The Elegant Bastard provides an edited transcript of an interesting conversation that happened earlier this evening. This is dedicated, with respect, to Ryan.
The time and place is here and now, and you, of course, are you.
News voices tell you that the enemy is closer than we thought, not just “out there” but near. They offer experts, images and tearful fearful voices. Faces full of gravitas intone and dial their eyes to “tough but strong”. Someone now arrives to speak in hard but patriotic tones. We need to make decisions, they all say, and we need to do it now. The doorbell rings and the New York Times arrives.
You lean forward, remembering that yesterday those self-same faces and those voices warned us yet again about impending Armageddon. It all flows in from far away, too far away.
A child’s urgent voice intrudes insisting that you walk down to a nearby garden. Elves have been seen in the vicinity and whispers say that golden and green jello can be found behind the shadowy hedges. You are asked if it would be all right to take the good spoons out of doors. But even if it isn’t, could we please go there now?
You lean towards this child who yesterday believed in Scooby underneath the bed. The day before it might have been Sponge Bob. A book of fairy tales sits on the kitchen table. This is too close, too close, too close.
I am as rational as you and as romantic too. My worlds need my answer.
(Yes, I have decided, but we can need each other`s answers even when we disagree.)