Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Just Because You Think Someone's Out to Get You . . . Doesn't Mean They ARE!
You know that saying "once an addict . . ."? Well, I used to be a wee bit of a conspiracy theorist. Although I sought help and am currently in recovery, on occasion, I do relapse. Combine that relapse with my naturally ding-a-lingy personality (which isn't going anywhere, it don't matter the therapy), and you get what happened yesterday.
So, it rained a bit on Sunday night. Yesterday morning, when I got up to walk Ivan, I noticed this fine yellow dust on certain spots on the ground. "Hmmm . . . " I went. "Wonder where that came from?" Then I thought back to the rain and figured that perhaps the county had been spraying for pest control and the fine yellow dust – pesticidal residue – dropped from the sky along with the rain.
"Yew," I went. "That's got to be, like, really unhealthy."
But I didn't have time to think much more about it.
Until about eleven o'clock when, during my work break, I decided to go outside and clean off the pool cover and discovered even more fine yellow dust! "Huh," I went. "That's a crap load of pesticide. I wonder if I should call someone?"
Then I scooped up a bunch of the powder on my finger and sniffed it. It didn't smell like anything chemically. So I gingerly touched it with my tongue. Tasteless. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand. My tongue didn't fall off. My throat didn't close up. I was still breathing. But then a gust of wind kicked up, bringing with it a HUGE cloud of yellow mist.
That's it, I thought. Something's not right. So I turned off the water, jumped in the car (putting Ivan in the back in case, you know, it ended up he and I were the only two creatures left alive on the planet), and drove out into the neighborhood to see what was going on.
My relapse working itself in full force, the following scenarios played out in my head:
1. The Russians were testing a new nerve gas and we were the rats.
2. The Arabs had exploded a dirty bomb somewhere just on the outskirts of Moriarty, 'cause, well, you know, Moriarty is just so vital to our nation's strategic defense system.
3. My neighbor was using a power sprayer on her new home and was in the process of poisoning the entire neighborhood. (This would of course provide me with the perfect opportunity to give her the what for since her kids are now out of school and have been spending every day, all day running around like a bunch of drunken sailors within hearing distance of my office window.)
A few minutes into my drive up the street, I spotted one of my neighbors walking his two dogs. Yes, another survivor. I stopped the car and waved to him.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
I pointed to a spot on the ground in front of us that just quite conveniently happened to be covered with a batch of fine yellow dust.
"Do you know of anyone in the neighborhood who may be spray painting or something? I'm wondering where this yellow stuff is coming from."
One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand. "Uh, that's pollen?" he replied, with a look that said, "What planet did you just fly in from?"
Ohhhhhhhhhh . . . duh. Boy, did that, like, never occur to me.
But pollen it is. Being produced by the waftfuls by our native New Mexican pinon trees which, I'm assuming, will as a result reward us all with a huge crop of pinon nuts this year.
Well, except for moi. Pinon nuts are my absolute favorite but no way Jose can I eat them with these #*%$&$#@ braces on my teeth. Which is fitting in a way. See, I relapse and ignore Mother Nature's signals and she in turn withholds pine nuts as penance. And to think, some people don't believe this planet we live on is one big web of inter-connectedness.