I’ve spent much of the past few hours alone at home doing nothing. Being depressed does not count as doing anything. At the time the remote fell I was lying on the sofa listing in my head the NFL teams I hate the most. I don’t even watch the NFL anymore. I was deep in a malaise. The falling remote snapped me out of it as it was likely meant to do. I write that assuming something caused the remote to fall, other than it being too close to the edge. And if it was too close to the edge, what made it finally fall? There was no earthquake or strong wind. All was still.
I still don’t believe in ghosts but I don’t know how that damn remote fell. I reiterate it’s falling did succeed in snapping me out of my doldrums, at least long enough to write this and whatever follows.
I’ve been surprisingly free of depression this past week. My rash has finally cleared up, so that could be a contributing factor. I had foot surgery on Thursday. There was a bone in my right foot near the little toe that was pushing against the side of my foot causing painful callouses. I could have gone on making periodic visits to the podiatrist to have them removed but I opted for surgery to get it over and done with. I was told that I’d be kept from running for ten days. A long time but worth it.
The surgery took 15 minutes and thanks to modern medicine, it was pain free. I’ve been living with a large bandage on my foot and have had to severely reduce walking. I’ve also had to keep said foot elevated as often as possible. Vicodin has been provided for pain relief but thankfully I’ve not had to avail myself.
So the remote fell for no apparent reason. I still don’t know why.
Yesterday I went to see a film called Lucky starring the late Harry Dean Stanton in his final role. I liked it. I then came home and watched three episodes of House of Cards thus completing season four. Later the missus and I watched the original Blade Runner film in preparation for today seeing the sequel. That was simply way too much time looking at screens. I’ve been doing too much of that lately between House of Cards, the Vietnam documentary and two short run HBO shows, The Deuce and Vice Principals. It’s going to eat up my October and I don’t like it. No new shows after I finish these. Today other than the new Blade Runner film, all I’m watching is the new Simpsons episode. By the way, neither the missus nor I particularly cared for Blade Runner 2049. It was bloated. The original clocked in at under two hours and told a better story with much better developed characters. This always seems to happen with 21st century remakes and sequels, they wallow in excess and the story gets lost.
The wife has come home. I told her about the remote. She doesn’t believe in ghosts either but shares my bafflement about what took place. Seeing her beautiful face has cheered me considerably, though not enough to totally shake the angry clench of depression.
It could be that the spirit of dead ancestor (dad?) or friend (Paul?) or literary hero (Kerouac) knocked the remote over to shake me up — well, it worked — knowing I needed to write, or at least do something. Giving in to depression is all to easy as it is a powerful force. Right now it’s taking all my wits and strength to write these meager words.
Maybe the remote falling was a portend of things to come as Halloween approaches. Perhaps Frankenstein’s monster himself will make an appearance in the coming days or Count Dracula will come by for a drink. Maybe a Werewolf will come calling or an angry mummy.
As a child I loved Halloween. It was colorful, it was different, there were stories, there were movies and cartoons and ultimately there was lots of candy. Now Halloween is a harbinger of the real holiday season with Thanksgiving following in three or so weeks and Christmas within a month of that.
Why on Earth did that remote fall? There’s no way it was sitting so precariously on the edge (if on the edge it even was) that the merest molecule passing by would cause its tumble.
I can’t figure it out but I am grateful because in consequence I got off my ass and wrote a little bit. In fact, maybe next I’ll peck away at the novel of mine….
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