We gave a Garbage Truck Lego Set to our 6-year-old nephew for his birthday, so he made this drawing that originally said THANK YOU but I cropped it so that it now says YOU [GARBAGE TRUCK].
Dear diary,
Last night my sweetheart and I visited my brother and his family. This is a rare event: usually, only a holiday will provoke our getting together; but this time it was a request from my nephew, who wanted to show us his new video game system. I’ll try to report what I remember about our evening.
We arrived at 3 p.m. and were greeted by my brother and his wife. They explained that Biv was presently playing football with the neighborhood kids. (I don’t know why I feel the need to protect my nephew’s identity by giving him this fake name; and I’m aware that I’m inconsistent in my choice: I think I was calling him Michael earlier.) So we adults all stood around chatting for a while, while we waited for Biv to return.
“Is Biv in school now?” I asked. And my brother said, “Yes, he just started kindergarten.” Then I asked, “Do you ever spend time with any of your other friends who have children? I’m curious if your kids are friends with their kids.” And my brother’s wife answered, “No, we don’t have time to see any of our friends anymore; so our children haven’t met and don’t know each other.” Then I said, “Being a parent is a full-time job, is it not?” And my brother and his wife both shrugged.
Then we walked to the park, and some other parents were there. The parents all knew each other, so they all talked together while my sweetheart and I stood smiling politely in silence. The parents all shared a shorthand lingo and common references from spending time together at school functions and children’s sporting events.
Then we returned home and ate tacos. Biv showed us his video game system, and we played a racing game. Then he got tired of that, so we turned it off and played a card game. After that, I asked Biv to show us his new drawings; when he did, I asked if I could take some of them home, but he said no. (The picture of the truck above is from another time – I probably shouldn’t have paired it with this entry.)
That’s all that happened. Now I’m sitting here at my house the next morning, typing up this account and wondering about life . . . parents and children . . . the United States of America . . . dogs . . . football . . . work . . . school . . .
§
I want to start out by saying something about the cultural atmosphere of this place where I live, but before I use a phrase like “our culture,” I feel that I should explain more precisely what I mean by that word “our”? Do I mean the people of this city or state, or the Midwest in general, or the whole country, or the entire western hemisphere?
I think I mean the Wild West. This place where everyone is always in a hurry, driving cars, buying and selling. Networking, marketing. Cheery and positive but only skin-deep. Extremely concerned about physical health but perfectly indifferent to the life of the mind.
I do not like our culture, so I try to stay away from it; and I choose not to have children of my own, because I would not want to put them through this system . . . this mercantilism.
How much does love cost? How much does God cost? How much does an education cost? How much does life cost?
Love can be bought from a . . . Can you buy love? Yes, fathers and mothers cost fifty dollars apiece, and you can get a whole family for less than . . . And God is [note to self: research current price] . . . And my nephew’s grandfather already contributed five hundred dollars to the lad’s college fund.
One’s unique aptitude . . . the medical industry . . . the military . . .
When you call an item “priceless,” it gives me the feeling that that item is very dear to you, and that you would consider it too vulgar to put a price tag on it. Think about when someone declares “I wouldn’t sell this item for all the money in the world.” What if that item is an automobile – do you think that the owner would eat his words and sell the car if you gave him a million bucks? I don’t believe that he would. People really love their cars.
Now, what if the item for sale is somebody’s spouse? How much should a person charge for another person? It depends on supply and demand. What will the market bear? Should we check the latest numbers on the tickertape? . . . Also, one must ask: Does this person that you’re selling rightfully belong to you? I mean: is the individual your own spouse, or are you selling the spouse of your neighbor? Does your neighbor know about this, or are you planning on surprising him or her? Do you take credit cards? What’s your real name? How long have you been working as a merchant? I heard the weather is supposed to get warmer tomorrow, and then it will cool back down over the next few days.
If I were a woman, I would say “Well, it’s obvious that all men desire to sleep with me; therefore, I shall charge rent for the use of my body.” And, in this way, I would grow rich.
When Judah saw her, he thought her to be an harlot; because she had covered her face. And he turned unto her by the way, and said, “Go to, I pray thee, let me come in unto thee;” (for he knew not that she was his daughter in law.) And she said, “What wilt thou give me, that thou mayest come in unto me?” And he said, “I will send thee a kid from the flock.” . . . And he gave it her, and came in unto her, and she conceived by him. (Genesis 38:15-18)
That’s how Pharez and Zarah got their start in the world. Their mother was Tamar, and their father was the patriarch Judah, one of the twelve sons of Israel. The price of body-rental was just one goat.
And here’s another thing that I would do if I were a woman. After lying down with a man and conceiving twins, I would make sure that my customer paid me fully before taking his leave. Then, once I had secured his money in my handbag (for I would not charge livestock but dollars for the use of my person), I would follow the man at a distance for several blocks, as he walked through the city; and I would keep myself in the shadows, so that nobody would see me; then, as soon as the man took a turn into a back alley, I would sprint forth and leap upon him and tackle him to the ground; whereon I would bite his neck with my teeth, and slay the man. Then I would search through the pockets of the man’s overcoat until I discovered his wallet, and I would take all the money from there and transfer it into my own handbag. This way, I would build up even more income than I had gained from our earlier encounter. And, lastly, I would pick up the man’s remains and take them to the factory which processes industrial fats and oils; because rendering plants pay cash for animal by-products like grease, blood, feathers, and carcasses from various sources.
No comments:
Post a Comment