Or Are You REALLY Listening ?
Dear Diary,
I spend hours clipping, manicuring, trimming and generally lopping branches off the pine trees that form a hedge out back. It takes ages, and I end up all prickled and bothered and then have to haul cubic meters of branches, boughs, needles and such to the dump.
And then, come Christmas, I go out and blow 50 bucks on a Christmas tree.
What’s wrong?
Dear Diary,
I love pictures books on trees, and have a pretty decent collection. But, somebody has to cut down trees so I can buy books on them. Does this make any sense?
Dear Diary,
Another run-in with the civil servant who is responsible for sweeping the street but is alas armed with a pair of clippers en sus of the regulation broom. Luckily, I stayed his hand before he was able to sever all the vines and ivy that festoon the garages, explaining along the way that yea tho’ it fronts on the street, it was nonetheless private property. Turns out he thought he was helping me out by cleaning up my ragged cascade of unruly greenery, but I explained my ambition is to have my own version of the Batcave, where an impenetrable curtain of leaves screens the secret entry. (He pointed out I have a blue station wagon and that I back it out of the garage, but I replied that it’s so the neighbours won’t know I’m a superhero at night. Actually, we didn’t say any of that, we just shook hands and he ambled off, but I distinctly perceived a gleam in his eye that tells me he is battling both his instincts and his better judgement.)
Should I have perhaps confiscated his shears?
Dear Diary,
At the biggest antique fair in the area, firmly decided – no more fooling around and procrastinating – to actually find a lamp for the living room, we bought : a bronze statue of Joan of Arc (with no arms), a couple of bits of curiously carved wood (which may have had some purpose once), a piece of Art Nouveau metalwork (with no discerable function) and a parchment page of Gregorian chant (with bits missing)…
Were we wise to pass on the plaster Valkyrie ?
Dear Diary,
Angels fly because they take themselves lightly.
What a wonderful expression. Why can’t I ever find sayings like that?
Not enough helium in my thought balloons?
Dear Diary,
As I was padlocking my bike to a tree downtown the other day, an old lady stopped, looked me up and down and said “What about the flowers, young man!”. I looked down, and sure enough, there were a few sad and scruffy blooms, the product of some over-optimistic city beautification program, much trod upon (and doubtless oft subjected to other canine activities but otherwise unwatered) over which I had parked my bike.
I put on my most earnest demeanor, and replied “Yes, they are rather a nuisance, aren’t they?”
At which point, the elderly lady harumphed and strode off.
Now I wonder… did I a) I really understand the nature of her question, and b) why do most of my encounters with strangers appear to be of a vegetable nature?
Dear Diary,
The other day the local chamber of commerce wote to me (personally!). Time to renew my inscription in the register of commerce, and to make any modifications necessary in said inscription. On a whim, I drew a careful stroke through my middle name and returned the form. A couple of days later, I received a letter stating that my request would be taken iinto due consideration, accompanied by a bill for 147 francs.
I had to write a registered letter saying I renounced my impetuous and ill-considered modification. Over a hundred bucks for an inch-long stroke in a register seems a bit steep. Is there a moral to the story ?
Dear Diary,
Back in the days before computers, the top of my desk was a mess. Now that I have a nice big shiny computer with a vast screen, my desktop is still a mess. Does this mean that, against whatever challenges the future will throw at us, humanity will prevail?
Dear Diary,
The other day while shopping at the local department store, and encumbered with spur-of-the-moment purchases, a very tall security agent with a gun came striding up and said « Excuse me sir. » Naturally, I let all my future purchases fall to the ground in fright and consternation, wondering if somehow I hadn’t paid for something (which is patently ludicrous, I was still inside the store, but my brain had suddenly called in sick and gone off duty as it usually does when urgent action is called for). The fellow then said « Can I have your autograph? » « Of course, I replied, I never refuse an autograph to people wearing guns. » Now, though, I’m worried about getting into the habit of this happening. Next time, will I end up in jail for attempted bribery by offering an autograph?
Dear Diary,
I know you’re very patient, but sometimes I feel as though I’m just talking to myself. Are you really listening ?
TORONTO
The « Lord of the Brush » will be showing at the FANTASY WORLDWIDE International Film Festival in Toronto on Sunday, Nov. 6, at 7:00 p.m. This is the first time it will be shown in a festival. Don’t miss it.
The organisers say : « We focus our lens on World Mythology, Fantasy (No Horror), Mysticism, Magical Realism, Science Fiction, Historical Fiction, Legend and Archetype, and bring them all together under one tent. » While this seems to me to require both a fish-eye lens and someone to sort mixed metaphores, it’s the first edition. More news as I have it.
SIGNATURE SESSIONS
Usually, people line up to get something. Occasionally, people bring gifts and I go away far richer than I came. Here’s a little sketch of the session in Mons…
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Illustration©Sky-Tattoo
But, I must admit, my favourite picture is in the Fan Art portfolio this month… that fell fowl, the dreaded Chicken of the Black Gates.
