Cajun-Tossing and Other Signs of Happiness
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My father embraced technology a long time ago--a fact that I'm not sure is to society's benefit. His communications from his new home in New Orleans are succint and cryptic, often leaving us to discuss their meaning for days after. One such gem: So, me an' Maria 'r walkin, down Decatur street, enjoyin' FQ Fest an' this 58 T-Bird, with a woman and a little girl in it, catches fire. Of course, I'm too stupid to walk away. Between my can of beer and two bottles of water given to me, I saved the car. How're you all doin'? Bear in mind, this is a cut-and-paste job. The man writes in dialect. He loves New Orleans, and he writes us updates like these only when the mood strikes him. Anyway, I'm often left too dumbfounded by his email's opening to compose an appropriate answer to the final question ("How're you all doin'?" in case you're like me). However, his latest transmission stirred something in me. Highest water on the Mississippi in 11 yrs Tues. AM. If yer comin' down, bring a life jacket. Also, I threw a cajun punk off the Moon Walk the other day. What're the chances of a polack grampa throwin' a cajun AWAY from the river. Hee, hee, hee. What're you guys up to? Response is MANDATORY ;) Believe it or not, throwing a cajun punk off of the Riverwalk is not the strangest thing I can imagine the man doing. In fact, we were left wondering which of multiple feasible reasons led to his Cajun-throwing activities. Anyway, when a response to such a dispatch is mandated, one must heed the call. I don't have the talent to be as succint as my father, but I was particularly proud of my last two paragraphs: "On Saturday, I discovered that I love this place. Jamie would mention—in a fit of pregnancy-related hormone fluctuation—that she wasn’t sure if she was entirely happy being here (it was a really bad winter). In six years of saying “then maybe we should consider moving…” to such a statement, I found myself getting downright angry. I held myself in check, but for the first time I found myself insulted by my darling wife’s accusation that, perhaps, our home wasn’t some form of heaven.
The topic didn’t require further discussion. The temperature would rise to an acceptable 60 degrees in the evening. We threw open every door and window and made for our large porch—myself with dark beer and Virgil’s essays in hand. As we lounged in hammock chairs that swayed gently with the breeze, I allowed myself to fantasize. I envisioned the day when Lily would join me, gently rocked to sleep by the sound of the birds and the gentle breeze. In the midst of my fantasy, I looked over and knew Jamie was in the same place; her eyes closed in a manner not befitting sleep, two hands resting upon that beautiful belly and a gentle smile on her face." |
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beautiful!!
I like the transition from "heeheeheeheehee" to "sigh, that's nice."
love this. love it.