please stop tickling me

In which we laugh and laugh and laugh. And love. And drink.

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Location: Portland, Oregon

Otium cum Dignitatae

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Scars and Signs

My scar is hurting, for some reason. If you look really close, you can see the faintest scar bisecting my left eyebrow. This was acquired through stupid ass behavior.
When I was seven years old or so, my buddy from next door and I were examining some gully, and we found a cache of old rusty things. Now, as those of you who know me can attest, I love old rusty things, and the fact that I chose a tailpipe as the item I should take with me now strikes me as making some kind of sense.
My mom stepped out on the front porch to call me in for dinner, across the valley. I responded, and we began running down the hill. The whole time I was running, I still had that damn tailpipe in my hand, pumping up and down as I ran. Finally, inevitably, on one of the upward swings of my fist, the edge of the damn thing made contact with my eyebrow.
It didn't really hurt; just felt like a bump. I made it across the park that bears my great-grandfather's name, went into my house. I was saying, "Mom, I think I...", when my sister comes down the hall, sees me, points her finger and screams.
I now realized that I had blood running down the side of my face, and it was decided that I should seek medical attention. We visited Dr. Chuck at the emergency room, and I was informed that I was a lucky little boy, since the damn thing had not gone in my eye. Eight stitches.
So that was twenty-seven years ago, and I wonder why the damn thing is choosing today to start aching again. I'm trying to ask myself what this is an omen of. Has this happened before in the intervening twenty-seven years? If so, what did it portend?
I get other things like this. If a coyote crosses my path, major life change is on the way. Combinations of the number eleven tend to have a salubrious effect. If...Well, there's others, but...
One could look at it in another light. What does the scar represent? Or the placement of the scar, since scar is a pretty clear metaphor. Something taking attention from what the eye maybe should (or should not) see? Vanity crumbling before the inevitable march o' time? Something we're not acknowledging yet, that we should be? Something old that hasn't been dealt with? The scar itself being much deeper than previously thought?
I have another old scar like that. I stepped on a piece of glass in a pool, a couple years before the abovementioned. Again, I didn't realize how severe it was at the time: it just felt like I stepped on something, and when I took my foot out of the water, it was stretched in such a way that I could see an inch or so inside my sole, right near the instep.
I don't think it ever really healed. To this day, if my foot stretches in a certain way, I can still feel it, and it still hurts.
The foot is a powerful metaphor, too. I once had a dream that I was slicing off the soles of my feet (I was happy where I was in real life, and had decided to stop roaming?) . For some reason, I was also covered in a soft, downy, blonde fur in this dream.
One time when my daughter and I were climbing the Hill Where The Deer Sleep, in the John Day Valley, I asked her (she was four, at the time), "You sure you don't want me to carry you? I mean, this is a pretty steep hill..."
She said, "My feet will carry me wherever I need to go." And I thought, You're all right, kid.
The foot is the possibility of travel, or escape. It's freedom, and they root us to the ground, as well. If you damage (or lose) them, you're pretty well fucked.
The eye? Well, sight-duh. Vision, however oriented toward The Future, or maybe just your surroundings...But it's not even my eye, it's my eyebrow, so...
Freedom of expression? The crooked eyebrow, expressing skepticism? The waggling eyebrow suggesting a vaudeville charicature of attraction? The vestigial hair no one is really able to explain on humans, since we don't really need it for warmth anymore?
I dunno. You got me.



Blogger Jacq said...

It makes me feel aged when my old childhood injuries act like a mini weatherman. When my knees and ankles start to ache, AH LOOK! It feels like rain! Depressing...

5:48 AM  
Blogger rich bachelor said...

Worse yet: my bum knee has been acting up lately. Strangely, I DON'T HAVE A BUM KNEE, historically speaking. I think I dinged it up somehow last week, and was in the middle of something, too busy to notice.

11:44 AM  
Blogger Jacq said...

I can top that. I'm so damn clumsy in my ADULT years that I've fallen down steps and over my own two feet within the last YEAR. When I fell down my steps, I kind of SLID down, so my ass crack/spine hit against the corner of the step and still hurts like hell. And I did that months ago. I have big feet, too, so I often trip over them. hee hee

1:02 PM  
Blogger Ju-ju bees said...

wow didn't know i was so profound as a youngin...

8:28 PM  
Blogger rich bachelor said...

You said a lot of things like that, back in your day.

11:33 PM  
Blogger rich bachelor said...

And of course, what you said that day remains true, and you're still all right, kid.
But do you remember Thlith and Glichh?

4:34 PM  
Blogger Ju-ju bees said...

thlith and glichh... sadly i can't say that i do rememeber. if only i could

10:06 PM  

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