ARR 1988 - Flipbook - Page 135
of performing the new career they'd sold him into, let alone enjoying it.
Tossing my useless pouch to the floor, I scrabbled in the glove
compartment for paper, hoping there would be something rolling around
under the seat to write with. I came up with more empty gum wrappers and
an almost dry eyebrow pencil, and began to write feverishly. Just as the
people faded from tan to naught, the light changed to green and I began to
chant the details that kept flooding into my head. But by the time I reached
home, the orgy of creativity had passed. I collected as many of the gum
wrappers as I could and ran into the house. I couldn't decipher what little
there was on them. The next great American short story had seeped out
between stop lights.
The incident caused me to do another complete evaluation of priorities,
energies, habits, societal trends, etc. I found my old duffel bag at the bottom
of the closet and filled it with everything I'd had to move to get to it. I added
two lined yellow tablets, the kind with a stiff back. They can be scribbled on
with one hand while the other is keeping the car out of the way of motorists
who insist on using the road at the same time I do. I also added a spare set
of car tools and at least a dozen more pens.
I sigh when I realize that I can no longer maneuver a grocery store aisle
without knocking cans off shelves on both sides, let alone travel the aisle of
a modern jumbo jet without making heads roll. There is a very fine line
between preparedness and over compensation. I, for one, haven't found it
yet. No wonder our culture stays mired in outdated traditions.
Marj Stuart
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