Quotes
Famous Quotes
THERE'S A THEORY, which may have substance, that today's blockbuster movies and TV series replace the vital role Shakespeare and the King James Version of the Bible used to serve -- providing shorthand references that are all but universally understood.
You hear people quoting early
Star Wars snippets like, May the force be with you.
Or Clint Eastwood, saying, you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do you, punk?
It's more or less understood that listeners understand both the quotes and the context in which they are made.
The following -- hands down -- holds the record -- at least in my book -- for being the most spot-on reference I've ever, or am likely ever to hear …
* * *
I'm living the idyllic life on the Garden Isle of Kauai -- farthest of the four major Hawaiian Islands -- just me and my soulmate in a one-room condo hardly big enough in which to change your mind, let alone your clothes. Life is good!
One thing that makes it so is our collective mindset. We each have our own spheres. I have my computer consulting business. She does belly dancing in the evening at various restaurants while working days as a massage therapist. At home, we tend to end up out on the lanai -- me stretched out on the shag carpet in front of my laptop, wrestling with some programming challenge. She, hand-sewing outfits for an upcoming performance.
Although we sleep in the same bed, ours is a platonic relationship. She has boyfriends -- plural -- which, from time to time, she'll ask what some particular turn of a phrase or body language she picked up might mean, filtered through a guy's eyes.
While I'm not dating anyone at the moment, I know if I did, she'd be supportive and helpful in any way she could. Neither of us makes demands on the other or tries to limit their scope or behavior.
Honesty is the rule of the day.
We can talk to each other about anything and often do, far into the night.
Living in such close proximity tends to lower one's social conventions. While neither of us leans towards exhibitionism, neither do we freak out if the other happens to see us in our altogether. It's a very liberating and satisfying arrangement, all things considered.
She's an excellent artist and offers to teach me what she's learned. She's even modeled for me while I learned how to draw and shade curves.
I'm not bad with computers and tutor her in web design and the rudiments of writing code.
* * *
All of this comes to a screeching halt that lasts for several months.
No, we don't have an altercation. There never was any requirement that we check in with each other before doing anything.
In a moment of compassion, she stops to pick up a black, female hitchhiker. That's all --
Which is more than enough …
After she gets in the car, she fails to tell Ananda where she wants to go.
When asked, she says, "I was just kicked out of where I've been living. I have no place to go."
Ananda -- my roommate -- suggests she come stay with us for the night until she figures out something more permanent.
Imagine my surprise when I come back from a client visit to find Ananda sacked out, face down on the bed, with her hitchhiker sitting rather properly in the only chair in the room.
I sit down on the edge of the bed.
After introducing myself, as diplomatically I can, I ask her who she is and -- more to the point -- what's she's doing there.
She tells me her name, then proceeds to relate her I-got-kicked-out-of-my-house
story, ending with how Ananda stopped to pick her up and invited her to stay the night.
Hmmm.
We both sit there staring at each other for quite some time.
Finally, she looks around the room as if she hasn't taken it in several times before I arrived, then back at me.
"There's only one bed."
"I know," I say. "It's a small apartment."
"Where were you planning to sleep?" she questions, as if to suggest that wherever it was, it would have to change.
"It's my
bed. This is where I
sleep," I say a little defensively.
Hmmm.
"Where, then, will I
sleep?" she inquires, body language suggesting that "that leaves nowhere for me."
Hmmm.
"Well," I say, "it's a pretty big bed. There's probably room for all of us."
Hmmm.
"But I don't know
you," she says.
Dead air.
"And you're
a man."
More dead air.
"And I'm
a woman."
Hmmm.
"Well," I offer, "since you apparently know Ananda
-- as do I -- maybe Ananda
should sleep in the middle. I
can sleep on this side. And you
can sleep over there on the other side."
A long pause ensues.
It's at this moment, emanating from somewhere near the bottom portion of the pillow supporting Ananda's face-down head, we hear a perfect reproduction of the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz, looking down at Dorothy's sparkling red slippers, saying,
"These
things must be done -- delicately!"
* * *
Long story short, we couldn't get rid of her! Not only did she stay for several months, she invited her six-year-old daughter to stay with us!
I could see this was going nowhere fast.
I checked with management to see if any other units were available. Upon finding one, I came home, declaring that we all
had to move within twenty-four hours.
Upon hearing this, our "overnight guest -- going on three months of overnights -- who had nowhere
to go," pulled out her phone and pressed speed dial.
Within thirty minutes, a long, white, stretch limo pulled into the parking lot.
A uniformed chauffeur loaded her luggage into the trunk, closed the lid and drove off into the proverbial sunset!