George Bernard Shaw wrote…
“….Life as it appears to us in our daily experience is an unintelligible chaos of happenings. You pass Othello in the bazaar in Aleppo, Iago on the jetty in Cyprus, and Desdemona in the nave of St. Mark’s in Venice without the slightest clue to their relations to one another. It is the business of the writer to pick out the significant incidents from the chaos of daily happenings and arrange them so that their relation to one another becomes significant, thus changing us from bewildered spectators of a monstrous confusion to men intelligently conscious of the world and its destinies.“
What happened to me yesterday in the order I remember…
. Eating Gruyère and sausage slices for breakfast.
. My girlfriend telling me it’s disgusting when I eat with my mouth open.
. Argument with girlfriend.
. Feeding my son a bottle.
. Wanting to write an e-mail to my girlfriend about why I’m right.
. Thinking to shave the hair on my face then deciding against it.
. OK’ing head shots from Reproductions.
. My son kicks off his left shoe.
. I look for a bar I can’t find.
. I eat a burger at an Australian restaurant.
. In the Australian restaurant, everyone says hello and goodbye but not in a, ‘Hey welcome to Applebee’s!’ sort of way. More in a look-you-in-the-eye-I’m-your-stepfather-but-I-love-your-Mother-very-much-so-respect-me, sort of way, that left me feeling warm and distrustful.
. A food runner puts his hands out and grazes my son’s neck as he passes which was meant to be a gesture of playfulness and affection.
. At Bryant Park, I watch people ice skate.
. I notice the one guy who brings his own hockey skates and keeps stopping real short, sending up a spray of ice.
. A girl who brought her own figure skates and a small grey hoodie that she toastily pulls around herself after every trick she performs.
. A plethora of tourists that…. I mean, it is amazing how many people don’t know how to ice skate.
. My friend tells me, “Successful people are the ones that do the things unsuccessful people don’t.”
. I watch HOUSE on TV and barely understand a word.
What’s the story????
A man in a tight space is being scrutinized by the woman he’s rooming with who also happens to be the Mother to his child. He learns you can’t be in love for every hour of the day (Hey! Welcome to Applebees!”) or that love doesn’t always manifest in hugs, hearts, and kisses (Stepfather/Runner grazing my sons head). Eventually, get told you’re not doing the right things to be a success, turning to a mechanical object for support and affection only to be left more confused than before.