Friday, August 31, 2012

Sometimes You Just Have To Shut Your Eyes And Think Of Tarzan

Isn't funny how the melancholic will take the best days and turn them into sadness? I hate that about myself but I do it, nonetheless.

Which means, I suppose, I get something out of it, even if it is nothing more than the reassurance of familiarity, which is growing old, I have to say, which is losing its luster, I must admit, due to the fact that for the last few years at least, life has been mostly sweet for me if I am to admit the truth and I will.

Admit it.

Somewhere between this morning's walk and the early afternoon doldrums, I felt myself slip down into that place where the black dog faces me squarely and opens his red, toothy mouth and says something to the effect of, "Did you think I was gone entirely? No. I am still here, always, to tell you that your life, which, by the way, is creeping always ever closer to being over, has not amounted to much. There. Think about that." And he blinks his yellow eyes and lays down again and curls himself around my feet and leaves me heaving in disbelief.

Oh. Fuck you, you black dog.

Tomorrow I'm going to Wakulla Springs with my kids and grand kids and maybe I'll rinse myself off in that clear, pure water and maybe I'll hold my grandson's hand as we cruise down the river through the jungle to see turtles, to see birds, to see gators, to see fish, to see cypress trees that were here on earth a thousand years ago and the Spanish moss will drip from their branches and the man driving the boat will describe the turtles as "SOUP size" and call up Henry the Jumping Catfish over the huge bowl of the spring where 200 to 300 millions of gallons of water gush forth from the Florida aquifer every day and Owen will shiver at the sight of alligators and we may get lunch at the soda fountain or in the dining room of the beautiful old hotel where Old Joe, an alligator murdered and now encased in glass for perpetuity rests in the lobby and when we dip Gibson into the springs (a true Baptism in my belief) he will gasp at the coldness and be holy and wholly blessed.

And the black dog can go fuck himself, and the ghost of Johnny Weismuller will be our guide.

That's what I'm thinking tonight as bread rises. As the sun sets. As I am struggling but will wake up tomorrow and feel different and I know that's true.


  1. God, how I love you.
    That black dog has no business around you as you live one of the most worthy lives I know of - that's just my humble opinion.
    You save poor, wretched souls like me and many more and that is no easy task.
    Wrap you in my arms if I was there and raise a glass to that black dog.xx Enjoy your weekend away with family!

  2. These are all true.
    Shoo, black dog,

  3. Fie on the black dog. And vast love to you, mary darling, for telling the truth. You are precious to me.

    XX Beth

  4. You forgot the millions. 200 - 300 MILLIONS of gallons of water pump out every day. That is so much water.

    Hey, what time are y'all going?

  5. Not amounted to much? You're clearly using the wrong measuring stick. Throw it away. Instead ask your children. Ask Owen. Ask me.

  6. Fuck that dog. He left me sometime yesterday. He did. I am feeling better but it pisses me off that he is on your doorstep now.
    And you can tell that fucker that he is wrong about your life not amounting to much. Because everyday you bless me and give me courage to keep going. You along with others send your love to me and help me breathe. I love you, Ms. Moon. Don't forget to breathe. xo

  7. Johnny Weismuller could kick that black dog into next week. If he'd kick a dog, which I don't think he would.

    Seriously -- all things are impermanent, right? Us, our visits from the black dog, our joys and sorrows. It will all change in the next hour, day, year, decade. That's scary but comforting at the same time.

    I used to be so good at word verification but I swear Google has made it harder. I have to enter things two or three times now.

  8. I'm all for the dog fucking himself.

    Go dog go!

    Have a great time tomorr0w.
    xo m

  9. I think Cujo is relentless but love is infinite.


  10. The black dog visits me every once in a while and sometimes overstays his visit. I want to obliterate the black dog. I also want to tell you that the black dog is a stupid f'ing liar. If YOUR life has not amounted to anything, I might as well put myself down now. And while I'm at it, your being here has brought ME comfort and courage and joy and realism. I can only imagine what it has brought your close family and friends. If the dog is with you tomorrow, leave him to the alligators. I'm sending a hug. S. Jo

  11. what does he know? nothing, obviously, since just as obviously, your life has amounted to quite a lot.

  12. I know that the dog will go. The adventure to the swamp will chase the dog away.

  13. Ah yes. He stopped by for a while today. Just a brief 20 minutes or so, but still. I wish he hadn't.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.