Overheard and overseen
Jul. 25th, 2006 10:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
resonantThe coffee shop staff are all wearing headbands with animal ears on them. Is it Halloween already?
(The spouse and I got married in October, and when we were driving back from our honeymoon, we stopped at the Stardust Motor Inn in Schenectady, New York, and the desk clerk was dressed as a witch, with long black fingernails and green-tinged skin, and it will tell you something about the Stardust Motor Inn that for most of the transaction it didn't even occur to me to wonder why. Then I realized: Oh. We've been out of touch with calendars. It must be Halloween.)
"So she moves here from Manhattan, and you can imagine it's a tough adjustment, and she falls into a depression. And eventually she goes to a psychiatrist. But it turns out that the psychiatrist is also from Manhattan, and all he can say is, 'Oh, my god, why did you ever leave? How can you bear it?' "
Kid with T-shirt that says, "I do all my own stunts." And I noticed her because she was standing on top of a wheeled high chair.
Teenage girl with a very tight T-shirt that says, "Is it hot in here? Or is it just me?" -- in tears, clinging to her father.
Guy at the fair, in line in front of us, looking like a refugee from a rock concert -- long dyed-black hair with a red streak in it, two big rings through his upper lip like tusks, tattoos on his fishbelly skin, those giant black pants that, as if they weren't in enough danger of falling off already, have heavy silver chains hanging from them. And the next time I see him, he's got a little girl with her front teeth missing, and he's buckling her into the swing ride and saying, "Now, hang on tight."
I'm waiting at a traffic light on one of those downtown streets where the autobody shop and the secondhand store are the only remaining businesses. I see two guys (early twenties) walking toward each other, one white and one black. They're not doing that usual body-language thing people do when they're going to pass in the street; they're aware of each other in a way that makes me a little nervous. They get in sight of each other and they stop and stand kind of close, and I'm thinking, "Oh, how cool; I was nervous for nothing; these guys are friends." -- and then the white guy hands the black guy a wad of cash and the light turns green.
(The spouse and I got married in October, and when we were driving back from our honeymoon, we stopped at the Stardust Motor Inn in Schenectady, New York, and the desk clerk was dressed as a witch, with long black fingernails and green-tinged skin, and it will tell you something about the Stardust Motor Inn that for most of the transaction it didn't even occur to me to wonder why. Then I realized: Oh. We've been out of touch with calendars. It must be Halloween.)
"So she moves here from Manhattan, and you can imagine it's a tough adjustment, and she falls into a depression. And eventually she goes to a psychiatrist. But it turns out that the psychiatrist is also from Manhattan, and all he can say is, 'Oh, my god, why did you ever leave? How can you bear it?' "
Kid with T-shirt that says, "I do all my own stunts." And I noticed her because she was standing on top of a wheeled high chair.
Teenage girl with a very tight T-shirt that says, "Is it hot in here? Or is it just me?" -- in tears, clinging to her father.
Guy at the fair, in line in front of us, looking like a refugee from a rock concert -- long dyed-black hair with a red streak in it, two big rings through his upper lip like tusks, tattoos on his fishbelly skin, those giant black pants that, as if they weren't in enough danger of falling off already, have heavy silver chains hanging from them. And the next time I see him, he's got a little girl with her front teeth missing, and he's buckling her into the swing ride and saying, "Now, hang on tight."
I'm waiting at a traffic light on one of those downtown streets where the autobody shop and the secondhand store are the only remaining businesses. I see two guys (early twenties) walking toward each other, one white and one black. They're not doing that usual body-language thing people do when they're going to pass in the street; they're aware of each other in a way that makes me a little nervous. They get in sight of each other and they stop and stand kind of close, and I'm thinking, "Oh, how cool; I was nervous for nothing; these guys are friends." -- and then the white guy hands the black guy a wad of cash and the light turns green.
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(no subject)
Date: 7/25/06 03:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 7/26/06 02:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 7/25/06 04:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 7/26/06 02:10 pm (UTC)I never did learn what the deal was with the animal headbands. They're an odd bunch here.
(no subject)
Date: 7/25/06 04:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 7/26/06 02:12 pm (UTC)In my high school creative writing class, our teacher used to have us do an exercise she called "Specifics" -- we'd go someplace and come back with a list of fifty things we'd seen, heard, smelled, whatever.
Some years later, when I was in my first year as a journalist, I had to write a little fluff feature on the Christmas parade. I went back to the office and looked at my notes and said, "Hey! It's Specifics!"
(no subject)
Date: 7/27/06 04:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 7/25/06 04:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 7/26/06 02:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 7/25/06 04:55 pm (UTC)I have GOT to get my oldest son one of those!
The 2 guys thing.... :(
In Seattle the "refugee from a rock concert" parent is more common than not. You see moms & dads out with their cute little toddlers & you're just stunned at how mom & dad still look like they're Angry Teenagers.
At least till they have kids that are school age & home needs to be a consistent place. Then suddenly we all look the same. It's WAY too much work to look that weird every day - kids don't leave us that kind of time. And it's WAY too hard to make enough money to provide that consistent home if you wear your weird on the outside.
It seems like we all eventually figure out that it's weird on the INSIDE that counts.
"I wear my weird on the inside." Now that's a bumpersticker for ya. :D
(no subject)
Date: 7/25/06 05:20 pm (UTC)Do you mind if I run with that idea? I'm thinking maybe Cafe Press....
(no subject)
Date: 7/25/06 05:30 pm (UTC)I think that
Date: 7/25/06 09:06 pm (UTC)if not she can have it made into a button for you.
(no subject)
Date: 7/26/06 02:16 pm (UTC)It's WAY too much work to look that weird every day - kids don't leave us that kind of time.
I never thought of that, but it was a kind of high-maintenance look. Plus, all-black outdoors when it's 96 degrees? He was really suffering from his weirdness.
The kidlet is in a phase where she's kind of in love with us, and she loves aspects of our appearance that we ourselves are not so crazy about. ("I love it when you smile really big and I can see the cap where you broke your tooth!" "I like those two white hairs you have in your eyebrow!") So I figure this little girl probably likes to lean on her dad (uncle? older brother?) on the couch and make a braid with two black chunks and a red chunk.
(no subject)
Date: 7/26/06 01:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 7/26/06 02:18 pm (UTC)I recently looked back at my high school scrapbook and discovered that even back then I was saving up quotes. (Example from senior Latin class: Teacher: "Janet, where did you get the ship in that sentence?" Janet: "Um, I supplied it?")
(no subject)
Date: 7/26/06 02:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 7/26/06 02:19 pm (UTC)One day you should visit me
Date: 7/26/06 04:32 am (UTC)Re: One day you should visit me
Date: 7/26/06 02:20 pm (UTC)