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RUDIMENTS 1141.

RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,141
(a real dead-end roulette)
Evanescent never meant
anything to me. The whole
world in a sense, is that. One
time I said something like
that to someone I knew, and
the response was curious  - 
because I couldn't connect
it to anything, and it was
completely untrue besides.
What he'd said was, 'You're
the type of guy, right, who,
before he does anything,
looks it up first and reads
all about it.' Now, the
current Internet age makes
that maybe have a little
sense, but when he said this
it was 1967 and all it meant
was books and look-ups in
that old, musty, scholastic
manner. I thought it was a
very odd comment. Still do.
But, it having never left
me, it now often crops up,
mentally, as I'm reading
about something or  -  yes  -
looking up something.
-
Is that a fundamental misread
of life? Was there something
about me that made such a
manner evident? In actuality,
I never did anything of the
sort he mentioned, which
led to problems and mistakes -
for instance, a brake job, say,
done blindly. Learning on the
job is cool, yes, but learning a
brake job 'on the job' on your
own vehicle can be awfully
chancy. I never even referred
to a Chilton's or a Floyd
Clymer (two notable names
of 1960's repair manuals).
-
One time I had a car that needed 
a part  -  it was an odd car, and
an odd part. Once again, it was
to be learning on the job. I 
determined what I needed,
through the JC Whitney catalogue,
(back then Whitney's was a crazy
and cheap catch all for all sorts
of auto parts, and gimmicks too,
out of Chicago, started long ago
by some Warshefsky guy, I think.
Besides parts and gee-gaws, they
had weird things, like pour-in fluids
that claimed you'd get 100 miles
per gallon, long-life miracle oils
and lubricants; things like that)
and got myself down to Charlie's
Sugar Bowl  -  which was a sort
of candy store and fountain place
at the corner of Avenel Street and'
St. George Avenue. It had a bank
of phone booths, wooden ones, at
the rear. I took a handle of change
and quarters, and dialed Chicago,
but the Whitney people, placed my
order, and in some number of days
had what I needed. I went at it,
again without looking anything up,
and it worked. It began me to 
thinking about things of that nature:
We all walk  through storms; some
need perfect directions about how
to walk through gales, counter the
wind, stay the course. Others just
do that. I was in the latter category.
So I never knew where this person
had gotten his comment from  -  
some sort of observation about me,
or a personal impression garnered 
from, well, from 'what' I didn't
know. Strange how we can be
misrepresented.
-
I've always gotten annoyed, as
well, by  the way things move
around on me. Keys get lost,
combs, even hats. I obviously
have, for this to happen, too many
things to keep track off and a now
slightly failing old-mind which
often simply takes longer to 
retrieve things, more time for 
the memory of names and places.
I often fault the Human Creator
for things like that, after my years
and years of church and school
crap pushing all that 'ordered
universe' stuff  -  yet having it
dis-proved at any moment by the
breakdown-anarchy of old life. 
Lot's of items: Why do teeth  cease
regenerating? A new set every five
or six years would be a big help.
All that calcium and stuff through
the body's system, a few loose teeth
a year, and replacements growing in.
That would seem pretty sensible to
me. Eyes that start failing? That's
certainly a flaw. Any number of
the shortcomings of the system
as aging progresses, seems to me,
could have been better designed to
produce a finer product than the
jumble-heap of broken bones we
end up with. Or is the story all
wrong  -  we were never meant to
be a mirror of God, not made in 
Its image at all. Where does 
perfection end? Why were we
not equipped with it, so as to better
attain the hopes, acts, and aspirations
we're supposedly created for? 
Were we designed for the
doomsday within us?
-
Certainly then, if so, life's a crummy
deal and the Maker couldn't have been
so hot after all.
-
I get sore about a million things, really
sore. My dog has to die? Now? Why?
All that love and affection, down the 
drain. Wife, family, friends  -  always 
at a half-distanced removal; to me
that's painful and makes no sense. If
I'd been God, I'd have had a blissful
and complete understanding between
people, each person, through the simple
eye contact of being together. And a
perpetual-motion adherence between
people, of good things and a sort of'
blissful love or concern for each other  -  
most certainly then we'd have no need
of wars and revolutions, or the miserable
wrecks of banditos in the streets like we
have right now. maybe there'd even not
be a word, then, for 'destruction.' I
never did get what God was about, and
that always pained me dearly too.
When you set out to learn something,
you never really learn anything. When
someone sets out to teach you something,
they teach you nothing at all. It's all
a  negativity; a real dead-end roulette.

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