Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “bowl.” Use it as a noun or a verb—use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
A bowl is a round container with a concave surface. You can eat soup or salad out of it. Wait… I’ve eaten salad out of square containers. Are they square bowls or not bowls at all? If they’re considered square bowls, either they don’t fit the definition of a bowl, or the bowl definition doesn’t allow for exceptions. I’m so confused! Our language is fragile and often inaccurate, but communities, and on a larger scale, cultures have something more… common understanding. Language plays a role though. A common language is an essential core to human relationship cohesiveness. Last I checked, the U.S. has never ‘officially’ assigned any ‘official’ language. Whew… that’s a bit overdue. U.S. citizens have had a ‘common understanding’ (forever) that it’s likely, maybe, probably, English but foreigners from countries that have their own designated ‘official’ language might be afraid that their language is against the law here or something. Ugh… I’m getting more confused! Well, at least we can agree on the time, right? Wait…we have Daylight Savings Time, Regular Time, Mountain Time, Central Time, and who could forget “Time to make the donuts”. Never mind. There is, after all, consensus on our good ole American food choices. Everyone I know loves a stack of pancakes for breakfast… or griddle cakes… or flapjacks… or hot cakes. Give me a break! Aren’t those the same thing? I think they are. So, the breakfast isn’t different, but it’s called a different name according to where you’re eating it. I wonder if your grandma made you pancakes in Connecticut and mailed them to Texas if they’d taste different under the Texas label of flapjacks? Even harder, at what point in their journey does the name change. If the plane crashed halfway to Texas, when the package from grandma is recovered, WHAT’S IN IT? Does it depend on where the crash site is, or does it depend on what region of the country the person who recovers the package is from?! I GIVE UP! Happy Saturday Everyone! Do whatever you wish, I don’t want to know!
Here’s a clip from Good Morning Vietnam offering a coherent English lesson. Enjoy!
“I don’t care who ya are. I need hep gittin’ ’round these dang rattlesnakes ‘n’ firebugs an’ nobody else will listen.”
“I don’t think you understand. This is a private residence, sir, and I’m located in Connecticut. We don’t have a rattlesnake or firebug problem here.”
“Boy howdy! How’d ya tame all of ’em then? What’s your secret? These varmints … “
With her potatoes boiling dry on her stove, she slipped away and shut them off as the stranger ranted on yet returned hearing his last question because of an empathy she’d immediately felt from his desperate tone.
“… once they were gone. So, lady you’re gonna have ta hep me now, ya see?”
“Mister, are you alone?”
“Ain’t cha bin listenin’? It was Doris, Chris, ‘n’ me ’til July, once they were gone, I’ve only got the wee pieces of one another left over. Now it’s me agin them rattlesnakes and firebugs ‘n’ they’re hungry!”
She thought, “Hmm… he must be a Morman. Poor man is all alone and grieving two losses. No wonder he’s a bit desperate and confused.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, sir, but how could I possibly help?”
“Send me more rats jus’ like Doris ‘n’ Chris so I can raise me more snake food and have your people come clean up all them leavings layin’ ’round so I can git rid of them pesky bugs! Do you take Visa or Mastercard? … Hello?”.
So here I am, dangling from the rope bridge by my wrist, and it is going to take a miracle to get out of this one!
“May I digress? Let me introduce myself. I’m Stewart and people tell me that I make up exaggerated stories in order to get attention. Au contraire! I ammost certainly a real-life human magnet to trouble so in order to break that misnomer and clear my name, I may have to die today.”
My day had had a better than average start so, silly me, I shed my usual ‘stay close to home’ cautiousness and charged off toward the darkened woods pursuing the origin of last night’s blood curdling howls. Howling is actually a common nighttime sound around here, but blood curdling ones are thankfully extremely rare. Now, here I am, dangling by a thread over a three-hundred-foot chasm having been tricked by a werewolf who knew the bridge would give out before I reached its lair. A werewolf so despicable that ruining the last grains of my respectability is its true evil intention! If that weren’t enough, this werewolf bears a strange resemblance to my mother-in-law who abruptly cancelled her visit two days ago. Really? Pearl earrings on a werewolf? This explains a lot! My alien abduction happened precisely after she’d left our house last time and I’m nobody’s fool I’ll have you know. If she reaches over to grab me, I’ll let go. I’m not falling for anything like that anymore!