Scheat Happens (Blog #476)

Last week, on Friday, July 13, my car Tom Collins and I (technically) celebrated our one-year anniversary. I “bought” him a year ago, although that sounds so trashy to say it like that. I like to think he CHOSE to be with me. Regardless, I was so distracted by our trip to Houston and Dallas that I COMPLETELY forgot about our important day. (So sorry, Tom.) Normally I’m stellar with dates and anniversaries, but in this case, I’m THAT guy.

Thankfully, Tom isn’t the type to hold a grudge.

Or maybe he is.

A few months ago, Tom’s “check engine” light came on. It’s a long story (which I’ve already told), but I ended up having his spark plugs replaced, and the light went off. But some days it will come on for maybe an hour or two, at most a day, then go off again. My mechanic said, “Don’t be concerned.” Well, on THE VERY MORNING of our anniversary, just as I was leaving Houston, that damned yellow light came on again. This time, Tom was kind of shuddering, which is what happened when this problem originally popped up. It’s like he was saying, “Hey, asshole, aren’t you forgetting something?”

Of course, I still didn’t remember.

Instead, I pulled over and turned off Tom’s engine. (Calm down, darling.) Then I started it back up, and the shuddering stopped. The light, however, has been on ever since. My family and I are leaving town in a few days to see my sister in Albuquerque, and since I’ve been needing an oil change anyway, I figured I could have everything–the oil and the engine light–looked at and taken care of at once. But since I’ve been doing odd jobs for some friends this week, I haven’t had time to attend to these matters.

Again, so sorry, Tom. Please forgive me.

Miraculously, the light went off yesterday, and my dad–thank God for fathers–arranged to have Tom’s oil changed and everything inspected. So last night I dropped Tom off at the shop a few blocks from our house and walked home, looking for stars the whole time. The constellation Pegasus is up after midnight or one, and it’s pretty easy to spot. It’s a huge square in the east, and I like it because it contains a star named Scheat (Beta Pegasi), which is probably pronounced “sheet,” but I pronounce “SHEE-AT.” (As in, Scheat, I forgot my anniversary.) If you’re looking at the screenshot below (from the Stellarium app), Scheat is the bright corner star just to the left of the label “Pegasus.”

This morning (well, afternoon), when I woke up, Tom Collins was ready to go. My dad had coordinated with the shop, and they’d done a clean-up for Tom’s insides. I’m not good with automobiles, but I’m picturing a car colon cleanse, something that flushes all the gunk out. Anyway, when Dad and I went to the shop to pick Tom up, the guy said the flush should take care of the engine light issue and that we were “all set” to go to Albuquerque.

Scheat happens.

Now it’s time for me to do more odd jobs. Most likely, I’ll be up late tonight–like Pegasus–then up early again tomorrow. The next few days promise to be a whirlwind. But this is life. Some days we rest, and there’s nothing to do. Other days it’s go-go-go. We forget anniversaries. Scheat happens. Meanwhile the stars slowly and calmly make their way through the heavens. One day rising and the next day falling, they don’t make a big deal about any of it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can rise above. You can walk on water.

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Feeling Oh-So-Welcome (Blog #471)

Yesterday I left Houston about one o’clock and drove to Dallas for dinner with a friend. We ate Mexican and were given complimentary magic desserts that were cold to the touch and made fog come out of our mouths and noses. I’m not kidding. Some sort of dry ice thing, maybe. Anyway, after dinner I dropped my friend off at a play, then went to ANOTHER bookstore–number six in the last two days. But this time I just looked–I didn’t buy anything. I did, however, notice how badly my toe was hurting, I guess because I stubbed it earlier in the day. So when I left the bookstore, I taped my hurt toe to the toe next to it with electrical tape, which–believe it or not–helped.

Sometimes I can be really clever.

Having decided that I would stay in Dallas, I went to The Roundup, the land of unicorns–or, rather, gay cowboys. I’ve been there a number of times to two-step, and it’s always been fun. Last night, however, didn’t live up to my expectations. For one thing, I went alone, and although I recognized some faces, I didn’t “know” anyone. So for thirty minutes I just stood around watching, trying to work up the courage to ask someone–anyone–to dance. Finally, I did–I asked a girl who was a great, probably trained, dancer–and she said no, she was taking a break. So that sucked–it’s never fun to muster the courage to ask someone to dance and then be turned down, even if they’re “nice” about it.

Going back to my perch, I waited a while then tried again. This time I asked a lesbian, but someone else got to her at the same time I did. I said, “Will you save me a dance for later?” And get this shit–she didn’t say yes. Instead she said, “Do you know how to dance?” Opening my mouth like a codfish and bobbing my head, I said, “Yeah.”

So that sucked too. In nearly twenty years of asking others to dance, this was the first interview process I’ve ever been a part of. Strike two. I think I waited close to an hour before I tried again with someone else. This time I asked a guy who was the best dancer there. I’d met him once before, although I’m sure he didn’t remember. Anyway, he said yes and was very kind. However, he treated me like a beginner and only led the basic pattern. He said, “I’m testing you.” I guess I didn’t pass. Granted, they do a different form of two-step in Dallas than I’m used to, but I HAVE danced it several times in the past. Plus, I’m no slouch on the dance floor. I can almost always keep up. (I do teach dance for a living.) Of course, he didn’t know that.

Regardless, it bruised my ego.

After these three successive experiences, I had a series of good dances–nothing amazing, but good. All with kind people, one of whom approached me. And that was nice. But the point is this–even with all my years of dancing and objectively being able to say that I was one of the top five dancers in the club last night, it never really gets easier to approach strangers and ask them to dance. No one wants to be rejected. I don’t know if you’ve ever had this experience, trying to break into an already established crowd. I really think that’s what it was about. Most the places I go, people know that I can dance. But to the group last night, I was just an outsider.

I definitely felt not-so-welcome.

Caroline Myss talks about tribal dynamics, the way any group instinctively protects their own and is cautious of The Other. She says it doesn’t matter if it’s a crowd of teenagers, a fraternity, or a bunch of dancers–there’s always an initiation process or hazing for new members. “I’m testing you,” is what the guy told me. Back to the idea of the tribe, had I passed the guy’s test, he probably would have introduced me to his friends, let them know “this dude’s all right.” Maybe he would have asked me to dance again. Since I didn’t pass his test, however, I stayed outside, at least for him and his friends.

Understanding this helps me to not take last night personally. It didn’t help last night, mind you. What did help was a man named Carlos, who danced with me and smiled the entire time. (Never underestimate the power of your smile.) He said, “Don’t be nervous.” Still, I couldn’t shake that icky feeling from earlier, so about midnight I thought, I’m done with this shit and left, heading across the street to meet my friend from dinner. Then when we finished visiting, I ate chicken and waffles, loaded up on coffee, and hit the road for home. I thought, I don’t want to wake up in this city. So I drove all night–from two until seven in the morning. Not that I would recommend this behavior to anyone else–driving while you’re exhausted–but that’s what I did. And it did help chill me out a little–I got to see some stars–I even got to see the sunrise–I got to sleep in my own bed.

Today has been better. I’m still tired from this past week and staying up last night, but things are coming into perspective. This afternoon a good friend reminded me, “We all have off days.” Plus, I’ve spent today taking care of myself, doing things I love–reading, window shopping. Tonight I installed a fun light-switch cover a friend gave me over a year ago. It has gears and a lever that moves up and down to turn the switch on and off. This reminds me of my childhood, since I made something similar out of Tinker Toys when I was little (and I AM IN THE SAME ROOM).

Because I’m living with my parents.

Earlier I stepped outside to look at the stars. Because of my travels and light pollution in “the big city,” this is the first time I’ve been able to “take in” the full sky in over a week. I really have missed it. Lying down in our driveway, I began to relax. There’s just something calming about the stars, especially once you begin to recognize the constellations. Hercules, The Serpent Bearer, Bootes (pronounced Boe-OH-teez)–it’s like they are their own tribe, smiling down upon and welcoming every single one of us. Now I can’t wait to go back out there. There’s a meteor shower going on in Aquarius this month, and I wonder if I can see it yet. (It peaks in two weeks.) It really is wonderful how the heavens can erase your worries; how their quiet, steady movements can gently remind you to slow down; how their large open arms can make you feel oh-so-welcome here.

[I snagged the above screenshot from a desktop application called Stellarium, which allows you to look at the stars as they appear anytime, anywhere in the world. Shown here is what the sky looked like in Van Buren, Arkansas, at 11:00 this evening. (It’s 1:00 now.) Notice the three planets–Jupiter, Saturn, and Mars–and the imaginary line that they appear to travel along, the ecliptic. The text in green on the left-hand side is where the meteor shower should be, just “behind” Mars.]

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Nothing is set in stone here.

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