Tag Archives: Strange World

Strange World

The world is a strange place, dudes.

It’s to my greatest regret and my greatest gratitude, that we don’t have a fence in the backyard. Because of that, Buzz, the garbage disposal that walks like a dog, must, in fact, be walked. Often. At great length.

If I want Buzz to be walked in a way that ensures he won’t be leaving little brown, smelly presents all over the house at inopportune times, I have to do it myself.

And so I get a chance for a little alone time with Buzz. Of course, it’s not actual alone time, seeing as how Buzz is at the end of the leash, but he doesn’t actually require that I talk to him, listen to him or respond back to him. Which, as you might imagine, is a bit of a relief on occasion.

So while the walks do take out a significant portion of the day, I always find that I’m feeling much better about life at the end of each walk.

These walks also let me see some very interesting things along the way. Not even going to go into the folks who seem to believe that if they are on the other side of a house window that they’re invisible from the street. For the record? They’re not. They’re so very not invisible.

*shudder*

No, what got me thinking about the world’s strangeness was the pumpkin patch of old, discarded (I think) pumpkins I found the other day along a utility siding. It’s a large field of open space that allows a set of power lines to roll across the land without crossing any homes. It’s bound on each side by a small line of trees and bushes.

As I was walking into the open area, I noticed several small pumpkins in the bushes. This being the time after Halloween, I thought nothing of it.

Then, when I went back later, there were more pumpkins. Two of them were rather large and rather white, something I’d never seen before. I’m assuming they’re a thing, but not something I’ve known about.

Strange, I thought, then walked on.

Finally, on a third trip through, I found even more pumpkins on the ground. I counted up a total of nine pumpkins, some large and some small.

Now, I realize it’s probably because the people nearby didn’t want to throw their pumpkins out and wanted, instead, to offer them to the local wildlife, but that’s the logical reasoning and doesn’t really cover why they appeared over a number of different days.

And, besides, we have no way of knowing if it’s true. There could be any number of reasons, from aliens setting bad traps for people who, only a few weeks ago, seemed to have pumpkins everywhere, to the spontaneous appearance of pumpkins in the nexus of all Halloweens throughout the multiverse.

It’s the difference between not understanding something and something being a mystery. Mysteries are lovely and allow for such speculation and, best of all, they are there until we decide to solve them.

Mysteries allow for the strange and the unusual. Mysteries are the stuff of adventure.

The world is a strange place.

Let’s keep it that way*.

 

Share on Facebook

Freaky Friday: The Candyman

by Richard

People who eat only vegetables (who are truly missing out on all the benefits of being at the top of the food chain) are called vegetarians. People who eat only meat are called carnivores. People who eat meat and vegetables are omnivores. People who eat only air, aside from being dead, are called breatharians (No, seriously. Look it up.). People who eat only candy are called Paul Rudnick. And again: No, seriously.

At 51, Rudnick has, he says, hardly touched a vegetable for most of his life and weighs only 150 lbs on his 5-foot-10-inch frame. A man who says he doesn’t even eat meals so much as graze throughout the day, Rudnick dines on Yodels, Hershey’s Kisses and handfuls of dry cereal.

“People always assume I’m lying,” said Mr. Rudnick earlier this month in his West Village apartment packed from ceiling to floor with Gothic ornamentation. “They always say: ‘That can’t be true. You’d be dead. Or huge.’ ”

But as Mr. Rudnick insisted (as he does in “I Shudder,” a collection of short pieces ranging from recollections to screeds), he is not dissembling or diseased. “There was never a time when I was not refined-sugar-centric,” he said flatly. “I was always appalled by almost all other foods; I could not understand why anyone wanted them. I did not like the taste, the smell, the concept.”

Makes me feel like I had it easy when I couldn’t get my little dudes to eat green beans. At least they’ll take some vitamin supplements and will enjoy different vegetables and meats. I can’t imagine what it would be like in our household if I had two little dudes eating regularly and one little dude eating only candy throughout the day. Yeah, it would probably be pretty ugly.

This is a dude who’s favorite vacation destination would have to be Hershey, PA. I’m not sure if I could keep up with him and I ate myself into a sugar coma recently.

Truly this is a very strange world.

Share on Facebook