Friday, March 07, 2014

AN APPROPRIATE TIME FOR THAT

My current schedule sees me elsewhere four days a week. Most of that time is indoors. Three days are my own: Monday, Tuesday, and Friday.
Even if it is cold or rainy, I will spend some time outside.

But those three days the apartment is mine alone.

Well, except for the stuffed animals.
Who are a riotous bunch of beasts.

All men should have a collection of stuffed animals; it will give them someone to read to. My current reading list includes A Wrinkle In Time, Tribal Cultures, India of the Princes, several dictionaries, and manga.
I'm actually re-reading Azumanga Daioh, as well as Chibi Vampire.

[Azumanga Daioh was written by Kiyohiko Azuma, and came out in English about a decade ago. Chibi Vampire, in fourteen volumes, was published in English starting in 2006.]

The stuffed animals breathlessly await each new development in both of those manga. They thrill along with Osaka-san, Chiyo-chan, and Kaorin, while expressing appreciative oohs and aahs over the adventures of Karin Maaka and her grim-faced love-interest Kenta Usui.
It's a roller-coaster of excitement.

The stuff about tribal cultures rather bores them.
They don't have the curiosity required.
Humans, they know, are pigs.


Are trolls animals? Or a form of human, just magical, hairy, and rotund?
I ask, because I have three representations of Totoro, who was the troll in a famous anime movie. One grins, one looks quizzical and grabs my pipe whenever I put it down, and the third is only an inch tall and quite upset about that.
An inch tall fuzzy wuzzy has very little gravitas.
And is inclined to hop angrily.


On all three days I'll head out to Chinatown around mid-afternoon, for a snack and often the final pipe of the day (as I need to let the apartment air out before my apartment mate returns at six).
The stuffed animals usually doze during that period; the excitement they experienced being read to and misbehaving during the morning pooped them out. Frantic attempts to find my wallet or steal my credit card came to naught, sips of my coffee or tea gave them a buzz, and the fights and sniping they embarked upon from the moment they woke up have run their course.
At least I think they nap while I'm away.
But I'm not sure.


One of these days I'll have to hide in the closet to find out.




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