Since I am trying to update this blog semi-regularly before finishing up The Grittier Side (vol 2.) I decided to throw a couple of pieces up from the first issue for those of you who hadn't purchased, borrowed, stole or read a copy:
Jumpin Like A Girl For Squirrels In The Name Of The Lord
There is a stereotype attached to Catholic schools about being beaten by nuns with rulers and taught to fear hell and the devil. But I'm actually going to save my tales of metal lined straight edge rulers finding their marks on my devil worshipping 7 year old wrists for a goooood therapist. Or at least someone waiting for the #1 bus at the Mass Ave. bus stop when I decide I just want to drool and yell all day at passerby.
I will share a quick tale from the nunnery for now though that has always stayed with me. A nun was walking through a forest-like section of Mission Hill separating Alleghany St. from Cherokee St. (We used to call it "The Jungle" as kids and that was where I'd later hide with friends and smoke cigarettes when I was 13. Also when I was 10 a bug flew down my throat as I barreled through the rocky dirty pathway on my bicycle. I'm actually still waiting to die from that and/or have my mommy "take it out") As she was walking through, a squirrel came scampering up to her, as squirrels do. But this squirrel happened to be rabid and promptly chomped down on her ankle and would not release it from its teeth. This Nun, who was probably Chevy Chase, screamed for help and ran about with a squirrel fixed to her ankle, causing a priest nearby to come to her assistance with a rifle and blasted the critter off of her.
I personally don't see why priests or the Catholic church in general doesn't devote the lions share of their sermons to Rabid Satan Squirrels, because this story terrified me as a kid. I feel they could really get their numbers back up. I mean come on! The devil is more played out than a backwards Judas Priest record. What about these squirrels? I have yet to hear about Rob Halford or K.K. Downing attacking nuns. Which leads to my next thought:
Has anyone ever actually played a Chipmunks record backwards?
But I've also been meaning to start a new religion anyway, so maybe I'll hold off on that petition for a bit.
I was walking to work the other day, taking the scenic route in as I usually do on a nice day. I had just picked up a tea from Tealuxe on Newbury Street and was going to cut through the Public Gardens and the Common on my way to the Financial District downtown. I had a cup of "Lady Londonberry" tea steeping and I was so proud of myself for even being able to order a drink called "Lady Londonberry" without fear of shame or ridicule. I entered the Public Garden and as I had walked maybe 50 feet through noticed a flurry of squirrels running up and down trees and over dying grass, which is a pretty normal sight for the area. However, one of these squirrels after running around on the ground for a second darted out onto the pavement. Typically these are timid animals and will run the second someone is too close, which I felt I was.
The squirrel, dead center in my path, turned around and looked towards me real quick, almost like a wildlife Peter Venkmen and his Slimer.
It then began racing at me.
Still walking, I was saying to myself "Eh, it will run off." But it actually got about 2 inches away from my ankle. You know, what? I'm bullshitting.I don't know if it was 2 inches away. I didn't have a ruler nearby, because I'm still terrified of them from parochial beat downs. In any event this evildevilbeast was close enough that its tail had actually touched my jeans.
This resulted in me jumping in the air like a frail old woman. Or at least a semi-professional hackey sacker determined to do that jester and get the full hack.
My headphones and blood pressure were up high enough that the laughter of those nearby didn't even phase me. I picked up the pace and kept soldiering on. You know, like a solider. I was about to cross the footbridge and from out of nowhere, another squirrel loomed in front of me. Maybe it was the same squirrel. I don't care if you think I'm racist. Because They all look alike to me.
And they all want to kill me.
Again, this squirrel came running towards me. Again I said ".....it will pass?" And again I found myself jumping in the air like a 12 year old girl on a trampoline because I am a pussy. I couldn't believe it.
This actually wasn't the worst case of a rodent attacking me. Two others come to mind.
1) Twenty one years old and sleeping on the couch at my parents house, I awake to feeling something on my foot. My eyelids bearing the weight of sleep pull back enough that I can see a mouse on my foot. This caused me to pull off some sort of move that you will never see in a kung- fu movie without million dollar effects. It was a kicking, sweeping move that somehow had me levitated for a second and then on my feet for more jumping and panicking. As an aside, I feel this would be a much better way of waking someone up than a simple alarm clock. I would like to invent a clock that doesn't beep or buzz but actually lets a mouse out attached to a rope and jumps on you, or perhaps sends a spider free falling down from the ceiling as some sort of snooze button. I think tardiness due to oversleeping would be a thing of the past.
2) 20 years old. I had just worked a long shift at De Lucas Market on Newbury Street. It was the weeknight when all the new groceries had come in and we had to stay and price them and put them on the shelves. We usually ended up getting out around 1 in the morning, or usually too late to catch a bus. I love to walk so I'd usually make the walk back to my apartment in Mission Hill from Newbury Street, weather permitting. I'll try to sound as hip as I can, but I had just....you know...."done weed"? And that obviously made for a bit more of a paranoid walk alone at night. I had my headphones up loud enough to be aloof to everything around me. I was walking down Mass Ave. right where the Christian Science building is.
As soon as I walked past a trashcan.
A rat jumped out of it seemingly from out of nowhere, blindsiding me.
This huge rat landed right on my chest and then ran down my leg and into the darkness.
You could have put me on ice skates. You could have put me in spandex. You could have put me in front of a high jump. I could have won the gold medal in every Olympic division from the maneuver I did. Because I was determined to jump to the sky (like a girl) and then plummet to my own death.
To make matters worse as I continued home I could "feel" the rat still on me. I twitched my way up Huntington Ave., and around Mass Art saw a man with a huge cast on his leg lying on the sidewalk with his hands outstretched. I turned my walk man off, curious to hear what he was saying. He was laying there whimpering, asking for help in a real broken, battered voice. I was freaked out from the rat and was always cautious to help a shady stranger in the middle of the night on an empty street. I think I had just sheepishly said "Sorry." as I walked by.
Right as he was out of my vision, I could feel a whoosh of air behind me. The man had leapt to his feet and although I should have wondered "Gee, I wonder of a mouse just landed on his foot and woke him up too?" He screamed "YOU WHITE MOTHAFUCKA! GIMME YO SHIT!" and began running at me. Unfortunately for him the cast, though brilliant in theory, really slowed him down. The irony of me running into the Mission Hill projects at 2 in the morning for safety is a whole 'nother story I suppose.
But back to the present, I was making fun of myself for these girly acrobatic movements I treated a lunchtime crowd to and crossed over to The Commons.
I ended up behind a NASCAR family clad in....what else? NASCAR windbreakers, Asics, (I didn't see if they had the gel, but the husband did look like a provider) sweat pants, and stone washed jeans out for an afternoon stroll. Their son, who looked well fed from his breakfast of powdered drinks and powdered donuts ran off onto the grass off of the cracked, jagged concrete walkway and began chasing.... Anyone? Anyone?
A squirrel.
A squirrel that was headed right towards me.
After coming down from the air and landing on a bench with Lady Londonberry splashed against my jacket, I could only help but think.
"Man, they should really send that kid to a Catholic School."
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