the ballad of danger legs
bibliomancy forecast for the week of june 23
the page of wands, and Blank Forms 05: Aspirations of Madness
TOMOYUKI CHIDA
People say that there can never be any true growth until humanity passes through its current ice age. I feel like I can understand the toughness of anyone who tries to put down roots in an ice age.
MASAYUKI TAKAYANAGI
Toughness... I hope that's true of me. My principles and philosophy cannot be measured by the scales of the past. In the present continuous tense that has existed in Japan from the late 19th century up until the present, sometimes I feel like I wish I was a shellfish with its shell gaping open. [laughs]
the aleatory
I was flying home from Pittsburgh, pinched in a middle seat between two bros. The bro to my left ordered a double vodka and a coffee. I hated him because he was watching Bob’s Burgers without headphones on one device and playing a video game on another device, and I was trying to write my daily episodes of romance schlock. I composed various letters to the editor in my head about the social failing of not using headphones in public, feeling very boomer about it all. The guy drank some of his vodka and some of his coffee and passed out.
While he was asleep, his legs and arms began to jerk crazily. Many times, stone cold asleep, he poked me in the ribs or slapped a hand down on the tray table.
One of those slaps sent his vodka and coffee flying in the air—all over me, my ipad, my brand-new shoes.
It wasn’t just a little bit of vodka and coffee either. Enough that it sank through my shoes into my socks and made my toes prune up.
I shouted “JESUS CHRIST!” but the guy didn’t wake up. He just kept flopping and flipping and poking. Hours later, he got up and asked to get out of his seat to go to the bathroom. Confrontation doesn’t come easily to me; not very long ago, I would have seethed silently with rage and also felt like a total loser for not standing up for myself.
When he got back in his seat, I said: “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but while you were asleep, you knocked your vodka and your coffee all over me.”
He was horrified. Absolutely horrified. He said that he had no idea—he was on anxiety meds for flying, he had assumed that the flight attendants removed his beverages from the tray. I said, “It’s okay, I’m just asking you to be more considerate of other passengers the next time you fly. If you have to take stuff for anxiety, don’t leave your drinks sitting out. That’s all.”
He insisted on paying for my shoes. I said, “How about this? Make a donation to a legal aid fund for people who are being deported by ICE and we’ll call it a day.” He nodded and cried softly in his seat until we landed in LA. He apologized many more times.
My point is—until I confronted him, I had the sense that this guy was boorish bro who didn’t care about inconveniencing anyone around him. In fact, he was the complete opposite. (Which, let me say, did not necessarily make it less annoying!) I would have continued living in an unsubtle world of boorish bros. I would not have been able to see what was actually there. I want to cultivate more of that particular kind of toughness for myself—ironically, a toughness that is a lot like being a shellfish with its shell gaping open. I almost hate to say that, because it sounds awfully Brene Brown, awfully PBS tote bag, awfully AA hug. In my opinion, the only reason to be kind is to make more of the world visible.
When we got off the plane, we shook hands. He did end up Venmo-ing me for my coffee-stained shoes. I told him that he would be okay, and everybody makes mistakes, all we can ask of ourselves is to try and fix them. He told me that his parents always called him “danger legs” when he was a kid. Pretty good nickname, I think.
forecast
It’s a good week to figure out how to defend yourself.
writing prompt
do a confrontation. use it to see more of what’s really there
a chune
“Sun in the East” by Masayuki Takayanagi
It will never stop being cool to call your contemporaries “a bunch of losers.” Especially if they are, in fact, a bunch of losers.
credits: small spells tarot deck by Rachel Howe
Blank Forms 05: Aspirations of Madness
Free Form Suite by Masayuki Takayanagi
dear diary, I want to wish a very happy birthday to friend of the ’stack Greg Koehler. Early on in our friendship, I remember asking him, “Doesn’t anybody here care about anything?” I had just moved to Austin to do a poetry MFA, and all of the other students seemed like these devious/very cool/evil people who drank a lot and made a lot of jokes and didn’t seem to take anything seriously. I don’t know why that upset me at the time, because I have come to find seriousness kind of a bummer. Anyway, I asked Greg, doesn’t anybody here care about anything, and he said, “Oh, muffin, absolutely not.” How refreshing to be told the truth! xsarah