Balance
Throughout the day, I use the social skills I have to try to make others more comfortable. Come the evening, I need some balance.
I'm sure I could learn to appreciate speed metal, but loud angry noise is simply inconsiderate. Anyone can be inconsiderate. To disturb with psychological nuance, to be artfully antisocial, takes more skill. Ear to the floor, I keep a journal of the downstairs neighbors' conversations, the more mundane the better:
6:14 P.M.
"What do you want for dinner, honey?"
"Meatloaf, kitten."
(me stifling laughter -- kitten meatloaf...)
The next day arrives. I go to work. I come home. I take out the journal, a microphone, and the only musical instrument I own: a triangle. I open the journal and ring the triangle:
Trinnnnnnng.
It's exactly 6:14 P.M.
"What do you want for dinner honey," I shriek into the microphone.
"Meatloaf, kitten," I bellow.
(me stomping about, giggling uncontrolled)
Balance.
I'm sure I could learn to appreciate speed metal, but loud angry noise is simply inconsiderate. Anyone can be inconsiderate. To disturb with psychological nuance, to be artfully antisocial, takes more skill. Ear to the floor, I keep a journal of the downstairs neighbors' conversations, the more mundane the better:
6:14 P.M.
"What do you want for dinner, honey?"
"Meatloaf, kitten."
(me stifling laughter -- kitten meatloaf...)
The next day arrives. I go to work. I come home. I take out the journal, a microphone, and the only musical instrument I own: a triangle. I open the journal and ring the triangle:
Trinnnnnnng.
It's exactly 6:14 P.M.
"What do you want for dinner honey," I shriek into the microphone.
"Meatloaf, kitten," I bellow.
(me stomping about, giggling uncontrolled)
Balance.
posted by JMH | 7:19 PM
8 Comments:
Communication is a form like anything else, with it's two sides, it's happy opposites, it's sane and absurd.
If there's a right thing to say at any given right time, there must too be a right time for a wrong thing to say, as well.
This here is beautiful. People aren't usually honest about their fears; at least you give them something honestly fearful.
So scream some more, and then more still. Gotta give the madness a voice before it's YOU that hears the madness screaming down from the floor above.
~ Driz
So you're the man upstairs. We all know one. You evil bastard.
I don't know if my mind is supposed to bend that way, Driz.
Yes, jorg, I live upstairs, but still beneath The Man Upstairs, who can be kind of a bastard himself.
meatloaf - Fleischlaiberl in Austrian - spelling: fliesh-lie-bearl
Now when I go to an Austrian restaurant, I'll be able to read one thing on the menu -- and that's all I'll need.
Now you know what to give them for Christmas -- a basket full of kittens and some bread crumbs. Yum.
That's a pretty good idea. It might be rude to give them live kittens, though. I don't want to create work for them.
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