Twice the Fun

So often those whose intentions are admirable, don’t consider the consequences of their intended good deeds. Placing a certain amount of presumption on the grantee, when considering the concept of good, can make them a bit uncomfortable.

 Most often when considering doing something one considers good, charitable like, they are most often thinking of how they would react should someone impose a similar wish or action upon them. Now, given the fact that no two people, let alone a universe of people, are alike, the likelihood of meeting ones’ expectations when lavishing their gifts on another, is small, to none.

I have a caring type family. A son who respects my, how should I put it, lifestyle, but infers, often prefers, to interject his modicum of acceptable existence on to me. For all the right reasons no doubt, but his, nevertheless. There comes a time in life when all a body wants, is to live and die in peace. That does not mean we are not partial to having requests honored, birthdays remembered, things like that, but as far as walking in my shoes, they don’t have a clue, nor should they. It is however that supposition of good will that usually ends up as a well-intentioned, traitorous act, as it does not include the intended in the evaluation of right and wrong, in the garden of their good an evil.

I understand that if whishes were horses, beggars would ride, but I also prefer that people not only ride the horse they brought but leave mine in the barn where I keep it.

My son means well, as does his co-conspirator in the match making process, but then they are under the illusion that because I am alone, I am alone. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I got a dog, a radio, and a computer I get my mail on, rain or shine. 

What I don’t expect either him or her, or anyone else to realize, is that some people, namely me, prefer the quiet that comes along with living your own life, and not living the life someone else thinks you should be living. I know that is a concept difficult for someone to grasp, but then beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and all we can do at times is be thankful that some of us are more blind than others. Some of us even prefer it to the bright light of possibility, when we’ve spent so much time perfecting our ability to close our eyes to stuff, we don’t need to see.

As the world flees its own arrogant presumptions, I find that being left behind at times gives one a perspective one does not get from the front row. You not only get to observe what lays a head of you, but you got your own back covered, in case something goes wrong. Now, I know that sounds cynical, and perhaps it is. But then I believe I may have earned the right to think, that what I think is just as important as what you may think. If I’m not prodding you to change your ways, I don’t see why you can’t respect my wishes to not be saved, from myself, by myself, or by anyone else.

Karen Lewandowsky was a neighbor of mine. She would be still if she hadn’t died unexpectedly. But then who dies expectedly. It was her dying that started the whole conundrum, one could if one was so inclined, predictably predict the outcome of, a well-intentioned gesture, given things remained static. But of course, they never do. Static only happens when humidity and friction collide, which is why people get electrocuted, which is something I would have believed old Karen Lewandowski would have known something about, being she was the retired science teacher from the middle school down the street.

She was a nice enough person, bit opinionated I assumed, she was after all, the daughter of a bar tender. We mostly said hello and goodbye with a wave. Don’t remember speaking to her at all, till she called me on the phone. Didn’t know who it was at first. Went to school with a Karen back when I could see better, but I don't think it was her that was calling me. Got my first Valentine card from her though. Had an orange sucker scotched to it.

“Hi,” she says, “This is Karen.” Well, I don’t know a lot of people, and a whole lot less Karen’s, so I had to think a bit, if it wasn't the one I had in mind.

 Attempting to not be to suave, I replied, “Who?” That is where I made my mistake. Should have hung up. I think she got me mixed up with someone else but couldn’t remember who. Anyway, after a time when she had to tell me about how being retired wasn’t all it was supposed to be, now that she was alone…it hit me right then that my son had something to do with this. Or maybe his partner in trying to get me from being lonely, which I ain’t.

She talked for half the night about everything I didn’t care about, and then as she was hanging up, she asked how Jerry was doing. He’d had her as a teacher some years ago and I guess she felt comfortable enough to call him Jerry, although it made me uncomfortable, as my name is also Jerry. I was hoping she wasn’t getting the two of us mixed up. 

So, we made a date to go to Bingo together on Friday. Usually go alone, cause I like goin alone. Can come home if I’m not winning, and don’t have to explain why. But I thought, well If’n she needs someone to show her how the card works, I could do that. She’s probably too embarrassed to just ask a stranger. 

When all was said and done, I gave Jerry a call. He claims to have had nothing to do with the match making and neither did his partner. Strange, people have partners today, we had wives, girlfriends, things like that. But then times change. 

This all happened on a Monday. On Tuesday I thought I’d better brush up on the rules about Bingo, so I didn’t give her any false information about how the game is played.

 She got struck by lightning on Wednesday morning, but it never hurts to brush up on Bingo rules. She was standing outside in a storm, hanging on to the handrail of the steps, when lighting jumps from the tree in her front yard, goes to the railing, and right into her. She went quick, so that was a blessing for her I assume, never having been struck by lightning before myself. 

So, Jerry, he comes over after he hears, and he needs to know how I’m doing what with her being murdered by lightning and we are being close neighbors and all. I pretended to take it hard, cause otherwise he would have felt he went through all that trouble for nothing. I told him about our date that wasn’t goin to happen and he just looks at me. He acted like he had had nothing to do with pinning Karen on me. I couldn’t hardly believe him, but then I had always told him if he was going to lie, the least he could do, was be convincing. 

We went to the service the following Saturday. She looked pretty good. Better than when I’d seen her last, but then she was a ways off. There were a lot of old teachers there, some I even knew. They all were telling me they were sorry for my loss. I didn’t quite know what to say, but as I learned over the years, best not to say anything. Let them make up their own stories, don’t bother me none, and maybe it would give her legacy a bit of a boost.

We hung around for a while because Jerry knew a lot of the teachers. He spent a lot of time in after school curriculum having to do with study halls. Before we left, we made it to the front where she was resting. I didn’t really know what to say, being that I never really talked to her but that once on the phone. But I thought it really my duty as a neighbor to say something, being that she felt she knew me so well.

I began by telling her how much fun Bingo was. I won twenty dollars, course I left it there, cause the church needs it more than I do. At least they act like they do. I thought while I was there, I’d explain the Bingo cards, how they worked, and some of the strategies I’d picked up over the years. I was about halfway through explaining when Jerry comes and says, “We got to go.” I say, “Why? What’s the rush?”

He goes into this thing about people are watching and maybe her husband Gerry, in the back, don’t think I should be talking to his ex-wife like we were a couple. So, I decided being the gentleman I am, I’d leave it up to Karen. She didn’t say nothing, so I kept telling her about the strategies when my son pulls me out of there. I was getting the feeling that Karen would have been good at Bingo cause when she wasn’t on the phone, she didn’t have much to say, but seemed to be paying a lot of attention. And that's what it takes to be good at Bingo.