Metamorphosism

Knowing what you want

On my mind lately has been the possibility that, when one knows exactly what one wants, then no one can stop one, to the extent of one's ability and resources. This I have observed in Gamma wheedling what she wants out of me, and Beta relentlessly working to achieve what she wants to, and Alpha of course etc etc.

Last night as I put Gamma to bed I grabbed a book off the shelf at random; actually, I was looking for a particular Dahl book, couldn't find it and instead went looking for something else in English, and stumbled across "Fantastic Stories" by Terry Jones and let Gamma pick to stories out and she chose "Ship of Fools" and "The Fast Road".

"Ship of Fools" is about a boy, Ben, who runs away to sea and finds himself on a ship of fools. They lose the ship in a storm, despite Ben's heroic efforts.

By dawn the storm had died down, and Ben was exhausted, but he'd managed to save everyone. One of the fools, however, had thrown all the oars overboard while Ben hadn't been watching, so they couldn't row anywhere. And now the First Mate was so hungry he'd started to eat the lifeboat!

The second story, "The High Road" was about a magical road that took you where you wanted to go, very quickly. The only catch was, you had to know exactly where you wanted to go, otherwise it took you nowhere, equally fast, and you end up in Nowhere, wandering around among other people also wandering around, trying to figure out where they are.

The Dobló broke down on the way home from work. I figured I blew the head gasket, it lost power and so on. My mechanic father-in-law had a look at it and figured the same thing. I only guessed head gasket because I had the same thing happen to me with the first beater I ever owned; it felt the same this time. Head gasket = expensive. My FIL later amended his diagnosis to possibly only a thermostat, which would be a lot cheaper so I'm keeping my fingers crossed. At any rate, I'm home from work today.

So my wife had me help cook, which is no problem. Since I am such a good cutter, I peeled and cut a squash for squash soup, and some vegetables as well. I also cut my thumb deeply with a small paring knife (always cut away from yourself), and my ring finger medium-deeply with a large chopping knife. Later on, while telling my wife about it and simultaneously coring a pear, I stabbed myself in the ring finger.

I also went for a long bicycle ride because I thought maybe some exercise would straighten me out. I rode until my penis and testicles fell asleep, then turned around and rode home, about one hour in all.

Looking at pictures of my America trip last night with Beta, it occurred to me that I scowl in every one of the pictures, nearly. Scowl, squint or have a double chin or a crooked face. But mostly scowl and squint. And out on the bicycle today, I noticed I squint all the time. It has nothing to do with needing glasses. I'm trying to figure it out. Alpha's theory is I'm a cranky old man. The age of 50 is approaching me like a truckload of pig entrails speeding downhill toward a nursery-school tea party with no brakes in short, hot pants but I don't think that's it. I don't know. You'll be the first one I tell if I figure it out. I concentrated on not scowling, and my face enjoyed the attention.

Alpha and I leave on a night train to Venice tonight, to celebrate the 25^th anniversary of our first kiss. We not only found a hotel room despite Film Festival hijinks, I even accidentally got us upgraded by mentioning that it was our "25^th anniversary".

Alpha knows exactly what she wants to do. She wants a cup of coffee at the Danieli and she wants to visit St. Mark's Cathedral no matter how long the line is. And I for once also know exactly what I want to do: I want to wander around aimlessly and get totally lost, which is one of my favorite things to do, as those of you who have visited me in Vienna are aware. Venice is a very nice city to do that in, as long as you haven't just watched "Don't Look Now".