Life is Worth Loosing 7

Don’t you have a part of you, a part of you that secretly hopes everything gets worse? When you see a big fire on TV… don’t you hope it spreads? Don’t you hope it gets completely out of control and burns down six counties? You don’t root for the firemen do you? I mean I don’t want them to get hurt or nothing, but I don’t want them to put out my fire. That’s my fire – that’s nature showing off and having fun. I like fires. You know something else I like? Those spring floods in the Midwest! Aren’t they great? Like clockwork, spring floods in the Midwest. Now I’m starting to notice… I’m starting to catch on, that every year… it’s the same story. Another flood, in the same place, with the same people, on the same river- SAME FUCKING PEOPLE! And these people do not move, they will not fucking move! They repaint, put down new carpeting and wallpaper and they move right back into the same fucking house on the flood plain, next to the river, and then they wonder why grandma’s floating downstream with the parakeet on her head! Fourth time, again, fourth fucking time. There’s no learning curve with these people. It’s very hard to feel sorry for them. Every year – same people, same rowboats! Out there paddling around… rescuing a chicken. What the fuck kind of a life is that? “Well our kids love it here…? Oh really, what do they got, gills? And while they’re showing all that action on the screen, the announcer’s saying to me “It’s been raining steadily for three months now, the ground can’t any more water… The river is cresting higher than it has it two centuries, the levees have washed away…? And I just hope it keeps raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining and raining, and it rains steadily for five years… and then after that, for ten years it’s cloudy. With occasional showers. And the river never returns to its natural banks! It becomes a completely new river, and the borders of three states have to be changed, and all the maps and atlases have to be redrawn and reprinted… and no one’s couch ever completely dries out. For years and years, every time they sit down there’s always that little “Squish…? “Dan, Linda, come on in you guys, have a seat” – “Squish!” “Squish!” I like that. I’m an interesting guy.

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