Say ‘Nay’ to the Reaper – Sunset Observer #39, By Whitney Farmer – Un Pop Culture | @MDWorld

November 26, 2014 Whitney Farmer 1 Comment

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It’s Monday, and hopefully my Dad will recognize me today.

The drive south on Pacific Coast Highway to the hospital was standard and the view astonishing. Santa Ana winds are coming in and the boys of summer have all gone home. What is left is paradise if a person would just take the time to notice it.

Stopped at a light, I envied the long hair of a surfer girl until she turned around and I saw that she was a dude.  And I noticed a guy in a luxury car and wanted to tell him somehow that – with the light streaming through his sunroof – everyone could see him picking his nose.

Everywhere, plants are putting out invitations to procreate before winter falls upon us.  Drought-resistant varieties are the most obvious, obviously. I suppose that they live life on the edge. Some strain of yucca or aloe that are used as municipal landscaping along the road and on traffic islands push out expansive three foot tall…umm…pollen repositories that you think might dent your car as you drive by them. It would be obscene if it wasn’t so brave. The Cycle of Life and…ummm…the opposite of Life…The radio played the Go-Gos…

“…beneath the blue sky, we’re all alone together…”

Today, I broke up with the boy who had kissed me on the cheek and ran away when we were children, who had grown up into a golden man, the one who had fallen in love with me when I had come to the funeral of his sister and had waited for me for years.

What is probably the last fight happened while I waited in an hour long line to buy an old fashioned bag of meat for Thanksgiving, standing in the hot sun under the palm trees. It started when he was hurt because I hadn’t texted him xoxo enough because the intensive care unit requires everyone to turn off their cell phones. Telemetry interference. Electronic waves make hearts beat in different ways. Whether from love talk that makes the heart pound or from crash carts that make a flat line start to wiggle again, it’s all good and worth the jolt.

I told him that he was able to hurt me from the comfort of his recliner, and to enjoy his Lazy-Boy. No offense, Lazy-Boy. He had told me that as of that moment, he hates red hair forever.

At the hospital, my Dad recognized me again. And he told his wife of 59 years (our Mom) that – if he perseveres – he can be a better husband to her. Mom had told me that she had been alarmed when he had grown silent and stared at her. She checked his monitors and then asked him if he was having another episode. He said, “No. I just can’t believe how beautiful you are.”

His recollection of his most difficult night was that he had hosted a wild party in his room. It was crowded and the nurses were noisy and drunk, and the cardiologist had so much fun that Dad couldn’t get him to leave. This is his memory of events that saved his life when his heart stopped beating again and the crash cart was brought into his room.

Before they took him into surgery to install his pacemaker, he pinched our Mom on one of her round parts. He is quick at it because he is well-practiced. And when he comes out of anesthetic, he tells me that he loves me and is proud of me. I tell him that I will cut his hair as soon as he comes home.

As I leave the crowded store on Beach Boulevard with two bags of old-fashioned meat, I know that I am once again an odd number at every family gathering that is imminent. I jump into my car and open the sun roof, remembering that everyone can see me and to keep my hands far away from my face.

And on the radio, Blue Oyster Cult is singing that Cowbell song about the Reaper…

“All our times have come
Here but now they’re gone
Seasons don’t fear the Reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain… we can be like they are
Come on baby… don’t fear the Reaper
Baby take my hand… don’t fear the Reaper
We’ll be able to fly… don’t fear the Reaper…”

Today, my Dad is coming home.

La la la la la

More cowbell!

Quote of the Blog, from Christopher Walken portraying music legend Bruce Dickinson on Saturday Night Live: “Guess what? I gotta fever. And the only prescription is more cowbell.”

Picture of my TV while what is arguably the best skit ever on Saturday Night Live broadcasts, from my cell phone. Here’s a link to the MORE COWBELL skit, with Christopher Walken hosting: http://vimeo.com/91715361

For the archive of my previous Un Pop Culture blogs, click here:

https://mdwp.malibulist.com/category/un-pop-culture/

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https://www.coursera.org/course/edc