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contours provocations
journal - 2001-0628 - thu 2000 In the Mail; Birds, Bridges and Omens; Ogledom; Dumbest Tuesday the mail arrived with an assortment of ads including a MM Cardpack which was full of offers for adult gay products. Colt, Shotgun Video, penis enlagement, erotic wrestling, "Joy Toy," Video Blow Out. BUT my favorite has to be Raging Stallion presents "Raiders of the Lost Arse." Yesterday on the way to work I saw three large white birds in the distance lazily gliding across the sky. Although the clouds behind them were dark, they were highlighted by the sunlight coming from the east. They almost appeared to glow in the air, and if you did not watch carefully, you would almost think they were floating. I watched until they disappeared and wondered if my sighting was an auger of sorts. In college, I used to cross a railroad bridge, and whenever I saw birds skimming in the air currents underneath, I felt that it was a good omen. This was a period of intense turmoil for me, so I somehow found their presence to be reassuring. As though some act of communion was taking place. Now that I think of it, I believe that Quentin Compton in Faulkner's "The Sound and the Fury" frequently treads such a bridge at Harvard. And kills himself by jumping from it. Oddly enough the bridge I crossed and the college I attended were in Faulkner's hometown. I feel that I'm drifting toward recollections of that period, and I don't want to do that. Far too many unpleasant memories. This morning, I had another of those fleeting moments of ogledom at Burger King. These are brief period in which I try to surreptitiously ogle someone who has caught my attention. The "oglee du jour" was slim, wearing khaki cargo shorts, slighly-battered running shoes, white socks and a white polo. Suntanned skin. And beautiful, slicked-back black hair with glints of silver. A very attractive man. As I went out I noticed he was driving a black "jeep" with the sides and top down. There was something about his body language that told me he may have been aware of my presence. I really must be careful with what I'm doing. Monday, I stopped at the ATM machine and said, on the spur of the moment, to a guy just leaving, "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Bono of U2?" He managed to fluster out a "No," as he quickly got into his car, frantically locking the door. What on earth was I thinking? Trying to chit chat with a guy at an ATM machine is not necessarily a good idea. And I've done this type of thing before. Knowing how reserved I am, I have no idea why. But sometimes, I'm so totally convinced of my own engaging wit and endless charm that I'll do the dumbest fucking things. PAX!
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