My biggest problem with Bonnie is that it is very disconcerting to wake up, or to think I've awakened to discover a dead red head with a rifle on my bed. Before we go any further, I would like to announce an epiphany; frightened people are not rational people.
I've told people for years that snakes are harmless and benign creatures better studied and left alone than ran and screamed from. For those of you who wish that I would try to make contact with Bonnie, let's assume she's a five foot long living snake. Now, of the make-contact-with-the-dead team, who among you would reach out and grab the snake.
Uh-huh. That's what I thought. You're plenty willing to freak out over a harmless animal but when it comes to a well armed dead human whose intentions are not only unknown but possibly unknowable you get all sort of interested in getting the low down from her. Through me, not to put too fine a point on it.
Now I do realize there are those who would reach out and grab the snake, and I realize there are those of you who would invite the dead over for some coffee and discuss why that particular patch of bed had attracted the dead red head. Of course, this may be much like the case where I went under a woman?s house because her idiot fool 14-year-old son claimed he saw a five-foot long rattlesnake crawl under the house. I went under the house because I assumed he was either lying, or wrong. He was neither. I came out from under the house, quickly. It's all well and good to say what you would do, but in the dark, alone with your fear, or a very large venomous reptile, you might discover that exiting the situation does seem like a very good idea at the time.
Don't misunderstand me. I totally and completely appreciate the feedback I've received in this matter. Moreover, the fact that no one has suggested that I take my meds and visit my doctor on a more frequent basis is a comfort, even though I get this odd feeling that both of those suggestions aren't completely out of order. I don't have meds yet, but if I keep seeing dead red heads on my bed, a visit to my local head shrink might seem like just another way to get out from under a house with a large venomous reptile, yea.
To put this in another perspective, imagine what you would do if someone you found desirable all of a sudden popped into existence in your car while you were driving down the road. Might I humbly suggest to you that lust might not be your first reaction? Might I suggest to you that even if you were told all your life not to lock your brakes up in the event of a sudden appearance of the desirable you might react by jamming your foot through the damn floor trying to stop, in a manner completely consistent with Flinstonian Physics? Suppose that you, for reasons that at this time seem to you a bit odd, did indeed react with less passion than you would like to imagine, and with more fear than you care to admit, and you wound up wrecking your car, killing you and the suddenly appeared yet dearly departed. How many people do you think would say, "Gee, I sure don't understand why having someone pop into a car like that would cause a wreck!"
You see what I'm getting at here? In the context of what we're doing right now, speaking to Bonnie seems like such a good idea. But I'm never ready for her to be there, and it is always a surprise. Of the grab-the-snake people out there, how many of you think that your first reaction would be to reach for the serpent?
Uh-huh. That's what I thought.
Take Care
Mike
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Comments: 25
I am still laughing at the imagined vision of your new icon photo: Mike in a leopardskin tunic..............
Once, a dear friend of mine was considering buying a house. It was nice, older, and so reasonably priced that she was puzzled. I drove by and knew. It was a harmless situation, and when I alerted her, I told her so. Still, she opted not to purchase. Don't know why I shared that. Has nothing to do with your situation. Great article.
Captain Kirk, may I suggest we change coure to another galaxie? Perhaps a Ford Galaxie?
I've had some pretty neat dreams since I quit smoking..and NO I didn't buy patched or expensive Chantix. They pretty much disappeared after I returned form the dentist yeaterday sporting my newly remodeled mouth....
It's still fascinating - your conversations and impressions of Bonnie.
Maybe you should leave her a glass of milk and some cookies?
I have no idea what I'd do beyond figuring out where she has the gun pointed. Even if it's a ghost-gun, whether or not she's pointing it at you says something.
That said, you are only tapping into Bonnie's dark side when you make mention of her - hmmm - what about her 24 short years on this plane, or the fact she was a creative writer and political speech writer who was placated, discounted and disrespected, as such in that era. She was 4'11" tall and probably weighed 90 pounds soaking wet, a middle child born to a bricklayer (mason) in Rowena, TX and died in Louisiana. She was a Libra and anti-capitalistic.
As a writer, Mike it appears a little obvious to me that she wants you to write something beyond your 'fears' about her life...
That is the part that scares me.
Do some homework Mike, and give her the credibility and respect that she deserves, seeks and needs to move on... from this plane and your bed.
I understand what you're trying to say, but my mind is really split on this one so it's going to be hard for me to be coherent.