Today I walked home from work. Shortly after I departed my place of employment, I noticed that traffic had stopped. Suddenly. At the front of the stopped traffic was a pickup truck, followed closely -- so closely I figured it had rear ended the pickup -- was a minivan. I started to walk faster to see what was going on; I'm nosy like that. The driver of the pickup hopped out of his truck quickly and as he started pounding on the window of the minivan I realized it wasn't an accident. It was road rage. He pounded on the window and bellowed and gestured, his curly mop looking decidedly electric. When I realized how enraged he was, I decided to hang back, just in case he had a gun and opened fire. I don't think I would have thought that way before Swee'pea was born, but now I'm a mother, I have a reason to protect myself far more important than a simple instinct for self-preservation. I am a mother now. I can't play fast and loose with my life. Anyways, eventually the guy figured out that the other driver wasn't about to roll his window down and there was a growing line of traffic grumpily stopped behind them, all watching with interest, and he got in his car and drove away.
I picked up the stroller at home and walked to pick up Swee'pea from daycare. I passed a lot of people during this stretch through my neighbourhood. And nobody really made eye contact with me.
Do you look crazy if you walk around with an empty stroller? At least I didn't have a doll in it with creepy eyes rolling back in its head.
Actually one person made eye contact with me. I think it was Hawksley Workman. Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was, but I couldn't quite bring myself to ask... I once sort of interviewed him after a show when I reviewed his 1999 cd for the campus paper.
Speaking of Canadian musicians with falsetto capabilities, look what I found on youtube! It's a video of the Rheostatics' final performance of Record Body Count,which I described as feeling like a huge bush party singalong around a camp fire.
LOVE IT! (Yes, I'm still obsessing about the end of the Rheostatics...)
PS A woman who rarely returns my emails, finally returned an email today. Her closing words? "Hope the baby is good." She's been told Swee'pea's name several times; she just can't remember it. This pisses me off. Is that unfair?
Hello 2024
10 months ago
7 comments:
You know what looks really bizarre to me? When I see someone pushing a stroller with a little dog in it. But then I'm not a pet person. What I wonder is why the pet cannot walk on its own steam.
Some people do refer to "the baby" even when they know his or her name. I dunno. Could go either way on this.
I love Hawksley Workman. Any songwriter who can open a song like this is cool in my books:
"Look at those bastards looting the crash site.
Stealing the ring from your sweet little finger
that I gave to you whoa-oh-oh when we were married."
Oh, nice! That almost caught the final moment...almost.
Even more bizarre is the sight of me heading home after I have dropped littlegirl off at school and I get to carry home her dolly which I automatically carry like a real baby.
Or by it's neck.
Neither is good.
To never refer to your Swee'pea's name is a bit rude. She might be uncomfortable with it for some reason or she doesn't want to fully recognize your son. Either way that's not cool.
I've always thought that way about road rage and violence but I think it's because I watch too many movies.
That's funny - I got an email the other day from a long-lost friend, asking me how old "the other two" are, when she should know their names perfectly well. For non-parents, their often unaware of how insulting this is.
The baby. Hm. I was going to rant on your behalf, but then I read Slouching Mom's comment and now I'm not sure.
Road rage scares me.
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