So maybe I do need a new helmet after all. This time I'm getting one with a king-size mattress and box springs in it.

So I'm feeling a little too slow in the noggin to write anything clever or medieval  or even anything with hidden metaphorical meaning. I've been catching up in The Big C, which inspired me to start planning Thanksgiving dinner, and now I'm going to start on Weeds. Who knows what that might inspire.

And tomorrow I'm going to feel fine enough to ride my bike to the baseball stadium and go to my first minor league baseball game.*** I'm excited....or I will be when my head stops hurting.



* I don't ask what he puts in the corpse raisers. I just admire the pretty colors of the liquid in the beakers, drink it down like a good girl and ask for more, please.
** A post on the men I ride with is coming up soon. There are lots of good men out there on the bike path....and some who aren't so nice too.
*** I think the only league baseball game I've ever been to was Little League.

I Wish I'd Said...

I don't tend to post poems by other poets very often; maybe I've done it once before. But the poem below spoke so closely to where I've been this summer, I think I might have dreamed these words into being on my screen. It's one of those poems I wish I'd written, I wish I'd said this in exactly these words, but David Whyte got to this particular combination  first. Damn the man.

Self Portrait

It doesn't interest me if there is one God or many gods,

I want to know if you belong or feel abandoned,

If you can know despair or see it in others.

I want to know if you are prepared to live in the world with its harsh need to change you.

If you can look back with firm eyes saying this is where I stand.

I want to know if you know how to melt into that fierce heat of living falling toward the center of your longing.

I want to know if you are willing to live, day by day, with the consequence of love and the bitter unwanted passion of your sure defeat.

I have heard, in that fierce embrace, even the gods speak of God.

David Whyte from Fire in the Earth

© 1992 Many Rivers Press

I can't write here about why this poem touched me in just the right places, but maybe you will have your own reaction to it. Maybe you too have lived with "the consequence of love and the bitter unwanted passion of your sure defeat." I have. I might again.

I'm working on several posts right now, some I promised weeks ago, and then allowed myself to be distracted from even though they were half written, a list poem of my own, and one on what's it's like in the dungeon that I'll post later today. And I've got a series of posts coming up about my summer study topic: psycho/sociopaths. They're closer to you than you think!