Expanding on yesterday’s post….
At first, I said “What A Maroon”. Me? J. D. Salinger? But I read about his life and works…and its pretty close to what I feel about life. Holden’s life.
Salinger had war-time PTSD. I had a stroke. And hypo-mania. He was a hermit. I sit in a wheelchair, blogging 500 words a day. On good days. Similar/dissimilar. I’m gregarious but, like The Black Bird, I have a sinister side inside.
Its just a cheap shot of a post, but it interested me. Of more interest is this true anecdote that just happened.
Its Thanksgiving today. My wife is in the kitchen. I’m typing. I get a yell from her. “Come Over Here. I Need You.” I wheel myself over to the wheelchair, unsteadily. “Which end of the turkey do you put the stuffing in,” she asks? The look I give her is the same look Wylie Coyote gives to the audience, just before he falls into the Grand Canyon. I’ll be laughing ’til Christmas.