Proudly Sponsored by…

Across the road from the restaurant, I see a little girl as I sit by the terrace. She is wearing what appears to be a red and white polka dot dress. Hard to really tell as she is covered in mud head to foot. She holds with both hands an ice cream cone as if it was her most prized possession in the world. She spots me staring from across the road and she smiles, such a beautiful smile. Then she waves, I wasn’t expecting that. I return the smile and wave back enthusiastically. Hello.

On my walk back from work I usually use the same route each day. On this route there is a part which I always try to pass by as quickly as possible. Not that there are dogs there, no there are just these kids there who seem to have had it in for me from the first day they saw me. At first they laughed at me and called out swear words. Over the past month they have upgraded their skills to stone-throwing. This time as I get there I take a peek in their usual direction, no one there, whew. I try to pass by quickly. From the corner of my eye I see something moving. I turn, there they are, all three of them, well hidden, aiming. I run, followed by stones and hysterical bouts of laughter. Bastards!

Usually I stop by the grocery store to pick up a few things. Not today though, not in the mood right now, I pass by. As I pass by a sight catches my eye. There is the usual beggar there, plump and bearded. He sits on his wheelchair, legless, an amputee. I think that guys is a little crazy. Today he has his stereo on. Today he seems to be having a bout of the hysterics. He is jumping up and down in his wheelchair, girating sideways, singing and shouting, clapping hands and dancing to the beat. If he, as wheelchair bound as he is, can have so much fun why can’t everyone else in the world seem to have more fun than he has when they have both legs and more? Conundrum.

Across the flats where I live is the local pub. Everytime I pass by there always seems to be something funny going on there. Last time there was a drunkard singing that he was “too sexy for my shirt”. Apparently he was too sexy for his trousers, underwear and shoes too for he had none on. Today there are two old guys with gray beards, bottles in one hand, arms wrapped around each other like long lost comrades re-united. They sway to and fro in their drunkenness. And they sing. “Acroooss zhe briiidge, zhere no more ssshorrow (hic!). Acrossss zhe briiidge, zhere bee noo paiiinn (hic!)”. Fancy that, of all the things they could sing they choose that? Hahahaha.

I climb the stairs up to my flat. On the second floor I find a married couple outside their door. If the expressions on their faces don’t show it then their loud voices sure explain it. It is a marriage dispute. Had my fair share of those, no way am sticking around. I pass through. As I pass by I hear the woman angrily ask her husband “Whats wrong with you?” three consecutive times. After each question she whacks him in the head with a frying pan. He doesn’t seem to care about retaliation as he is more concerned with protecting his head with both hands. He protests of course ,“Stop it woman!”. As she whacks him a fourth time, this time without bothering to ask the warning question, I can’t help but wonder whether she means the problem is with the man or his head.

After dinner, in the bedroom am drawn to the window by the sounds of a commotion on the streets below. And there I see a Policeman fast on the heels of what appears to be a street kid. The Officer of the Law doesn’t seem to be having much success. Perhaps if his belly was not so fat and round he would have caught the child. As for now, out of wind, he stops to catch his breath. Bent over, hands on his knees, wheezing as if a heart valve is about to burst. Not quite satisfied with the humiliation he has caused the policeman the boy notices he is no longer being pursued, he stops and turns, and throws rude and obscene gestures at the policeman. Out of desperation the policeman picks up a stone and hurls it at the young idiot. The lad quickly disappears from sight. Hehehe, the life and times of man.

My wife calls me to bed. As I close my eyelids and try to sleep I am for some strange reason reminded of a funeral I attended one day. The relatives of the man who died were many and man did they cry. Can’t understand why though, he was 92 years old. He had lived a full life, had had a great life, and was so tired that death was the best thing for him. But still they wept. Perhaps because he had been in their lives for so long and had had such a great impact on them. As we left the graveyard you could tell that the family were leaving the tomb against their will. Oh well, when it’s time to go it’s time to go. Goodbye.

“I see friends shaking hands, saying ‘How do you do?’. They are really saying, ‘I love you.’ I hear babies cry, I watch them grow, they’ll learn much more, than I will ever know. And I think to myself, ‘What a wonderful world.’ Yeah, I think to myself, what a wonderful world.”-Louis Armstrong (What a Wonderful World)

In the beginning there was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God. And He who is seated on the throne said “Let there be light, life, and love.” What you see each day are the works of the hands of God. Enjoy.

Christian Psychiatrix. Forever