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The Refreshingly Normal Nephew
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Conversations
- Hits: 1337
The nephew calls, it's been a month, 6 weeks even, he's got stories...
Like how he got a job at Wal-Mart in Cochrane for a few days, only the 15 year old 200lb 5' tall autistic kid didn't like how he was working so complained to the manager, this deaf-mute, who promptly began to tell the Nephew off, only the Nephew couldn't understand as he's a new immigrant who doesn't speak English that well, and the deaf-mute guy, well, you know, his English wasn't so good either, and in the end the Nephew quit, wasn't his sort of thing, he really wanted to meet cute girls but there wasn't any there, all just marginal people, disabilities, new immigrants, etc, and I think to myself "Welcome to Corporate Canada in the 21st Century".
And, hanging up, I realize how much I miss him, I mean, he's now the most normal person I know...
A Batsh*t treasure map...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1254
The below polaroid depicts a treasure map where Batsh*t and Lauren Bacall buried a treasure...enough there for a good down payment on the Taj Mahal...if only we can find the place in the photo...he can't rightly remember exactly where but it's somewhere in the Sahara...
Dido, the Published Author
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1190
Dido the Author in again, little photocopied copies of his book for sale, a "hand-colored" black and white bad illustration of a mountain, sea, and sun on the cover, he's colored it in with highlighter, the whole collection of 3 short stories runs maybe 28 half pages, he's typed the text but hand-numbered the pages, so 15 8X11 pages all told and he's charging $12.50. He'd been in before, I'd expressed interest, he's calling me out on it, now is not the time, there's not a dime to spare, I've been half-supporting BatSh*t, not him now as well, but he's only got the single book (a half-dozen copies), and so he waits and writes and reads books and plays on his laptop while I work the 3 hours it takes to afford it, buy a copy...
The whole time he's only drunk a glass of tap water, he's squatting our cyberspace, he's pleased I bought the book, in two years this makes almost a dozen he's sold, and now he's telling me about the other books he's going to write, a book about how to write books, a book on how to be a waiter (and he wants my advice, and I want so badly to tell him he'll find service improves greatly when he starts becoming a customer, but I don't...), so many books to write, he's low maintenance, conversations are short, I have other customers and I pretend to be busy with them...
...finally, the last hour he's had the place to himself, he gets the hint, we should get together, hang out, we could collaborate on a book, I could help him with his webpage, I've got my own creative projects I tell him, don't need this collaboration, "like what...?" he asks, then guesses writing, and - now, being a published author these past 2 years, he lords it over me..."Let me give you some advice...3 pieces...the second is...um..." and he's thinking, confused..."...um...just write whatever you want...and don't feel you have to start at the beginning, anywhere will do...and...well, I'll think about the rest..."
He wants to write a book on how to write a book, remember.
***
I read the book when I get home, it's about his kayaking adventures off the Haida Gwaii, Queen Charlottes', only there isn't any adventure, it's more about how he felt, about how he talked with the Sea Lions "Arrr Arrr Arrr" and there's a lot of that and then there's the telepathy with the whales, and there's the feelings of wonder, of loneliness, of man's place in the universe, it's like an even worse version of "Jonathan Livingston Seagull", if you can imagine, imagine it written by a lonely middle aged guy in a Kayak with the mental age of a developmentally delayed 12 year old and you have the idea. He paid an editor, 6 weeks it took them, not very well, proper editing would have had it tossed into a fireplace and one's hands warmed in front of it for the 30 or 40 BTU's it would have been worth...it'll be a fine Xmas gift for someone I haven't met yet I'm sure...That said, he's a "published author" and I gotta get off my ass while there's still time...
Vulcan at his forge
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1590
Vulcan, the blacksmith, in his forge, a sooty, greasy, black and white saturnine face I can almost recognize, wide, passed it on the highway to Nelson, now I've stopped, I want to grab my camera, he's hammering and twisting a piece of metal, and while he's huge he's using a small ordinary hammer, his arms aren't what I expect, and when I ask about the great hammers blacksmiths usually use he sighs, yes, but he doesn't any more, and he gets me to move the piece of twisted and flattened rod over to a large model of a plane, he wants it set on top, it will hold the windshield...
...Upstairs from the garage, a warm house, older, from an imagined childhood, a younger man, maybe 50, and his father, 70ish, and a child, running about, there's something wrong with the child, autistic, maybe, but he's taken to me, and they ask me if I speak English, well, I tell them, well enough, French? Not so Well, Italian? Only curses, and they confer among themselves, the little autistic kid is running around touching everything, looking for batteries, there are none, and I offer to drive him down to the local store, take him by his hand...
...wet, dark outside, leaving by the front door we walk over 2 big old doors set into the front stoop, root cellar, and I want to lift them, see what's downstairs, in the basement, the boy doesn't know, we carry on...drive down to Balfour, town, Balfour not Balfour, Balfour with a bunch of inviting cosy old restaurants on the top of a hill on this rainy Kootenay evening, people inside, we find the store-not-Balfour store, get him his battery, I want to go in to the restaurant, have a bite to eat, but I've got to get this kid home, I have a feeling they have a proposition for me, teach the kid English, better English, and maybe I can fill in the gaps in my finances...
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