Distracted By The Carnival

 

Despite his best intentions, the old man found himself in conversation with a neighbor.  These people watch from behind blinds and curtains and then leap out like they work for Cirque du Soleil. 

We’re going to have to do certain things that were frankly unthinkable a year ago.

She was just back from a cruise.  The old man wondered if her hair color occurred in nature.  Puffy slippers the color of smugged lipstick.  She had pictures right there in her blue bathrobe, right with her cigarettes.  Dinner at the Captain’s Table.  She showed a photo of a hand-crafted glass lighting fixture hanging above the entry of the grand ballroom.  Piece of art.  Hovering like some rainbow UFO.

He asked because it seemed like the thing to do.  Is that a Chihuly?  No.  She looked at the old man with disdain.  It’s a chandelier.  This is the same lady who told him her ex-husband was a chronological liar.   Apparently,  if you can keep your lies in order, doesn’t mean you won’t get caught.

Which is why he tried not to talk to any of them.  He might tell the truth, say something honest and that wouldn’t go over so, well, neighborly.

The old man didn’t feel much neighborly.  Part of the problem, he and the young redhead had been binge-watching The Wire and he had  gone so deep into it, dove down into the middle, he had that kind of mind, he was starting to sound like a black player on a street corner, the West side of Baltimore.  A’ight?  That shit so sweet, yo.  The old man could actually understand what Bodie and Poot were talking about.  Snoop, not yet not always.  You feel me?

Certain things will be done that we never thought would happen in this country.

Half the neighbors weren’t his real homies.  They were snowbirds, sissies who could neither stand the cold nor the heat.  The old man was something of a reptile himself.  Anything much under seventy-three degrees and he was reaching for a pullover.  He had a blue chambray shirt with a photo of bearded brooding Hemingway on the back above the words COURAGE IS GRACE UNDER PRESSURE.

Bought that shirt at Hog’s Breath Saloon in Key West on one of his honeymoons.  That town used to be about his most favorite place on Earth.  When he was young.  What’s the point of paying top dollar for a party that goes all night when you never stay up past eleven?  The old man now got the best room on Cedar Key and drank on his private deck.  On the water, pelican-high.

It’s not a digression if you started out with nothing in mind.

Distracted by the carnival.

We are going to have to do things that we never did before.  And some people are going to be upset about it.

The old man was one of them.

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