From the Inland Empire
By on January 15, 2008 | Permalink | Comments (4)
My father just got back from Egypt and Israel. The tour de Old Testament prophets. The night he got home he sat us down in the dining room to have a look at some photos, snapshots, from the trip. Among them were pictures of, yes, olive presses and old Hebrew men, there were guards and scenic shots of Aaron’s (supposed) tomb. He sat on a camel with a student and took “art” pictures of my brother lying on the ground as if dead. But littered among these sometimes-encouraging-horrifically-depressing-comments photographs were pictures of cats. At least ten of them.
It is true, my father loves cats.
On his spiritual pilgrimage, accompanied by people buying diamonds and thousands of souvenirs, he took pictures of cats and a few other small animals.
And this is how I know that Vonnegut was right.
We Do, Doodley Do, Doodley Do, Doodley Do, What We Must, Muddley Must, Muddley Must, Muddley Must, Until We Bust, Bodily Bust, Bodily Bust, Bodily Bust.—Bokonon
“Father, we are here to help each other get through this thing. Whatever it is,” these are the wise words of Vonnegut’s son.
I am living in the Inland Empire. Surrounded by vacant houses. For Sale by Bank. I wake up late because there is nothing to welcome me but hollow searches for wedding dresses and jobs. I search and search online for something. And have dreams about being near people I love. There is no blood here. It is like the Pillar of Fire. Without the innocence.
But there is my parent’s cat. And pink lady apples. Oh zinc, you do drop your lean and massive body into the corners beside my body so well! I do love you, old chap.
And as my mother exclaimed tonight with utmost fervor and thrill (in regards to applying for a position at a tutor agency),
“I think you should just put on a dress and march in there!”
And so we shall.
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Comments (4)
Man, you said it. Its interesting to think about the spiritual significance attached to cats in that region and wonder if its all that different from what your father was feeling. The other day my dad said, ‘God gave us dogs.’ In all seriousness he meant that god had created dogs as special pets/companions to humans, and he was talking about how much they teach us with their simple, loyal natures. People need pets in the suburbs. Bad.
Posted by Alisha | January 15, 2008 @ 12:39 PM
I had to leave the IE to realize that I had been covered in dog and cat hair the entire time.
Posted by Vicki | January 16, 2008 @ 11:17 AM
a sweetheart cat is sleeping on my neck at this very moment. she is so warm and warming; i’m trying not to disturb her with my typing. i too spend too much time looking for something online. days filled with jobs searches feel hollow indeed. its been a strange season- i hope you do put on that dress and march on in there laura! or really, i just hope that you find something as warming as a necksleeping cat somewhere in that inland empire.
i miss you and your face.
ps—- i had an interview today in hollywood for a part time newspaper job. it wasn’t until i got there that i discovered that the “LA XPress” newspaper is mostly just a big collection of little ads with photos of women advertising themselves for paid sex. if i worked there i would be helping lay that stuff out, and helping the woman who come in fill out the proper paperwork so that the pictures they hand over will go in the right section. the man who interviewed me really liked me; he left a message an hour later saying i was hired. in some ways, i feel sincerely confused about my emotions in this situation. but for the most part i just know that i’m not going to take the job.
thanks for listening, i just wanted to tell someone about that part of my day.
Posted by Julie | January 17, 2008 @ 6:56 PM
Running the risk of sounding like a Vonnegut fanboy, that man has all the answers. Or no answers. Either way, I love him. Also, I’m glad zinc has warmed up to you.
Posted by matthew
| January 15, 2008 @ 12:51 AM