Time to Un-Whine

Subject: Time to Un-Whine
From: Sailor Jim Johnston
Date: 1999/12/17
Newsgroups: alt.callahans

“Ahhhhh! Now this is more like it!”

Sailor Jim glides into the room, his graceful stride suggesting lineage
as a possible woodscolt out of Ginger, by Fred. He actually takes a
casual turn or two with several Goodwenches on his way to his customary
table. Settling in, he thanks Mike for the waiting drink and takes a
sip.

“My, what a shitty week this has been and I am so glad to be shut of
it! It took something as simple as cold weather to knock the pins out
from under me? Well, it took two small acts, each as automatic and
simple as the weather changing, to prop me back up!

“First was the yearly migration. As the pigeons returning to
Capistrano, as the pigs returning to their sties, or as dogs returning
to there own puke, the students have all returned to whatever self-
serving and outrageously permissive homes from which they originally
issued. As I write these words, I can hear the nearly murdered twin
concepts of truth and honor heaving massive sighs of relief at having
once again, somehow, survived the usually mauling by ‘students.’ There
is plentiful parking in the staff and facility lots, elbow room in the
surrounding bistros and restaurants, and succor for the ears and mind
from the vile cacophony of car stereos cranked far too loud.

“All is peace and quiet; the campus lies fallow, the healing has begun
anew.

“A simple thing, no? The end of a semester happens twice a year,
without fail. But one might also note that the ends of WWI, WWII,
Vietnam, disco, and Rush Limbaugh were inevitable in a rational world,
but still no less blessed for their occurrence.

“With the removal of this constant irritation, my spirits rise once
more. It is no longer cold, it is bracing! It is no longer bleak, it
is austere! It is a simple and decent world once more and I can
quietly feed the ducks and appreciate it, without fear of interruption.

“It is almost like returning to the womb.” Sailor Jim smiles
blissfully and takes another sip from his drink, before
continuing, “Which, oddly enough, brings us directly to the second
small act which dispelled my depression. Fairly obviously, in
hindsight, actually. I was suffering from a chill of the soul, no? I
was wrapping myself up in blankets and misery to attempt to warm my
soul back up by warming up my body, no?

“Pretty stupid, yes? One simply cannot warm a metaphysical construct
with phyical wrappings! As any one of reasonable intelligence could
guess, it would take something equally metaphysical! And, as any fool
knows, one fights the cold with something hot … thus inspired, Dian
reasoned that I needed lots of metaphysical heat, so she tied me to our
bed and ravaged me for several hours.

“Okay, I wasn’t able to walk for an hour or so afterwards and still
have difficulty sitting in these tight blue jeans (localized tenderness
and swelling), but most treatments have minor side-effects and it’s
astonishing what multiple orgasms can do to brighten ones overall view
of life! (I suspect that all those who suffer from serious depression
know, instinctually, of this cure … which is why their favorite reply
when depressed is ‘Fuck it.’)

“Now, let’s all get merry and enjoy the final days of this penultimate
year!”

SJ

–
“The More I See of People,
The More I Love My Dog.”
(Or, rather, did .. until those busybodies at the SPCA laid that
injuction on me.)