The lady on the bus informed us that something was going on with Pluto and secrets now are being revealed. This angered one of the woman with whom she was in accord, just moments earlier, in a jolly rabble rousing exchange about the travesties of modern corporations. The middle section of the bus, all strangers, had struck up a group discussion about Haliburton and Enron when the Pluto comment was made.
“So you’re saying that Kenneth Lay and Jeffrey Skilling did all of that stuff because Pluto told them to?” Her transformation from warm to frigid was easy and immediate. “You’re saying that a rock has feelings?”
“I’m sorry, a rock?”
“Yes! Pluto is a rock! It’s a rock and it doesn’t make people do things! People are in control of their destinies. Not rocks!” Ms Volatile looked away, shaking her head as if she just had seen someone lick a dumpster.
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that Pluto made them do it--certainly not--we’re in control of our lives. We all do what we want to. I just meant that the stars are aligned in such a way that those bad guys aren’t getting away with it this time because Pluto won’t let them.”
“That is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. That’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard.”
The other conversationalists looked away partly with pity for Ms Pluto and also with fear for Ms Volatile’s unanticipated wrath. Ms Pluto was visibly flustered, but she maintained her original stance.
“Well, we are made of the earth and the earth is made of the stars. The sun and the moon control the tides. And we are made up of nearly 80% water, so of course we’re all connected in some way. But you don’t believe in astrology, so...”
“You’re right. I don’t believe that stuff. I make my own choices.”
After a long awkward silence, Ms Volatile gathered her stuff and moved to a seat at the front where she wouldn’t be bothered. Ms Pluto immediately turned her attention to the window. The streets of Chicago were flocked with sun fed people happily shopping, cycling and otherwise enjoying the beautiful day.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Pluto
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3 comments:
Greetings, dear one.
Your oldest friend (as in longevity, not age) hails from the hideaway in which she is anxiously perusing the text of Hamlet for hidden meanings from Pluto the Dog.
Oh, wait. Pluto the planet, isn't it? Curses.
Anyway, I haven't heard much from you, and nothing gets you searching the internet for crap you don't need to read (not that your blog is crap) like a due date and a tough assignment. Goings are good, I presume?
Mac as in M.A.C., as in my buddy from Nantucket? Herro, if so!!!
Is that Nantucket as in Court? If so, I am sort of that person -- though I "officially" was from Huntington. Even though I was right across the freakin' street.
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