Oddlings


An Interview With a sort-of Pirate
 

“Hello! And welcome to 'Interview with You!' I'm Chatta Bocks sitting in for Nat Tuling and I'm here live with Professor Camedon aka: Swift-handed Jack. Jack is a Professor “gone wild,” as you might say. He is a pirate. Having pulled off many successful yet, undocumented heists, Swifty here spends most of his time on the open seas. He owns a summer house in Sin City where he blends in with everyone there. Even when he does do something a little-piraty, no one hears about it or says anything because as he says “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,' Now Professor, why did you choose to abandon your Docterate Degree in Macroeconomics and opt for becoming a pirate?”

“Well,” voice altered, blurry picture, “the climate seemed to be a perfect storm for an economic downturn. The more I studied it, the more angry I got. It seemed like all my hard earned dollars were going to be sucked into this great recessive hole. Then, I got my inspiration while watching a Disney Pirate movie. It was clear to me, that Pirate was the new Prince and if I wanted to make my fortune, I should go that way. The Somalians were also an inspiration. I took to looting foreclosed houses at first, then swimming pools, then small ponds. Eventually, I was able to graduate from homemade rafts to small yachts.”

“Fascinating. So we are now sitting inside one of the yachts you have captured. How did you come about this one?”
“It was quite thrilling, really, I was on a dock and I found a yacht that still had a key in it, so I hopped in and well, drove off.”
“Were there any passengers inside?”
“A dog. He could swim though, so I didn't feel bad throwing him out.”
“Why haven't you been caught yet?”
“I did some rennovations, blacked out the name, that bit.”
“And how do you treat your captives?”
“If they question me, I throw them overboard,”
“Like the dog,”
“Precisely.”
“How many prisoners have you had to date?”
“Two.”
“Is that counting the dog?”
“Yes.”
“And how did you capture the second one?”
“I consented to an interview.”
Long, awkward, Pause.

For those of you who are truly concerned, you'd be happy to know that they were still docked when she learned her plight and although Swift-handed Jack was able to drive 9 feet away, Ms. Chatta Bocks gallantly dove from the yacht, without being pursued. Swift-handed Jack Camden is afraid of water. Some more interesting information on Swift-handed Jack:
  1. Favorite Color. Gold. I'm a pirate.
  1. Favorite Food. Crab.
  1. Favorite Pet. Parrot.
  1. Favorite movie. Toss between Muppet's Treasure Island and the Little Mermaid.
  1. Favorite celebrity. Johnny Depp
  1. Favoite sitcom NA.
  1. Favorite Joke. They all end in “Arrr!”
  1. Favorite Person. Sir Francis Drake.
  1. Where did you go to High School? School? All the schooling I needed was on board me ship!
  1. Favorite thing? My telescope or my boat. It's a toss up.
  1. What do you do in your spare time? Count my gold.
  1. Favorite saying? Shiver me timbers!
  1. Best advice you ever had. You could a doctor or perhaps a financier, my boy why not consider a more challenging career?
  1. Favorite Holiday September 19, Talk Like A Pirate Day

    *******************************************************************

An unrequited love of Dishes

While living my life quite normally, I woke up one morning to an opportunity rare and magical. Today when I sauntered into the kitchen, I was surprised and quite pleased when I happened to chance upon a mound of dishes.Each dish caked with its own unique food, holding memories of past dinners. In fact, the harder the food was to scrape off, the deeper the memory of the dinner and the resolve to cook it again.

I came across a bowl full of half eaten baby rice, discolored by the kisses from the air. I came across a soggy tortilla soaking in all the glory of last night's tomato soup. I came across a plate with streaks of egg yolk on the first layer and then hidden jewels of syrup on the next.

Burned things are my favorite to clean. The more I labor, the more I love. Burned tomato soup, burned caserole, burned cheese, burned tomato sauce that escaped it's pizza home. I like the satisfaction of looking at the stain left on a cookie sheet from a forgotten, or ignored, dinner gone burned, and telling that sheet "I will always look at it and remember that one time, sweet moment, when I smelled the fragrance known as 'something burning', and briskly but tenderly opened the oven and pulled you from your cave, it was only the third time I used you and now we both have something to forever remember that moment...if I can tell the difference between that stain and the dozens of others you will amass in your existence, but all sweet moments."

Growing things are also miracles. I have yet to see something, but I have heard of wonderfully fluffly looking molds and fragrant mildews.

The scrubbing of the scuz strengthens my inner core and gives me an edge on life. The finess which my hands have acquired while flushing out the hard to reach places, gives me an edge on dirt.

Dishes are like life. Wonderfully useful, with eternal rounds. Clean, dirty, wash, clean, dirty wash. And occasionally, clean, dirty, wash, break.... but those ones will still come back to visit... sweep after sweep after sweep... then even a couple weeks worth of mopping too.

Accidentally made yogurt, I'm sure, has its economical uses. Although I don't have the guts to guzzle it, trying to comprehend the neat nature of milk curdling has always been an aspiration of mine.

And I repeat these things to myself over and over as I gear my courage up to face the never ending mound of dishes that has become quite a comfortable, geographically important point in my house.

"Just uh, go straight past the TV, to the right of the table, through the kitchen, around the mound... the door is there somewhere..."

-Jill

Comments

  1. BABrimhallFebruary 26, 2012 at 6:06 PM

    Jill you are so cute! I miss you and you adventurous/spontaneous/creative self! You are amazing and truly one of a kind! Keep it up :) I know you will go far with your writing and some day all of the world will know Jill Elizabeth Caroll Burgoyne! Love you Jill!

    ReplyDelete

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