AMERICAN LIFE

(In which a 44 year old American woman living in London muses over her life as an International Music Superstar and the constraints of fame, fortune and living in the Public Eye. Oh, and she raps.)


Do I have to change my name?
Will it get me far?
Should I lose some weight?
Am I gonna be a star?

I tried to be a boy.
I tried to be a girl.
I tried to be a mess.
I tried to be the best.
I guess I did it wrong,
It’s why I wrote this song.
This type of modern life isn’t for me.
This type of modern life isn’t for free.

So, I went into a bar
Looking for some good, see,
A little company.
I tried to find a friend.
It’s more easily said.
It’s always been the same.
This type of modern life is not for me.
This type of modern life is not for free.

American life (American life)
I live the American dream (American dream)
You are the best thing I’ve seen.
You are not just a dream. (American life)

I tried to stay ahead.
I tried to stay on top.
I tried to play the part
But somehow I forgot
Just what I did it for
And why I wanted more.
This type of modern life is not for me.
This type of modern life isn’t for free.

Do I have to change my name?
Will it get me far?
Should I lose some weight?
Am I gonna be a star?

American life(American life)
I live the American dream. (American dream)
You are the best thing I’ve seen,
You are not just a dream. (American life)

I tried to be a boy,
tried to be a girl,
tried to be a mess,
tried to be the best,
tried to find a friend,
tried to stay ahead.
I tried to stay on top.

Do I have to change my name?
Will it get me far?
Should I lose some weight?
Am I gonna be a star?

(Rap)
I’m drinking up a latte,
I get a double shot-te,
It goes into my body
and you know I’m satisfied.
I drive my Mini-Cooper
and I’m feeling super-duper.
You can tell me I’m a trooper
and you know I’m satisfied.
I do yoga and Pilates
and the room’s full of hotties
So I’m checking out the bodies
and you know I’m satisfied.
I’m diggin on the outside (dope)
looking good and feeling dope
And if all this can give me hope,
You know I’m satisfied.
I got a lawyer and a manager, an agent and a chef
Three nannies, an assistant and a driver and a jet
A trainer and a butler and a bodyguard or five,
A gardener and a stylist,
Do you think I’m satisfied?

I’d like to express my extreme point of view.
I’m not a Christian and I’m not a Jew.
I’m just living out the American dream
and I just realized that
nothing
is what it seems...

Do I have to change my name?
I’ve gotta be a star.
Do I have to change my name?

- Madonna


Answer Key: a) yes b)maybe c) no and d) how much more of a star could you be?


8:37:18 PM    sro home /

LOSE YOURSELF


Look.
If you had...one shot...or one opportunity
To seize everything you ever wanted, one moment,
Would you capture it...or just let it slip? (yo)

His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
There's vomit on his sweater already, Mom's spaghetti.
He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready
To drop bombs, but he keeps on forgetting
What he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud
He opens his mouth, but the words won't come out
He's chokin how, everybody's chokin now
The clock's run out, time's up, over, BLOAW!
Snap back to reality, oh there goes gravity
Oh, there goes Rabbit, he choked, he's so mad, but he
Won't give up that easy no, he won't have it, he
Knows his whole back city's ropes, it don't matter
He's dope
He knows that, but he's broke
He's so stacked that he knows
When he goes back to his mobile home, that's when it's
Back to the lab again yo
This whole rap shit
He better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass him

You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go (go)
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime (yo)
You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go (go)
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime (yo), (you better...)

His soul's escaping, through this hole that is gaping
This world is mine for the taking
Make me king, as we move toward a, new world order
A normal life is borin, but superstardom's close to post mortem
It only grows harder, only grows hotter
He blows it's all over, these hoes is all on him
Coast to coast shows, he's known as the globetrotter
Lonely roads, God only knows
He's grown farther from home, he's no father
He goes home and barely knows his own daughter
But hold your nose cuz here goes the cold water.
These hoes don't want him no mo, he's cold product.
They moved on to the next schmoe who flows
He nose dove and sold nada
So the soap opera is told and unfolds
I suppose it's old pahtner, but the beat goes on
Da da dum da dum da da

You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go (go)
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime (yo)
You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go (go)
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime (yo), (you better...)

No more games, I'ma change what you call rage
Tear this mothafuckin roof off like 2 dogs caged
I was playin in the beginning, the mood all changed
I been chewed up and spit out and booed off stage
But I kept rhymin’ and step right in the next cypher
Best believe somebody's payin’ the pied piper
All the pain inside amplified by the fact
That I can't get by with my 9 to 5
And I can't provide the right type of life for my family
Cuz man, these goddam food stamps don't buy diapers
And it's no movie, there's no Mekhi Phiffer, this is my life
And these times are so hard and it's getting even harder
Tryin to feed and water my seed, plus
Teetor-totter caught up between bein a father and a prima donna
Baby mama drama's screamin on and
Too much for me to wanna
Stay in one spot, another damn monotony
Has gotten me to the point, I'm like a snail
I've got to formulate a plot or I'll end up in jail or shot
Success is my only mothafucking option, failure's not
Mom, I love you, but this trailer's got to go
I cannot grow old in Salem's lot
So here I go it's my shot.
Feet fail me not this may be the only opportunity that I got

You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go (go)
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime (yo)
You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go (go)
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime (yo), (you better...)

You can do anything you set your mind to man.


- EMINEM

3:09:52 PM    sro home /

Roman Polanski! Wow, ok. I'm shocked but I thought this was coming after the Adrian Brody thing. "The Acadamy accepts this award on the behalf of Roman Polanski because he can't come to America due to rape charges. Feel free, however, to boo people who bash Bush."

Best Picture - Chicago. Hmm, isn't Micheal Douglas married to... hey, wait a minute. Ok, I got this one.

Well Chicago can certainly be said to have swept things. Who doesn't love a good musical? I ended up being 3 for 6 in my predictions. Not the worst in such an uncertain year. Steve Martin was funny minus all the costume changes and special effects. There weren't any major Fashion Moments. What was the point? Well, what's always the point when it comes to the movies? It's about making money and a few of these awards tonight are guaranteed to pack some more pockets. It's truth, it's justice, it's the American Way. It's the Academy Awards.
9:08:34 PM    sro home /

8.45 - Ok, I'm 2 for 4 with 2 left. Not great but not bad.

Screenwriting Awards, You;d think I'd be all like "Oh, the writers are so great" but I know what we see on the screen is nothing like what any writer wrote. The Pianist.. More kudoos for Roman Polanski. I smell a director Oscar coming. Original Screenplay goes to Pedro Almodovar for what is arguably his most hetro flick thus far. Co-incidence? I think not. We're here, we're queer and we make the movies you watch. I was jonesing for Todd Haynes but this works for me.
8:53:53 PM    sro home /

8.15 - Well you did it Nicole. You got past the Tom Cruise/pretty girl thing and kept pushing for parts outside of what we expected and isn't that the name of the game? You push yourselves and go somewhere humans haven't been before and you get a gold naked man for your effort. Congrats, you will never be Mrs. Tom Cruise again.

All of the old Oscar winners sitting on the bandstand was very "Hall of Presidents". This is part of the whole "Silver Anniversary" thing but it was weird. It reminded me of when they announce the contestants on the Miss America pagent. Why did Cloris Leachmen have baby's breath in her hair? Did she walk into a flower arrangement?
8:38:15 PM    sro home /

8.00 - Halle Berry : flawless. You know they usually announce Best Actress first. Adrian Brody!! Ok, I missed that one. I was going for the Nicholson. This was apparently a shock to everyone and I bet it leaves the Best Actress people a little shaken. He thanks his parents who are dew-eyed and then he choked up and then I teared up and well, there you go. Here's why we watch. His speech brought many to tears and the audience rose to give him the credit he deserved. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant. This may mean a surprise in Best Picture or Best Director, but we'll see.

BARBRA! You were like butter. I got it, you see yourself like some aloof socialite in a John Singer Sargent painting - the black lace, the neck choker. Ok, I'll bite.

OMG! Eminem won! They didn't even sing the song. I actually love "Lose Yourself". I DL'ed it last week. Well this will certainly add some kind of cred to his scattered career.

Peter O'Toole, honorary Oscar. The perfect speech.
8:13:29 PM    sro home /

7.40 - How much would I do Colin Ferrell? He has a blue pin on which at first I thought was the Mercedes Icon but turned out to be a peace sign. Note To Self: Great idea for Merch Tie-Ins.

I don't even like Bono but he does act like he's the coolest person, ever.

Geena Davis : "Monica Lewinsky - The Later Years." Another Chicago win.

Susan Sarandon : The Goddess Incarnate. She's the supposed Political Hotbed for Hollywood but she said more with her casual yet determined "peace sign" than many could in words. You go Girl. You rock.
7:45:02 PM    sro home /

7.15 - What are Diane Lane's earrings made of? They look like something Plumber-ish. Bowling For Columbine. Duh. Just the Acadamy's way of saying, well, guns aren't the answer.

Well Micheal Moore, tell us what you really think. Who were the people in the audience yelling "Boo" and "No!" ? Ben Affleck? Ed Woods? Micheal Douglas? Well it was certainly a sly move on Mr. Moore's part because he will now become part of Oscar History. If he had been saying "Pro-Bush" sentiments, what would have happened? Hypocrisy at it's sharpest.
7:30:22 PM    sro home /

7.00 - Julianne Moore hands out another Chicago win for Best Sound. You think these things don't matter but they do... to someone. LOTR wins another too.

Frida song with Frida Look-Alike®. There was also a burning bed in the Oscar Tornado on stage in case you missed it, signifying that, uh, I dunno. Something serious I'm sure.
7:12:51 PM    sro home /

I had been posting so it made sense time-wise but then I realized I maybe should be doing some "blog" consecutive time-posting or something, so I'm starting now at 6.43.

6.45 - I'm loving my champagne.

What's all that crap on Matthew McConneghey's lapel? A blue ribbon, a rose, a gardinia? It's like he's in the Floral Legion.

Kate Hudson : fabulous.

Renee Zellwegger : fabulous. No necklace or earrings.

Julie Andrews gets a standing ovation, I'm assuming for being an Old Hollywood Actress. Sound of Music - one of the best. I saw her on Broadway in Victor/Victoria and I was crushed. She was horrible.
6:54:32 PM    sro home /

5.00 PM - Living in LA during the Oscars is like living at the North Pole during Christmas. Everything in the city becomes about the event. I don't live near where the event takes place but I do live in an area where lots of the after-parties are held, so even getting home from the grocery store was an ordeal due to streets being closed off and traffic snafus. Ugh.

Bottle of bubbly at the ready, I'm looking forward to the whole thing not because I have any particular interest in the films nominated but because it's not looking at the War and that can only be a good thing.

All the brou-ha-ha about being "appropriate" and "low-key" has been spun into more P.R. Cotton Candy which has, if anything, merely elevated the self-importance of the event rather than deflect attention. Duh. This is Hollywood, babe. Hope you're wearing that understated Armani and not your Ballerina Duds. Grab a glass, have a seat. Let's watch the mirrors kiss.

5.35 - Steve Martin is funny and incredibly dry and spares noone. Good for him. The Gay Mafia, weight and age obsession, Robert Blake, Nick Nolte, money and flagrent self-promotion.

Cameron Diaz? Oh yeah, she was in Shrek. Spirited Away. Duh.

I sat next to Keanu Reeves in a burrito restaurant in NYC years ago, around when Private Idaho came out. I was surprised at how big he was. Matrix = Special Effects. LOTR. Duh.

Now even the commercials have credits. Beyonce Knowles as Carmen in a Pepsi commercial directed by Spike Lee. Just in case you wondered.

6.00 - Jennifer Connelly looks fabulous, No necklace was the perfect choice. Chris Connelly. I'm 1-for-1 e.g. Winner Picks.

Jennifer Lopez. Looking fabulous. Again, no necklace = understated and serious. First Chicago win. Tip to winner - Regular satin tie is a nice touch but does not go with a wing-tip collar.

Catherine Zeta-Jones is HUGE! Is this woman ever not pregnant? She and Queen Latifah are like twins. Huge black and white bosoms sheathed in black sequins. "We Just Move On" was written by Kander and Ebb just for the movie since none of the other songs qualified for a Movie Song. You have to give Ms. Douglas props for singing live in front of an audience.

6.20 - Micky Mouse as Woody Allen. Huh? I personally find this kind of thing creepy but hey, whatta I know? Winner's Best Acceptance Speech Line - "On behalf of the entire Chubb-Chubb's crew..." Just the way he said it smelled like Merchandise Potential.

Live Action Short Winners - Those wacky europeans. Open shirt suits on the man, weird red suit on another man. What will they think of next?

Second win for Chicago : Costume Design accepted by the winner who may be in the Ugliest Dress of the night. Some black macrame hammock over her prom dress. Huh?

6.30 - Paul Simon's song is not bad if a little sentimental. For The Wild Thornberries, an animated movie based on a Nickelodeon Cartoon. What happened to all the soundtracks that defined an era? Where are the "Sounds of Silence"?

Nia Vardolos for Best Make-Up. Huh? Oh yeah, all that Fat of the infamous Big Fat Greek was Make-Up. Longest Walk to the Podium Ever. Freida for the UniBrow.

Big Ol' Catherine Zeta-Jones wins for Chicago. I'm 2 for 2 in case you were wondering. I wanted to see her have the baby. At least break a little water for christ's sake.
5:21:26 PM    sro home /

YOU

I saw your picture on the internet. It’s odd to see pictures of someone you were lovers with on a website devoted to meeting men. The eyes I looked in hundreds of times now belong to a man who does things I’ll never be part of. It’s been years but you look the same. You didn’t lie about your age in your profile, you never did, and that’s an impressive feat. You write you are “stable and single” and teaching now. It all sounds so nice.

I was there when you weren’t so stable. I was there when you were a drug addict, hospitalized because crystal meth made you partial to strangers slapping you around. I was there when you tried to kill yourself in the pool of a Fire Island house. You called me from a pay phone during your brief stay in the Loony Bin. I was the one who worried about you when you’d dissappear for days and noone knew where you were. You had a Big Job, made lots of money. To lots of people you looked like the Poster Man and I got to see behind the scenes. Lucky me.

You were taking me to Europe, first class all the way, and the week before we left you went out and binged again. I’d had enough. I could not face spending two weeks with someone who lied so easily to themselves. I was tired of your friends looking the other way - “Oh everyone gets wild now and then” - while I listened to you drowning in fear, in pain, in the drugs you used to do what the Deep End couldn’t.

I was there when you were wallowing in shit. It pisses me off. I’m angry at me for investing time in a hopeless cause. I’ve learned to forgive myself because I was naive. I can control my feelings about myself but I can’t control my inability to forgive you.

Go on. Have fun. Great pics. See ya next lifetime.

4:04:06 PM    sro home /

HEAD OF STATE - Because White People dancing like Black People is funny. In 1982.

BOAT TRIP - Yeah, that about covers it. Boat Trip, War Movie, Black People. Just cut to the chase. Because Cuba Gooding Jr. could easily be a Black drag queen. Miss Fidelity Castration.

DREAMSCAPE - Because Bad Things happen in snow. The Shining, The Thing, duh.

VIEW FROM THE TOP - Austin Powers Lite. Give it up already. Because every movie with gratuitous women dancing becomes a hit. Witches of Eastwick, Boys in The Hood, duh. She won Best Actress? Uh, ok.
11:38:37 PM    sro home /

Can you hear the drums Fernando?
I remember long ago another starry night like this
In the firelight Fernando.
You were humming to yourself and softly strumming your guitar
I could hear the distant drums
And sounds of bugle calls were coming from afar.

They were closer now Fernando
Every hour every minute seemed to last eternally.
I was so afraid Fernando
We were young and full of life and none of us prepared to die
And I'm not ashamed to say
The roar of guns and cannons almost made me cry

There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando

Now we're old and grey Fernando
And since many years I haven't seen a rifle in your hand
Can you hear the drums Fernando?
Do you still recall the frightful night we crossed the Rio Grande?
I can see it in your eyes
How proud you were to fight for freedom in this land

There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though we never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando

There was something in the air that night
The stars were bright, Fernando
They were shining there for you and me
For liberty, Fernando
Though I never thought that we could lose
There's no regret
If I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando
Yes, if I had to do the same again
I would, my friend, Fernando...

- ABBA

10:35:58 PM    sro home /

BEES

It wasn’t John, it wasn’t her frustration with her life, it was the bees. She hadn’t found the hidden nest and now, everywhere she turned, was a bee. They seemed to meander aimlessly around the kitchen, not logically sticking to food. She would open the cabinet under the sink for Comet and there was a bee. She’d open a box of cereal and out would fly a bee like a small toy surprise. Once she even opened the fridge and there was a bee, drunkenly crisscrossing the lid on the butter.

She insisted noone kill them. John never gave them much interest anyway but when she was faced with squashing one or life, she chose life. To her they were just creatures trying to survive, do their job, get through their bee life. They were just doing what they could to get through their bee days. She felt them hover near the ceiling light, watching her and critiquing her dinner plans. She’d spread butter on her toast and and grasp the knife harder in righteous frustration. Who were they to judge her cooking? What did they ever do to help?

Once she found three of them huddling together on the window screen, their front legs twisting like the hands of villains. She looked out the window expecting thousands of bees flying towards her. Word’s out. Big bee party in the house kitchen! After she was dead, all they would remember was she was the woman with the bees. Were she to slide a knife in the toaster and die of electric shock, her last thoughts would be if she’d ever find the nest.

John came in for something to eat before school. A bee was on the fridge handle but he merely brushed it off and pulled the door, taking out a can of Diet Coke and a bagel. The bees hovered above asking it she was allowing soda at this hour. Doesn’t Diet Coke have that bad sweetener? Didn’t you buy orange juice?

She watched him flip thought the morning paper looking for comics while eating. No butter. No cream cheese. She studied him like a bug she’d found crawling on the lawn, with black shiny armor and menacing horns. She could find nothing that led back to her.

“Mom, I need some money.”

The bees dove and circled the scene like TV news with a car chase. She wished the bees could take her brain like nectar from a flower and climb inside of John to make honey. She would be doing her job correctly and the entire nest would praise her work.

“I just gave you a twenty.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

“I spent that. I need ten more for pizza after school. I get hungry.”

One bee had landed near her hand on the counter. It walked closer then away like a dog testing water. Perhaps it was a friend of John’s creeping up to remind her again how late she worked. She lifted her finger and the bee jumped back before slowly inching foward. It felt vibrations from her skin, the low humming leaking from the nest inside her head. Millions of bees circling around and buzzing like a neighbor’s chainsaw.

“You shouldn’t be eating pizza.”

She shook her head and the bees inside began swirling in a frenzy. Their weaving bodies formed a figure who was there but not there, pure Bee Energy. One who was home all the time, who shopped once for the whole week, who laid it’s Bee hand on John’s arm while listening to him talk about school. Outside she would pretend she was normal but inside her Bee Self constantly reminded her of who she couldn’t be.

She reached for her purse and it fell, loose change shooting out to spin in circles on the floor. The bees all arose and circled as well, surrounding her with things spinning out of control. She picked up her wallet and riffled through the green bills before setting a ten on the table.

John ignored the change on the floor and pushed back his chair and walked out. A bee landed on her thigh and she angrily slapped her leg, killing it but not before it stung her. She lifted her hand and it’s dead body fell to the linoleum. Where she’d been stung began to turn red and swell. The pain gave her an excuse to cry and tears began to well and drip down her face like honey from a comb.

She hid her face in her hands, not wanting the bees to see her this way. She’d failed the hive, she’d killed one of them. She took the morning paper and pushed the dead bee onto it before opening the back door and flinging it into the yard. The other bees accusingly ignored the open air and kept their distance.

She finally went to get ready for work, some of the bees lazily following behind her like pets. She heard the front door slam and John leaving for school. She sat on her bed and wondered what to do now that she’d been stung. What do people use to rid themselves of the tenderness, the pain? How do you hold still when you always feel them swarming around you like things you never get done?

Surrender, she thought, there’s no place to hide. The bees will always win.

3:01:17 PM    sro home /

25



SUPERMODEL ASSISTANT: Mr. President, the nuclear bomb has exploded.

POTUS: Well, where the fuck is it? You said to sit on the right and I could see it!

SA: Uh, that’s the left, Mr. President.

POTUS: Well if you were talkin’ on the right it would be, now wouldn’t it? !?. Laura, which side is the right?

LAURA: George, you can see the bomb.

POTUS: Don’t get all “pissy librarian” with me, missy. Looks good,. Now what?

SA: Well Sir, we should retaliate against the governments that plotted the bomb.

POTUS: Well I knew that. DUH! What’s going on? Let’s kill someone!

JACK BAUER: We thought you would want to approve our line of action, Sir.

POTUS: Whatever! Get scootin!

JB: We thought you might talk to the leaders Sir.

POTUS: Leaders, schmeaders! We all saw the fuckin’ bomb!

JB: Yes Sir, but this could be World War III.

POTUS: Lemme see. There was this one war, yeah. Was that the one with the Nazis, Laura?

L: Hold on, George. Let me look it up.

POTUS: Then World War II where we went to Golf. Yeah, I’m expectulating this could be three.

JB: This could only lead to disaster Sir.

POTUS: Well boo hoo hoo. This is WAR, boy! Now get me a picture of an a-rab. In one of those funny hats.

L: Now I do know those are called turbans.

POTUS: I don’t give a flying fuck what kind of car they drive! Skeedadle, all of you! I need to pensipate on this occasion.

L: Think, dear.

POTUS: I’m tryin’, hold on. Just give me a few hours.



10:36:36 PM    sro home /

SPRING


Before spring arrived, Bob’s ex-wife took their children and moved out of their house. They were two different creatures, he and she. She was like a raging storm while Bob was like the gutters that lined the roof. She was not kind to him and had filled Bob’s life with the force of her anger. While Bob suspected he was better off without her, it was a tough blow. When she left, the sudden emptiness of his house was a surprise. Bob had reached the age when things stopped coming and started going and he was unprepared for his life to feel so empty.

The events made Bob think. Bob thought about things alot and the sudden absence of people and plans left more room to wander. He walked through his house, through his garden, past the birdbath by the window where the showy birds preened and down to where water leaked from the end of the hose. There stood a ladder which he climbed and could see further than ever, like an empty lighthouse on a cliff. Bob looked over the fence around his house to other people’s yards. Here high above the ground, his life seemed far away and next to other buildings, his house was small indeed.

Bob collected ladders, building each one in his basement. His wife thought building ladders was a mindless task, each just a larger version of the last. To Bob, every ladder led to a place of it’s own and it’s measurements were unique. He leaned them against a wall in the basement like crutches waiting to help people walk. He’d compare their heights, each one proving how tall he’d been. He remembered he’d once been scared to climb but now each step filled him with pride at how high he’d gone. They were tall but not tall enough to see his sudden loss. Soon, Bob thought, he’d begin another ladder, one so tall he might never reach the top. Certainly that would be the last ladder he would build. It would stand so high his house would seem lost below him.

At night, Bob would walk down the garden and climb his ladder to look at the stars. Once he thought he saw another person perched on a ladder like him. He would have waved but was too scared to let go of his wooden seat. Instead he sat and wondered how many Ladder People walked through the streets never knowing about the others. They’d pass and nod while quietly carrying their secret heights.

The room where his children had lived was dark behind the shades. From his ladder, they were like blank screens of drive-ins at night. He’d looked at their photos until his memories became like snapshots. He thought of them looking out at him, their waves frozen mid-air. That night he gathered their pictures and sealed them in a box. In the basement, Bob slid the box under blankets his mother had given him, smoothing the worn cloth and wrapping himself in dusty warmth.

When he was sad, Bob took his grief to the top of his ladder where he nursed it like a bird with a broken wing. Perhaps closer to the sky he could teach it to fly again. He’d cry and his sobs would leap from his mouth before falling to earth in great lumps of pain. At the bottom of his ladder their bones would sink like dinosaurs into tar around him. His sorrow would harden, the land itself rising towards his perch above the flowers and grass.

When Spring came, his garden burst into leaves. His ladder stood from the bushes like the trunk of a dead tree. When he climbed now, it would creak and sway under his weight like the prow of a ship at sea. The lawn lapped the base and he set course by the stars above, hoping the sky would lead him home. On shore would be those he loved, waiting for his safe return.

Finally, when the lights around him all turned dark, Bob wearily came down step by step. Past the perennials, past the grass, his house was waiting. He folded his ladder and carried it over the porch and through the back door. He turned off the kitchen light and took the ladder to an empty room where he laid it down like a sleeping child. Another night, another Spring, another year, another day. Bob dreamt that night of his house and his garden. He dreamt of climbing and climbing before releasing his past from his cupped hands to fly away and vanish in the dark.

5:00:38 PM    sro home /