http://skreemr.com/link.jsp?id=625F4B55565E6B&artist=Thed%C3%B8&title=On%20My%20Shoulders

Molly and Paul are enjoying eachother’s company at their favorite cafe. They have a palpable chemistry and make a handsome couple.

Molly: (laughing) So the more I laughed, the more I snorted and the sound of my snort just made me laugh even harder. I could tell my professor was horrified.

Paul: But your snorts are so charming.

Molly: I guess they can’t take off points for snorting because I got my critiques back today and I got an A!

Paul: Molly that’s great! Well, you’re through the worst of it now. Wait, has Jenkins done his Marx impersination yet?!

Molly: No. Is it funny?

Paul: Well, he thinks it is. (doing a purposely bad German accent) “While the miser is merely a capitalist gone mad, the capitalist is a rational miser.”

They both laugh at his impression of an impression.

Paul: Hey, just let me know when I can help you study for that final.

Molly: (contemplative) Two impoverished MBAs. What is to become of us?

Their eyes connect.

Paul: (summoning the guts to say something bold) Well, actually Molly I wanted to talk to you about…

Molly’s phone beeps and she looks at it.

Molly: Oh good!

Paul: What?

Molly: Goose is here.

Paul: (not enthusiastic) Great.

A slightly older, uglier, stupider, balder, grubbier guy with a unibrow walks in and sits next to Molly.

Molly: Hey you!

Goose: Hey Dollface! Oh, now what do we have here?

Goose takes an uncomfortable amount of time removing a stray eyelash from Molly’s face. Molly is submissive and grateful. In the process, her makeup is considerably smudged. She stares into Goose’s eyes adoringly.

Paul: (indicating the smudge on her face) Umm, Molly.

Molly: (Snapping out of a transe) Sorry, what?

Paul: Nevermind. So Goose, how’s the parking business working out for you?

Goose: Funny you should ask Pete, they just transfered me to the booth right smack on I-90. Biggest tolled interstate in the state.

Paul: Wow.

Goose: Yeah, so we get pretty busy. It only took me two and a half years to get there.

Molly: How’s Molly?

Goose: Oh he’s doing good. Yeah, almost house trained.

Paul looks confused.

Molly: Goose named his bloodhound after me.

Paul: (trying to feign sincerity) That’s… neat.

Goose: How ’bout you Pete…

Paul: It’s Paul actually.

Goose: Sorry Paul. How’s your um… wait I remember…

Paul: Internship? It’s going great actually, they just offered me a full-time position.

Molly: (in shock) Paul! That’s great!

Goose: Welcome to my world Paul, congratulations. You’re a working man now.

Molly: Why didn’t you tell me?!

Paul: Well, I was waiting for the right time to… Molly, today I kinda wanted to talk about us.

Goose: Let ‘er rip Pete, what’s on your mind?

Paul: (getting impatient) Well, Goose, I was actually referring to Molly and me.

Goose: Wait a sec… Molly, be honest with me – is something going on between you and Pete?

Molly goes flush as the two guys stare at her, waiting for a response.

Molly: Okay, well it was gonna come to this sooner or later. Goose… Paul… I’ve been seeing both of you for the past three months.

Paul: Two months, three weeks and four days actually. Since our first date.

Molly: See and that’s why this is so hard for me because Paul, you are so conscientious and sweet like that. You’re smart, funny, responsible, we have so much in common. You have a beautiful personality and I am definitely attracted to you physically… But then there’s you Goose. You’re so… it’s hard to explain, wait I wrote it down the other day…

Molly goes through her purse, retrieves a small notebook and starts searching the pages.

Molly: (cont.) There’s a word that perfectly describes this one… attribute… oh here it is – cogent.

Goose and Paul: Cogent?

Goose: What does that even mean?

Molly: (reading from her notebook) Convincing or believable by virtue of…

Paul: (finishing her definition) …clear and logical presentation, yeah yeah. Goose? Cogent? Really?

Molly: Well, you haven’t seen his cogent side.

Paul: What, so I’m not cogent enough for you?

Molly: No, you’re plenty cogent it’s just… Goose is cogent, you know, it’s like he epitomizes cogency.

Goose: Yeah, I can see that.

Molly: You guys, these past few months have been amazing, I’ve been happier than I can ever remember being. It’s like… both of you put together make the perfect man.

Paul: Okay so let me get this straight… I have the looks and the brains and the personality, and he’s…

Goose: Cogent. Weren’t you paying attention?

Paul: Cogent.

Molly: Paul, I would appreciate it if you could try to be understanding. I know this must be hard for both of you…

Goose: Not really.

Molly: …but I really, I just don’t know what I’d do if I lost either one of you. What do you think?

Paul: What do I think about what?!

Molly: I just want us all to get along and be happy. I don’t want anything to change.

Goose: I’m cool with happy.

Paul: Molly, you’re going to have to choose one of us.

Molly: (sigh of frustration) I hoped it wouldn’t come to this.

Paul: Yeah, well that’s just how it has to be. I mean we have needs too, don’t we Goose?

Goose is trying to get pepper in the salt shaker through the little holes.

Goose:  Come again?

Paul: Well I have needs. Molly, I really like you and I need to know if this is going somewhere.

Molly: And you Goose?

Goose: (cogently) My dear, the time has come to choose.

Molly: (to Paul) You see? So cogent.

Paul: Well?

Molly: I need some time to think things through…

Beat

Molly: (cont.) Okay Paul. I choose you Paul.

Paul sighs and then laughs with relief.

Molly: I’m sorry to put you through all that Goose.

Goose: (looking unaffected) No biggy. Well, I guess I’ll leave you two love birds alone.

Molly: No wait! Goose, I choose you!

Paul and Goose: Really?!

Molly: (breaking down) Yes please don’t go! I can’t imagine my life without you!

He sits back down and she grips his arm.

Molly: (crying) Watching you start to walk away I just… I felt so empty!

Paul: Oh this is ridiculous!

Paul storms off.

Molly smiles and cuddles up against an uncomfortable Goose.

Molly: Oh Goose, let’s run away together. Let’s go somewhere exciting.

Goose: (checking his watch) Actually, I need to stop by the laundromat before someone steals my whites again.

Molly: That sounds wonderful! Goose?

Goose: Yes?

Molly: Say something cogent.

Goose: Using starch to iron your whites depletes the ozone layer.

Molly lets out an infatuated sigh.

Sorrow is as thin as an electric mandolin

And the moon is as round as a banjo.

                 -Greg Brown

This is a landfill. I went on a tour of one this weekend and learned all about the way we bury our trash.
We all throw things away every day but it’s pretty surreal to see where “away” actually is. I think I always felt like it just disappeared—the garbage truck came with its noisy claw, jostled the trash from our curbside cans and then it all just blinked conveniently out of existence. Modern systems of convenience have a way of engendering those feelings in people. Obviously, at some level, we know that’s not how it really works, but rarely do we bother to follow every-day life processes to their logical end. We live lives of comfortable in-betweens—rarely concerning ourselves with the beginnings or ends of the things around us. We buy pre-packaged food—poptarts, frozen dinners, canned soups—without giving a second thought to where this food began. Who grew the individual ingredients? How is it that they came together in such handy little packages? And food is just one example: every object, every article of clothing, every commercial good began somewhere. And that which is not directly consumed, or actively used is going to end up somewhere someday. It is only logical. Matter is neither created nor destroyed.

I didn’t realize that such a simple truth could be so jolting. As we hopped out of the jeep and walked out over the vast landfill I kept glancing around at every bottle and every box peeking from the dusty earth, wondering if perhaps my trash and I were experiencing an unexpected reunion. I imagined it all rising from the earth and haunting me like a zombie. The un-dead, the un-disappeared. whispering: I am still here.
It’s an interesting yet eerie thought isn’t it?

Another unexpected feature of the dump were all of the birds. Hundreds and hundreds of seagulls crowded the landscape, taking off in a frenzy as our cars approached.
We ran out to greet them—pressed ourselves flat to the ground and lay still in hopes that they would settle back down around us. They didn’t, but we laughed and got our backs dirty and talked about what it feels like to know you are laying atop 80 feet of compacted waste.
Anyways apparently the dump is the hit hangout for food scavenging—those birds really know where it’s at. Our tour guide told us that Stouffers alone hauls in batches of botched noodles by the ton. Every single day. I forget the exact number, but it was mind-boggling to think of that many tons of noodles go to waste on a daily basis.
We dreamed briefly of a Patch-Adams-esque noodle-filled swimming pool experiment. But then we got a good whiff of the rotting noodles and changed our minds.

I am still sorting through my thoughts about the whole experience. Overall it was nice to become more aware of the systems I utilize and depend upon. I am obviously thankful that I live in a place and time where such convenient and efficient services are provided for me—but I also think it’s important not to take them for granted. I think there is value in being conscious of both beginnings and of ends. If we are not conscious, thoughtful, and even critical of the systems we partake in then we will become stuck in a state of stagnancy and decay. There should always be room for positive change. This applies in more than one realm: systems of agriculture, waste removal, energy, politics. It extends to the houses we live in, the clothes we wear, the food we eat.
I am still learning every day, and most of the time I don’t even know where to begin…But it is my hope that we can all try to live a little more deliberately and humanely. Leading lives dictated by love and striving to avoid waste and excess as much as possible.

Lullaby Mountain

Her name is Alley.

It’s not short for Alexis or Alexandra.

Alley, like the space between buildings.

Where smells assemble.

To vote.

Mai neim is Koto Peitamaan. Thee abuv imej iz uv utmost importans tu mai peepl. Mai posting it on thee internet ov yor wurld iz tu inshoor its survival. It musnt bee hidin, for al pasibl haiding pleises ar shur tu bee chekt first and ar most laikly thee eezee-est tu deestroi. It iz hawever yusles withaut thee abilitee tu reed it. Altho it is nat laiklee yor maindz wil bee ceipabl ov understending auer lenguej thee danjr uv reemeining sailent iz tu greit.

Wun uv thoz hu reed this mesej wil sun bee chozen.

Check this out!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A._S._Neill

The sixteen-year-old slouched in the back of the bob sled.  Alone.

He glanced toward the pavilion and saw coach Odbayar vehemently miming some new pushing technique. Apparently, the three boys who constituted the GOHS bob sled team were not taking full advantage of the virtues of the shoulder.

Although Abe was technically the fourth member of the team, he never considered himself as such. His value to the team lay solely in his peculiar body which, though a perfect fit in the tiny sled, weighed as much as a linebacker. All he had to do was take a few steps and jump in and they were sucked down the icy shoot like a turd down some fridged toilet.

Truthfully, they could’ve pushed with their elbows and still managed to beat every high school in the state easily considering the good 30 extra pounds they had on even the bulkiest teams. Yet there they were, on a freezing Saturday morning, watching a spunky Mongolian man demonstrate the untapped power of the shoulder.

All members of the Goldberg family had to play one sport and one instrument. Abe’s sport was sitting in a frozen turd. After years of expensive lessons with no musical fruits to speak of, his dad bought him the only instrument that he could figure out: a video camera. And he was happy.