“That frog,” I told Joe, “is going to get stomped on.”
Remembering a former new age-y boss, who once confessed to me during a long Christmas shift at Waldenbooks, that he had a groundhog spirit guide, I decided to reference the frog in Ted Andrews book, Animal Speak.
According to Andrews, if a frog has presented itself, “it may be time to breathe new life into an old project or goal.”
The frog is a symbol of fertility, rebirth and resurrection. Since I’m in no hurry to get preggers, I took this is as a message to get cracking on The Book, which I realize has nothing to do with returning The Dress.
Armed with frog knowledge I took off to purchase a present for a friend in downtown St. Pete, and as usual, I passed a gaggle of bums, and as usual, one of them called out to me.
“M’am,” he croaked. “Can you spare some change so I can get ointment for my foot.”
This is a new one, I thought. Foot ointment. Surely this bum – I’ll call him Jed – has milked other ailments in the past, but foot ailments? C’mon, dude. Wear shoes and your feet won’t slough off.
I reached into my purse, pulled out a dollar bill, handed it to Jed and snapped, “That foot. Is dis-gusting.”
Jed took the dollar bill and nodded gratefully, his ruddy face creasing in the afternoon sun like an origami crane. It hit me just then, like a sack of bricks to the belly, that bums are ageless. Not ageless in the sense that they are young, but ageless in the sense that they are without an age. To those of us who pass them by, bums are just bums with no names and no ages. No numbers and letters to hang over their heads. Just time.
“Linda,” said the one saleswoman. “Get over here. You’re not gonna believe how well this dress fits.”
“Like a glove!” Squealed Linda. “Oo! We’ve been waiting for someone to buy this dress!”
“How long do I have to return it?” I asked.
“Return it?” They snapped. “Why would you return it?”
And then, two weeks later I returned it. I think the saleswomen had a bet, because when I walked in with the dress in a Target bag, the one smirked at the other like, Itoldyouso.
“Well that’s too bad,” the one woman said. “It fit you like a glove.”
On my way up 2nd Avenue I passed Ann Taylor, walked inside and purchased a fetching tweed number for the rehearsal dinner.
all this website mod’ing is messing with my head heid haha
i love the new look –
and i loved the old dress? but im sure the actual dress is gorgeous! can’t wait to see pictures!!
and p.s. – is your “come back soon” character from the “amber brown” book series? cuz she certainly fits the mold…lol
Nope not Amber Brown. Just me if I were a cartoon with long hair.
I’m glad you like the new look. I’m a newb when it comes to design. NASA has put men on the moon with greater ease.
Interesting that mentioned the book, “Animal Speak” – I just looked at it on my shelf this morning and thought, “wow, I haven’t read that in a long time…” (2004 to be exact). I am reading your blog as you are a new Twitter Follower so it was neat to see a little bit of synchronicity today. That’s always nice. 🙂
Have a great day. I look forward to getting to know you on Twitter.
Zane Aveton
@zaneology
I was going to give you some Twitter advice to help you promote your blog because I uncharacteristically clicked on your spam barrage of links on your Twitter feed and I thought, Huh– this blog is not half bad.
Then I read this post.
I am AGHAST at your LACK of “humanity”. You were indignant and offended at the ladies at the store who didn’t say “good anything” to you and yet when presented with a man whose foot just might even have to be amputated, you told him it was disgusting and gave him all of one dollar. When telling his friend to get Jed to a clinic, you forgot to add, “…after you collect a lot more money because, of course, a dollar isn’t going to get you anywhere.” Maybe you don’t have much money or didn’t have much on you. That’s understandable. What is not understandable is your comments to him. Not, “I hope that gets better soon!” or “I’m so sorry. That looks painful.” No, you “snapped” that his foot was “dis-gusting”. Where was your compassion? You judge some ladies for having poor manners when you lacked something greater?
Your first thought was “Foot ointment? Ah, this is one I haven’t heard before.” You were judging him. Sure, a lot of homeless people suffer from alcoholism, to try and shut out the pain of their world, but not all of them do. And because you cannot know for certain, you should never, ever take it upon yourself to judge. Live generously without judging and be blessed while letting the sin of lying be upon the head of he who lied to get money from you.
You couldn’t have taken him to the clinic yourself and asked someone to fix his foot? Asked if they had any sort of charity program or whatnot? I don’t know how it works there. In Canada you don’t have to pay for basic health care– everyone is cared for.
Even the word you use for these people– “bums”– associates them with something lowly and maybe they are by appearances. But when judgment day comes, it’s very possible that these bums will rise higher than you, because they’ve very likely been given very little with which to work.
And even if you don’t believe in God, you claim to believe in humanity. But you begrudged it.
Even to sandwich such a sad issue like homelessness in with your prophetic tree frog and your wedding dress shopping is so dismissive!
I NEVER leave critical comments on people’s blogs. But you really don’t seem to have any idea how this post comes across and since you put it out there, and you linked to it, and you’re trying to drive more traffic to it, and you’re trying to become a writer, I couldn’t in good conscience walk by and just toss you a measly dollar.
Best of luck with not stepping on the tree frog, finding the right dress, and dealing with “the bums”.
Phew. Natasha. It’s a good thing I love Canadians.
I’ll have to sleep on your criticism and get back to you on your blog, which by the way, is not half bad either.
Note that I specifically tried to comment on what I saw as your behaviour (though, an annoying word that is– sounds like I’m addressing a child) and not you as a person.
I can see why Natasha might’ve read this single post and thought poorly of you for it. If the post stood alone as a testament to your character, it does come off poorly.
I begin to see by what you might think of as symbolism or juxtaposition. But I don’t really see it without it being pointed out. It reminds me more of the story in the Bible of the man who begged his master to give him more time to pay a debt, only to have his master forgive it. Then he turned around and refused to forgive a far smaller amount from his debtor.
But with the fine explanation you provided on Natasha’s blog, I’m sure you do plenty to help the poor, directly and possibly indirectly. That should definitely be saluted. Sometimes, though, people pick up in the middle of a story and don’t get the context that makes this chapter so funny. I’ve definitely chewed my foot off a few times by misunderstanding a story and cracking wise too quickly.
(see the juxtaposition there?)
And yes, I realize you didn’t ask for any critiques. Or of you did, it was on another post. Which I didn’t read. So no need to feel attacked. I just felt like putting my two cents in. (Did I mention having a bad habit of doing that?)
Happy blogging.
Robert, Natasha:
I lavish in your feedback – good, bad, indifferent. I’m just so damn happy to have new readers.
I know the feeling. I mainly keep writing because I am told by various parties they read and never comment, but my blog has gone without comment for over a week now, and it seems like I’ve run out of readership. I enjoyed reading quite a few of your posts last night.