The Trickster Diaries/Chapter 66
I’m trying to stay away from this new toy. Ello, that is. Don’t I have something better to do? Truth is I’m working a lot on the computer these days—digital photo collage. So I’m just… HERE, all the time. The other truth is I’m irresistably curious about my new friend, the GIF maker.
After supper (salmon, brown rice, stir fry vegies) I step outside for a smoke. Big fat yellow moon just above the eastern horizon, the city lights sparkle beneath it. Otherwise total blackness.
My 13th year out here, I think to myself. Same house. That’s longer than I’ve ever lived anywhere, by far, and my cats will BE 13 in January. They COULD out-live me. I thought they WOULD out-live me that night I couldn’t breathe. Honestly, I haven’t cared so much one way or the other. But now…
I squish the cigarette out on the brick patio and come back inside.
I scroll down one, two, and Jesus! There’s Dana Wynter’s bubbling, foaming head! No choice. I HAVE to comment.
Me: OMG! It’s Dana Wynter’s bubbling, foaming head from the greenhouse scene in Invasion of the Body Snatchers!
Me: Brilliant. Much eerier in GIF form.
Her: (YouTube link included) It’s subtext, really, but more symbolism.
I click on the link. It’s an animated commercial spoof. There’s a washing machine and some unhappy people dressed in dirty clothes standing around. Then, from a box that resembles the rising sun design on a Tide laundry detergent box, (only it’s called Pod laundry detergent), somebody plops a palm sized soap pod into the machine and they all dive in. Then they all jump out—clean, happy, dressed in evening attire, smiling ear to ear.
Wait. Is this really happening? Someone who comprehends the film’s deeper implications? Yes. Obviously, you idiot.
Me: You know, it’s really quite wonderful running into someone who hasn’t fallen asleep in the tunnel.
There’s a “ding” but she’s taken it off this thread and posted four or so posts down on my channel, so others are ulikely to read.
Her: Time we took this “off campus,” don’t you think? Here’s my private email.
It was the same as her mysterious username on Ello, only followed by @aol.com. So I send her an email: “Lovely idea,” I write.
Her: Wonderful meeting you, Robert. I’m Juliette, btw.
Me: Likewise, Juliette.
Juliette: Have a beautiful evening.