Monthly Archive for August, 2009

10 Moments in History I Wish I Could Experience

Last night as we watched a documentary on the history of street gangs, I suddenly realized I wished I could pick moments in the past and go back to experience them. History is full of great stories, important moments, and it would be great (and also scary) to actually experience them. 

Chris and I came up with a partial list last night. These are not in any particular order. And also, there aren’t 10. That’s because we had to stop talking about it before we came up with 10 moments–you’ll see why.

#1 I’d like to be at the Boston Tea Party.  Imagine the fear and excitement sweating out of people’s pores as they got carried away in their anger against taxation without representation. Imagine the harbor turning black with tea leaves. Imagine the stolid Puritans dressed like Indians and hooting in indignation,  “Nyah to you, old King George” and ”Take that, Great Britain.”

mandela#2  I’d definitely want to be in South Africa in 1994, on the day Nelson Mandela won the first democratic elections in the history of the country and was voted in as the first black president of South Africa. I’d like to see the lines of elderly black people who suffered under apartheid for fifty years waiting to vote. I’d want to get carried away, joining the women ululating and dancing the toyi-toyi in jubilation.

#3 Chris said he’d like to see Nero playing his violin  and watching Rome burn down to the ground.  (This website says there were no violins in Rome at the time. But the image is a striking one. ) 

#4 I said I’d like to be in Jerusalem during the 3 days after Jesus died. “Just to see what really happened,” I said.

“Yeah,” Chris said. “I’d be standing in front of that tomb on the third day. You couldn’t drag me away from it.”

#5 Both of us wanted to be there for the Emancipation Proclamation of 1863, the day President Lincoln declared that American slaves had been set free.

nazi-at-large-4#6 Chris said he’d like to be with WWII troops as they liberated people from the concentration camps in Germany at the end of World War II.

“Can you imagine?” I said. “No matter what you’d heard about it, nothing could prepare you for the sight of these starving people wearing smocks in 3 feet of snow. The gas chambers. The bodies piled up.”

“That’s why some of the troops went crazy and just lined up the Nazi soldiers and executed them on the spot,” Chris said. “They recognized that what the Nazis had done was totally insane and inhumane and they said to themselves, ‘You don’t deserve to live.’”

“Don’t you think some of the things going on since then are just as bad?” I asked. “I mean, Rwanda. Saddam Hussein.”

“Maybe, but the Nazis experimented on people. I mean, they made lampshades out of human skin. Who the **** does that?” Chris asked.

The conversation quickly deteriorated into a depressing discussion of human cruelty and what our responsibility is to stop these kind of inhumane acts. And that is why we never made it past #6 on the list. The human lampshades did it.

Still, I’d like to hear from others. What are 10 moments in history you’d like to witness? Or what’s your top moment, the one historic moment you wouldn’t want to miss if you could be there?

Share

Pen Kleptomaniac

Pilot preciseI used to experience serious pen lust on a daily basis. It was all I could do to keep my hands off of a good pen.

I used to make jokes about it when I’d hand a pen back to a friend after borrowing it. “I don’t want to be a pen thief,” I’d say, all moral and righteous, while in truth I was thinking (in the back of my head), “Sucker! If your pen was halfway decent, it’d be mine, all mine, hahahahahahahaha.”

I had a serious case of pen kleptomania for years.

The pen didn’t need to be expensive. In fact, cheapo pens were good, as long as the ink flowed well. My drug pen of choice? Pilot Precise V-7 point, with blue or black ink.

A guy much younger than myself once seduced me because of his Pilot Precise V-7 point pen with light blue ink, something I had never seen before. Later, when I emailed him to say, “Sorry for stealing your pen, ha-ha,” he wrote a long email back letting me know he’d noticed how I glanced longingly at the pen, how I kept caressing it after he’d let me borrow it, how I kept subtly offering to return it to him even while snatching it back, how I’d secretly and surreptitiously (or so I thought) secreted it in my purse.

I was a goner for him.

There was even a time in my mid-teens when I couldn’t write my novel if I didn’t have the perfect pen with, yes, college ruled paper. (Wide-ruled just didn’t feel right and you couldn’t develop good characters or plot if you didn’t have the right kind of paper to match the right kind of pen.)

A few days ago, I went looking for a good pen and came up empty. What happened? It used to be that a good pen was more important than a good boyfriend. A bad boyfriend provided all sorts of material for angst-ridden poetry, but a bad pen only produced scratches and gouges and scribbles on a reluctant piece of paper. So what had happened to all my decent pens?

And then I realized. I don’t steal people’s pens anymore and I don’t buy decent pens anymore because I use my computer 24-7.

*Sigh.*

You know what I really miss? Ink stains. When I was in my early twenties, I swear, I thought ink stains were sexy. On me, of course. (I didn’t notice whether the guy had ink stains or not.) What guy wouldn’t want to date a passionate poet with ink all over her hands? It made me interesting. Mysterious.

And I’m sure they secretly found it totally hot, but in their out-loud voice, they usually mentioned mundane things like my eyes or my rear-end, never the ink-stained hands.

In all seriousness, I do miss pens. Pilot Precise V-7 point pens with blue or black ink, that is. Do other people still use pens the way I used to—with passion and fervor? Did other people experience the same ardor for ink?

Just curious.

Share