Death and Tennis

Prompt: Impossible

black dog

A scruffy black dog runs across the court, black on blue
Sniffs the crotch of the ball boy
Takes a lap
Tongue lolling
Looks for me

She serves
An ace
The black dog scoops up the green ball
Looks for me

He flies over the net
Lands softly
On soft pads
Looks for me

It is his dream
I am there
Find me.

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Rediscovered

Prompt: Grow Up


Dear Wednesday,

No one grows up voluntarily.

Most of us are dragged kicking and screaming into adulthood— we resist and rebel, until we discover that it’s probably in our best interest to behave in a way that doesn’t completely alienate us, since we need jobs and roofs and sandwiches and fleece jackets and someone to warm our bed.

We learn to like power in whatever form we can wield it, the breathlessness of intimacy, and the indescribable joy when a challenge is met and overcome. We learn the contentment of ceding to biology and brushing our hair until it shines, throwing our body over our child to protect it, and lusting with purpose and deliberation.

Our young selves never disappear though, do they? They hang around inside us like a dinner guest that has outstayed their welcome, maybe wanting one more coffee or a glass of wine and another piece of cake. Needy, sometimes. Reckless, other times. And sometimes, our inner young self is the guest who brings up that humiliating moment we’d rather stayed hidden and suppressed.

While our young inner self lives in hope of having long unfulfilled needs met, our adult self lives in hope that everything will make sense someday; that insight slowly creeping into our consciousness like liquid spilling through floorboards, that the purpose of life is not success, children, power, love, god— but to somehow, sometime, make sense of it all.

Related to the theme of growing up, may I present a few of my favourite cartoons?

cartoon good or slut

cartoon spoil presidency

cartoon rediscovered


Love, peace and bon temps,

~~FP

Best of Seven

Prompt: Should


Hello Wednesday!

Shoulda, coulda, woulda.

While “please” and “thank you” are magic words, “I should have”, “could have”, “would have” are words of doom and regret. Or anyway, of wistful longing or face-palming annoyance.

This past week my brother has been visiting, just as winter finally struck the valley. He managed to drive up during a break in the cold and snow— a weather window— and while he was here the winter temps and wind conditions grew more and more precipitous. He wasn’t able or prepared to stay for a month, so how to best judge the right moment to climb into his snow-tired vehicle and brave the mountain passes for six hours?

He could stay on an extra week no problem, but the forecasts for later in the month were for even colder, more wintery weather which might not break until March. So we collectively decided that today, Wednesday, February 13 was The Day, the weather window. No snow predicted, clearer skies, warmer temperatures.

As an aside, the snow here in our valley has been of the light, sparkly, twinkly, powder kind, not the heavy wet dump of mountain communities or the coast. So there was the element of leaving the safe, pretty snow for the dense, dangerous kind.

There is no surprise ending. Aside from navigating through the briefest of blizzards half an hour after his departure, brother had no problems and drove through the mountain passes and highways and byways without much problem, although he passed countless abandoned cars and trucks in the ditches, remnants of yesterday’s storms. This morning the drivers of those vehicles could be heard throughout the land, cursing: “I shoulda waited until Wednesday.”

Unrelated to winter driving conditions but to today’s prompt, “should”, may I present a few of my favourite cartoons?

cartoon should crap

cartoon solar coolercartoon best of seven


Wherever you are, enjoy your weather windows (even if they are only of the looking-through kind)!

~~FP

Agony Ant: Neanderthal Poetry [Repost]

Prompt: Save

moose

Dear Agony Ant,

My boyfriend is a Neanderthal.

He keeps himself relatively clean, but has the worst teeth, as in some are missing, some are loose, and some are sharp. This means that our love-making is perilous and often painful and bloody, though is quite spectacular in other regards.

Yes, he should see a dentist, but is deathly afraid of them. He is also afraid of small spaces, lightning, automobiles, cats, plastic, and electricity.

He is also not much of a conversationalist, choosing to “do” rather than “say”. I can’t claim he doesn’t communicate well, but I am a bit of romantic, and love poetry. I really wish he would one day say in words how he feels about me. He has never told me he loves me, but I suspect he does.

We are trying to decide whether to live together. I am a bit of a neat freak, and he is quite the opposite. He rabidly sticks to his paleo diet, while I am vegetarian.

I am no spring chicken, and he might be my one shot at true happiness, commitment, and baby Neanderthals.

How can I tell if we should move in together?

Yours truly,
Sentimental Lover


 

Dear Sentimental Lover,

That’s quite a catch you have there. I am kidding. The heart has reasons, and all that.

If you are willing to overlook the little quirks, like his lack of speech and fear of plastic, because you love each other, then all the power to you. I’m sure he overlooks your flaws, like your use of electric lights and toothpaste.

But, he owes you some proof of his true affection and romantic feelings. Demand that he write you a love poem. If he can overcome his shyness about communicating his feelings, then I believe you can be a brilliant match, despite your differences in diet.

Peace and love,
agony ant


 

Dear Agony Ant,

He did it! He wrote me a love poem. It made me cry. Do you think it proves his sincerity?

I am hunter
You are womb
You are beautiful like skinned moose
Pink
Juicy
Fill belly.

Yours truly,
Sentimental Lover


 

Dear Sentimental Lover,

It made me cry too. Anyway, the sincerity is definitely there.

Good luck as you start your romantic adventure cohabiting, and possibly, marriage, children, and growing old together.

May I suggest you relocate to a city with legalized marijuana?

Peace and love,
agony ant


  • Original Prompt: False, July 8, 2016

Thumbing

Prompt: Fire


Dear Wednesday,

Today I really wanted to talk about opposable thumbs.

That’s because my brand new mandoline— a kitchen device used for slicing and julienning— arrived yesterday and I simply couldn’t wait to try it out, so I made a big salad that included sliced baby cucumbers, radishes, and thumb.

Yes I foolishly made a wee slice in my right thumb. I thought I was smarter than all the reviewers on Amazon who warned that the blade was sharp and that they had foolishly sustained injuries. There was even a gross picture of blood. Yet I persisted, and the accident occurred.

I put a band-aid on it and went about my day, quickly learning that my day involved my right thumb. The bandage covered my thumbprint, which is how I log into my devices. I rely on my thumb for barely above-average typing. For holding awkward utensils and pencils. To properly hold a coffee mug. To open a jar or a bottle of wine. To hold a fork. To feel the pulse in my left wrist with my right thumb— admittedly not a crucial task nor the right way to do it but what if I wanted to?

The opposable thumb was an important element of human evolution because it allowed us to develop and use tools, which apparently led to great things, like Post-It notes.

The point is, the opposable thumb is a connection to our past, to our rising above our primitive origins, leading to the creation of spears, slaughterhouses, printing presses, computer chips, self-driving cars, Netflix, origami, Cowichan sweaters, the Hubble telescope, electricity, the Panama Canal, fishing nets, bird sanctuaries, safety pins, garter belts, and Post-It notes— yet by my foolish mandoline thumb-slicing mishap, I demonstrated that I was unfit to have an opposable thumb because I’m too damn stupid.

Another task requiring an opposable thumb is lighting a match and creating a littleĀ fire, which happens to be the prompt for today. So may I present a few of my favourite cartoons, loosely connected to the prompt, “fire”?

cartoon caveman juggling

cartoon pets smoking

cartoon fire mover


See you tomorrow for Throwback Thursday.

Love and peace,

~~FP

Like a Tourist

Prompt: Shipwrecked


Dear Wednesday,

It’s cartoon day and a chance to dip in to the many desert island cartoons, which seem to be a staple of cartoonists everywhere. Why, I wonder? I feel the urge to overanalyze creeping over me…

Don’t we all harbour a secret wish to start fresh? With none of the trappings, baggage, burdens of our daily lives? Maybe retreat somewhere isolated, simple, free from the roar of social media and day to day noise and distractions? Of course we don’t get to be shipwrecked with all our favourite books and cocktail ingredients, but… details, details.

Yet the desert island dwellers in cartoon land, for all they’ve been released from the worldly grind, keep reverting to the familiar, the comfortable, the normal, no matter how nonsensical.

So there’s the conundrum, the dilemma, the perplexity: We want the new, the adventure, the do-over but also crave the familiar and the predictable.

People are dumbasses.

cartoon island network

cartoon island tourist

cartoon island camera


I have to admit the islands do look peaceful. And warm.

Love and peace,

~~FP