MichaelJNedell.com

The other night I went outside to call for the cat before heading to bed.. I threw a puffer coat  over my jeans and tshirt – slid my sandals on my sock-covered feet and went out the back door. It was wet outside, after a short rain that day, still not freezing but cold -the month long permanent freeze that comes every winter had only teased us a day or two so far and that night the wind was gentle and warm. It was almost pleasant walking down the  driveway with the moon nearly full and the stars all sparkly and the streetlights glowing and the neighbourhood all quiet – it was just cold enough to bring a mist to the damp ground, gently airbrushing the ground with a haze. 

I turned right at the bottom of the driveway and strode the sidewalk past Mark and Maries house, the wild tangle of the bare bushes in front of their house poking out a quarter way poking out just to  the sidewalk. Brown, interdependent, pointy multitudes of thin bare shoots leading back to thicker branches, to a naturally wild bunch of roots. 

We have rose bushes that do that in front of our house – bare now too – they poke out into the sidewalk a little. We call it the ‘first line of defence’ half-kiddingly. Mostly Sarah and I like the flowers. But it does feel like a pretty layer of nature’s dangers protecting our haven from the societal wilds of the street.

Speaking of wild – I wondered where that darn cat had gotten off to. I walked past their house, their driveway, calling out for him. 

It’s not even our cat, but he needs a place to sleep, and we have made: two drawers, half a closet floor and a random box with a towel – into beds for him. So maybe it is our cat after all. Sometimes he doesn’t show up for days and I feel happy for him. I imagine him out there catting it up and causing trouble and I love that for him. It’s like I have learned to say to myself during many experiences in life – “You don’t get to be a good trouble-shooter without getting into a little trouble once in a while. And everyone needs to know how to troubleshoot.”

I stopped in Mark and Marie’s driveway and called out the cat’s name, just a little louder than a whisper, careful not to alarm the neighbours, and I clapped my hands gently twice. The cat popped out of the shadows across the street and strut pranced across the asphalt, saying “What’s up” to me in a longer cat language meow of recognition. I turned and started slow walking backwards, saying hello back to the cat, telling him I was happy to see him with half word sounds.

He paused to rub his cheek on the stones that edged Mark and Maries bushes, just under the lowest overhang of thickets. I watched him and then turned to look at our house. The person in the upstairs apartment had a Christmas tree on the porch and it was all lit up and festive looking. I looked at our porch, at our tattered Tibetan peace flags flapping in the soft breeze. I made a mental note I have probably already made to replace those soon. And find the Christmas lights in the basement.

I turned to cajole the cat to follow me and walked backwards. “Come on in Mister Cat, we need to find the Christmas lights and festive up our porch a bit.” I walked backward up our driveway watching him follow me, guiding him into the back door and into the house. 

He went into the kitchen and sat in front of the empty food bowl as I took off my jacket and sandals and put them away. I heard him meow with an instinctual hunger that I have come to know. 

“Yea yea yea” I muttered, walking into the kitchen, getting a can of food from on top of the fridge, stepping over him to the sink to grab a bowl, pop the can and fork some smelly brown meaty goop flakes out for him, fluffing and poking it to fully cover the bottom of the bowl. A petite kitchen dance I have done too many times to count. I arranged the food pleasingly, adding five drops of water from a  barely running sink and stirring the bowl as I fluffed. 

I may not like having to feed cats this smelly stuff, but no meals go plated poorly in this house.

Happy with the circular balance of goo,  I slid the plate to the floor and he stepped to it and started eating it like a hungry goblin. 

I thought about Christmas lights, and promised myself to try to remember to find them tomorrow. Did I already promise myself to remember? Yesterday? Last year? All my thoughts seemed familiar.

I’ve listened to talks, and read articles recently on memory, and science says that there is no such thing – at least not how we have traditionally thought about it – there is no place in the brain where memories are stored or kept. When we remember things our brains are reconstructing a similar pattern that was made in the past, all our synapses and teeny tiny but no less magical electric sparks make patterns when thinking of past experiences. We reconstruct these patterns when remembering those experiences and they become instinctual and safe feeling. And from what the point of many of the talks and articles was – that new ideas and new thoughts create patterns too – differing more complex patterns – so we can guide our own minds to a more creationistic patterning – just as much as we can instil a known pattern by dwelling on a thought. 

We are making thought patterns and synapse surges with our thinking, setting off molecular brain fireworks from our ideas – or at least that is how I picture it. 

It has made me wonder about seeing a pattern in nature that we connect with. Is the pattern of the object itself similar to the patterns our synapses create? 

I went to make sure the front door was locked and looked out at the tattered peace flags waving gently in the darkness. Sarah says they have to nearly all disintegrate before we replace them. 

I tried to remember where the Christmas lights were and laughed, imagining the memory of the Christmas lights making a sparkling pattern in my mind like actual Christmas lights. Does thinking about Christmas lights make a darkened mind light up and feel festive? 

 I still had no idea where the heck the lights were.  I would have to search the basement tomorrow – or maybe the garage…

After I made sure the back door was locked and made ablutions, it was time for bed. The cat had beat me to it and was already snuggling with Sarah. I crawled up and joined them. 

It’s hard to believe another year has come and gone!! 2011 was another whirlwind of family fun and activity for us! We hope it was for you too!

Those who know me know I love to experiment with potentially dangerous chemicals. Well this year was no different! In my attempt to manufacture a compound that worked like glue, but would stay pliable, like clay, I made a small hole that burned through my workbench, the basement floor and about 12 feet down into the earth below the house. It smelled like static electricity in our house for weeks afterward and I am still experiencing a little light-headedness, but otherwise there doesn’t appear to be any permanent damage. The dog seems a lot smarter – and I guess that is a good thing. But you know what they say – back to the old drawing board!

If I could only find the drawing board!

Sarah has continued her fervent tag sale shopping and we are quickly running out of room. We built an addition on the back of the garage, but we either need to have a garage sale ourselves, or renovate the attic into a storage space.

I guess I could always drop more experimental compound in the basement and build a sub-basement!

For our vacation this year we went to Branson, Missouri. Sarah and I were doing some recon – as we plan to launch our Country and Western Comedy Circus sometime in the next few years. We had a lot of meetings and saw a lot of shows -our fave was Yackoff Smirnoff – the Russian comic. He is just hilarious. We met with him afterward and tried to buy him some shots of Vodka, but he just drinks organic juice now-a-days! Talk about your disappointments. We bought tickets to his show the next day with the intent of heckling him, but we ended up being too hungover to get out of bed.

But we did have fun. To this day whenever one of us has a bad day, one of us will turn to the other and say – “Well – we’ll always have Branson!” and it never fails to perk us up.

The dog and the cat have been getting along better then ever (perhaps due to the dogs increased intelligence?) – they have quite a little routine worked out where the cat pretends to run away from the dog, and the dog pretends to chase him. But when the cat gets cornered and flops on the ground, the dog spins the cat around on his back with its nose, so the cat becomes a little furry break dancer. He has even developed some moves to come out of the spin – up on his one back leg (he only has three legs) or I have also seen him do a little handstand, or rest his paws behind his head, rapper style. I will have to try and video tape that for the youtube one day. I am sure – as with all cat dancing videos – it will go viral.

Speaking of viral, I developed a strange sensation in my right arm and went to see the doctor. It was a classic “It hurts when I do this.” type situation, so I almost didn’t go, because I know I couldn’t resist saying that joke, and I know doctors must be tired of hearing it!

 

But I am glad I went – after multiple exhaustive tests and a retinue of probing exams they found a strange virus developing in my bicep. They haven’t seen anything like it before, so they want to keep the virus alive to better study it. So now I have that going on. Sometimes I swear I can hear the virus in my arm talking – and I guess the doctors heard things from it too, which is why they seem so curious about it. Maybe it’s a “Horton Hears A Who” type thing and I have an entire planet living in my bicep!

Mostly I hear it recite Joyce – not the author – just the name “Joyce”. Or I guess it could be saying “Joyeux” – you know… for the holidays.

Well, I better being going. I have a Country and Western Comedy Circus practice this evening and it’s my turn on the highwire!

Hope all your holidays are happy!

 

When Stanley was 14 he was invited to a party by a popular girl in his school. Things did not go well. I won’t go into all the details, but it was bad… all the kids at the party standing in a circle pointing and laughing at him bad… In the following years, after subsequent failed attempts at socializing Stan just gave up, and took a dislike to parties, and the people that throw them. And go to them. Or talk about them.

He, as the saying goes, threw himself into his work. He had a natural gift for math, yet deep in his heart he longed for romance – the romance he would never have – so he fell, like many in his situation, into physics. Physics attempts to explain both the unexplainable and the natural movement of the natural world, much like poetry. He studied hard, got a scholarship to MIT and got his Doctorate a full two years early. His final thesis on Einstein’s theory  was lauded throughout the physics world, yet still. Stanley never got over his anti-social streak. He ended up back living in his parents basement after college, taking a mediocre IT job with a local company, where he had little interaction with people, going in at night and preforming backups and system upgrades in the wee hours.

With his computer knowledge and the office relatively to himself, he sometimes logged into people social network sites (he didn’t have one – no one would have friended him). The pictures of parties and people having fun were overwhelming and threw him into strange frenzies. He would storm around the office ranting. More and more frequently these heightened feelings would stay with him after he left work and went home, to his basement.

One morning, as was often the custom when he arrived home, his mother would ask him if he wanted dinner. He grumbled a yes and sat down at the table while his mother served him leftover leatlof from yesterdays dinner. She, as mothers will, asked him in a sing song voice. “How was work last night dear?”

“It was fine mom.” he lied.

“Christmas is coming up dear, so you want anything in particular form Santa this year?”

“No mom.”

“And then New Years is right after! You should fine yourself a party to go to and have some fun. You know – I don’t think I ever told you this – but your Father and I would never have met if it wasn’t for a New Years Eve party. You see… my friend Jackie – you remember Jackie don;t you dear? Well she had a friend named Betty – Betty Maker – and Betty had a friend named…

His mother went on with her long winding story Stanley fumed. He ate his meatloaf and fumed. He ate his mashed potatoes and green beans and he fumed. Then he excused himself and went into the basement. His head was swimming and swimming with thoughts. He rolled his blackboard to the middle of the room and started doing equations. Sometimes this would clear his mind, but tonight his train of thought was so strong that the equations focused his attentions of New Years Eve and the parties he knew would happen without him. He focused on how to stop them from happening. He stood at the blackboard for eight hours straight – a personal record – and then exhausted, stepped back and looked at the board…. he couldn’t believe what he saw. He re-checked and re-checked again. “Holy Schmogogie!!” he exclaimed. I think… I think I can do it!

He set off to the local electronics “Shack” store and bought a series of wires and transformers and adapters. It was early day after Christmas morning and he had the store practically to himself. A salesgirl of indiscriminate age was helping find the items.

“I really didn’t even know we had some of these.” she said, opening a drawer of diodes in the less trafficed aisle of the store.

“Well – I could have taken a computer apart to get them, but it seemed easier to come in.”

“Yeah. Easier. What are you going to do with these things?”

“Ummm… I really shouldn’t say.”

“Wooookay…. you aren;t building bombs are you?”

“Ha. No – well… not really… it’s complicated.”

“Here it is,” she said, holding up a 5 pack of 1 amp diodes. “Well , was that is or was there something else?”

Stanley took a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and went down the list with his finger. “Do you have a cyclotronic phase reactor?”

“Right next to the remote control helicopters.”

“Really?”

“No. I don’t even know what a phase-o-tronic whatsamawhosie is. ”

“It’s like an advanced magnetron. I will have to take apart the microwave to build it I guess… . I am going to make a machine that can skip time. So New Years Eve will be skipped.”

“Cool. Wait. You mean for everyone?”

“No. Yeah. I am not sure really. Probably. I don’t know really.”

“Hmm… I wonder if I will still get a hangover?”

“Good question. I guess it depends on how much you drink.”

“And if your time-skipper skips me to the next day.”

“I guess.”

“I don’t really drink enough to hangovers.”

“Oh. Me neither.”

It suddenly occurred to Stanley that he might be flirting. That what he was experiencing was an extended period of interaction between two people that became casual… personal even. Wasn’t that flirting? He looked up from his list and into the girls eyes. She was looking at him. His eyes stared into hers… lowered slowly to her beautiful…

…name tag. “Betty” it said. He felt his face get flush. “I think that will be everything.” he said.

“Okay,” Betty said, moving towards the cash register. She could feel his nervousness and, being new to the job and a little nervous herself, she rung him up and he left.

She had almost forgot about him. As the days after Christmas turned busy with shoppers, and here she was learning the new quirks and intricacies of the job. You would not even believe the amount of people that need electronics.

Although new in town she was invited to a party that one of her coworkers was throwing. She wasn’t much of a ‘partier’, so at first she said no, but her coworker, Sally, had talked her into it. It would be pretty mellow, she said, her husband and her friends weren’t ‘party animals’ or anything like that. They would probably end up playing charades or something – at the very most one bottle of champagne might be opened. So she said yes. She was going through the closing rituals at the store, and as if for the first time allowed herself to get excited about enjoying a night out, when she remembered that guy who had come in early on the day after Christmas and bought the diodes.  “Oh!” she exclaimed aloud. “If he was successful making his… thingamawich…then I won’t even know if I have fun tonight!”

She looked through the computer for the transaction and got his name and address, and drove over to his house. His mother answered the door, and seem very very surprised to see her, but indeed let her in, offered her meatloaf and fresca, and then showed her to the basement door. “Stanley is down there.” she said.

She went downstairs and could not believe her eyes. Stanley was hunched over a large device festooned with wires and lights and gadgets. He was soldering something, wearing safety glasses.

“Stanley?”

“What mom?” he said absently.

“I’m not… mom.”

He looked up, his eyes became wide. “Betty!” he said. Then he jumped up, yelling “Ow! Ow ow ow ow!” He rushed to the workbench. Betty rushed to his side.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah… ow!” he stuck his finger in his mouth for a second and said, “Wi-juss-burrliill.”

“Huh?”

He popped his finger out of his mouth and said, “I just burned it a little. Nothing bad. What are you doing here?”

“Well… I was thinking about tonight. I got invited to my friends house and I was thinking that it might be fun, and then I remembered you… and your device…. I didn’t want to miss the party Stanley.. I really want to go and not skip over it… ” Her head turned toward the device. “And this… wow… so this is what diodes and magnocyclers look like all welded together huh?”

“Soldered. Yeah.” he walked up to it. “I ran a preliminary test on the temporal mediators, I think it should be good to go, as the kids say.”

“Stanley… can I ask you something?”

“Why do you want to skip New Years Eve? Or make it skip or whatever?”

“I hate parties. There’s always so much… well… I haven’t gone to one in a long while…”

“Why don’t you come with me to my party? I think it will be pretty mellow, you know, like charades and whatever. Just some people from the store, so they might know about capacitrons or whatever.”

“But.. what about my device? I was just about to start it up! Once I route the power from the servers in the corner I think there are only 5 or 6 steps, and then BAM! It will be tomorrow!”

“But I like right now. And I think I will like later too. I like all the times Stanley, that pass, even the rough ones and hard ones and long ones and boring ones. All the moments that go by… well… that makes us into who we are… right?”

“Yeah… I guess… but I think this machine can open slipstreams into temporal reality. I think it can have far reaching… you know.. ramifications!”

“That’s nice and all… but… listen… you don’t have to come if you don’t want to… but I think it will be fun. You seem like a nice enough person when you aren’t trying to escape life… so I’ll make a deal with you. You come with me to the party, and if you don’t like it you can leave, and flip the switch on your device here, and skip time over for as long as you like… but first… you should just give the party a try… I think it will be fun.”

He stood looking at Betty and turned things over in his mind. “Okay.” he said, “I’ll go with you.”

“Great!” she smiled.

“But if I don’t like it I will come here and skip ahead to next New Years Day… a whole year!”

“Okay… ” she said, rolling her eyes. “Deal.” she stuck out her hand and Stanley took it, They stood there for a second shaking hands slowly for a second and looking into each others eyes. Then Betty said. “Come on. Let’s go!”

And that is what they did.

__________________

Somewhere in the North Pole, Santa was snoozing in his easy chair, another year under his belt. And elf came rushing into the room, startling him awake. “Rummhhp… ahem.. yesss.. what is it Bimbley?”

“We just got this memo form the Northern Quadrant sir – those situations you were wondering about… ” Bimbley handed his the note, “looks like they’re going to work out for the best….”

“Ho ho ho! Of course it is Bimbley! Of course… some gifts arrive a little slower then others.”

“Yes Santa. Well Good night!”

“Good night to you too Bimbley – good night to all of us!”

“Will you be joining the Elves for the New Years Party Santa?”

“Oh no Bimbley… I’ve learned my lesson. You elves are too much on Old Saint Nick.”

“Well okay Santa. Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year to us all Bimbley! Happy New Year to us all!”

——————

Thanks for reading!

Michael Nedell

michael (at) vermontsnows.com