"Okay. I'm going to have to leave you with a laugh. A few years ago I ran across the funniest, smartest human being I have or ever will meet -- a writer who went by the moniker "Skonk" on a writers' discussion board. Never met the guy but I lived for his posts. Without fail, he could make me laugh right out loud in an empty room.
Anyway, that comment you made about the goldfish? Way back around the year 2000, I had run across this list of factoids, one of which was the one about goldfish only having three-second memories.
Not 10 minutes after I'd posted the list, Skonk replied with the following: (please excuse formatting errors)
~~ begin quote ~~Due to this list, I got a myself a brand-new perspective on the lives of my pets. I used to have a big fat goldfish named Slappy McPoop who died recently. Raised him from a pup, and even though he had a severe bipolar disorder, he was a GOOD fish. One of the best I ever had.
Stuffing that bloated bastard down the garbage disposal was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Generally speaking, I give my dead fish the standard Big Flush sendoff, but Slappy was just too big to fit down the hole in the shitter.
Couldn't even make the bastard go down by poking him with the toilet brush. And since it seemed disrespectful to just toss him in the garbage like a bag of uneaten leftovers (after all, he was a PET of mine), I decided to commit his mortal remains to the gnashing blades of my trusty In-Sink-Er-Ator. It was as close as I could come to a burial at sea. And wherever Slappy McPoop is right now, I'm sure he appreciates the gesture.
Problem is, I didn't know he'd croaked for a day or so, and by the time I scooped him outa the tank the other guys had already been eating on him a little.
So I figure they prolly got most of the tasty parts, and anything I tossed in the pot would be the nasty stuff even stupid fish wouldn't touch. Same reason I didn't mount him on a plaque and hang it in the den. He was looking pretty bad by the time I got to him.
But I still felt sorry for the OTHER fish. Like, they had to stay in the tank with their dead friend A LONG TIME before I scooped him out, and it must have been pretty traumatic for them. But if goldfish can only remember stuff for three seconds, it means they're probably over it by now.
The surviving fish probably HAVE gotten over the trauma by now, but how about the five or six hours they had to spend swimming around with one of their brethren who'd gone belly up? I mean, think of the whole thing from the viewpoint of a goldfish in an enclosed tank with a three-second memory:
Hey, this is cool. The tank is full, the water is clean, and what's this? Looks like some gravel down here. Wonder what's in it? Hey, check it out. That looks like food. Maybe I'll give it a taste and see
if it's good. Hmmm, not bad, kinda tastes like.... hey what's that over there?
HOLY SHIT IT'S A DEAD GUY! HEY, SOMEBODY GET OVER HERE AND GET THIS GUY OUT OF HERE, WILLYA? JESUS CHRIST, THIS IS AN AQUARIUM, NOT A....
...clue as to what that thing in the corner is.
Hey, check it out! A little deep-sea diver with bubbles coming out of him. Pretty cute. I wonder if he's food? Guess I could taste him, if I can get around this... THIS DEAD GUY! HOLY SHIT, THERE'S A DEAD GUY IN HERE! HEY, YOU WITH THE NET! WHEN YOU GET A MINUTE, YOU WANNA SEE IF YOU CAN HAUL THIS ROTTING CORPSE OUT OF MY LIVING SPACE?
I MEAN, WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF ONE OF YOUR BUDDIES DIED IN YOUR LA-Z-BOY, JUST LEAVE THE FUCKER SITTING THERE? HAVE A HEART, YOU IGNORANT BASTARD! WE GOTTA....
...look around at the bottom of the tank here, see if we can find something to eat. Hey, that looks like food over there. Or maybe it's poop. But I guess I can taste it and find out. If I can get around this stupid bubbling deep-sea diver. I wonder what people are thinking when they buy ridiculous toys like that? Maybe they think we get bored swimming around all day with nothing to look at but gravel and...
*A DEAD GUY! HOLY SHIT, THERE'S A FUCKING DEAD GUY IN HERE! AND I ALMOST TOUCHED HIM! CHRIST, IT MAKES ME WANT TO TAKE A SHOWER OR WASH MY HANDS OR SOMETHING, BUT I JUST REALIZED I'M A FISH IN A TANK FULL OF WATER AND SOMEDAY THAT COULD BE ME FLOATING AROUND LIKE A BAG OF GARBAGE!
OH WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO SEE SOMETHING LIKE THAT JUST WHEN I'M STARTING TO FEEL GOOD ABOUT MYSELF? IS LIFE REALLY THAT FLEETING AND MEANINGLESS, OR ARE WE ALL INTEGRAL PARTS OF THE RICH TAPESTRY OF LIFE THAT CYCLES ENDLESSLY THROUGH TIME, WITH EACH GENERATION MAKING IT'S OWN CONTRIBUTION TO...
...poop? That sure LOOKS like a piece a poop down there, but it might be food. I suppose I could taste it and find out...
But I really DID stop and wonder how many times the other fish were freshly traumatized, if they kept forgetting the original trauma every three seconds? Fifty times? A hundred? Spooky.
On the other hand, I remind myself that the surviving guys had also started eating on Slappy by the time I hauled him out of there, and if the three-second rule DOES apply, it means that by now they've forgotten about fact that they're cannibals. So I guess it balances out. ~~ end quote
Skonk died of lung cancer about three years ago. I cried for days. Heck to see how upset I was? You'd think I really knew him or something. I didn't. But I miss him and his hilarity more than I can say."
And Elodie's next post was:
"I wrote this after Skonk died. Skonk also used the pen name John Pelligrino: Fin
Slappy McPoop peered through the tank at the door.
"It'll open any minute now. You'll see," he said. He watched the doorknob, willing it to turn with his mind, believing that any minute now it would, indeed, turn.
"You've been saying that for a long time, now, sucker," said Dood. He should've been here ages ago. I'm telling you, He's not coming. He's forgotten us."
"Quit calling me that," said Slappy. I'm a goldfish, not a suckerfish."
"For a goldfish, you're the blackest, fattest bastard I've ever seen," said Dood. Dood always seemed to attack whenever he was hungry.
"Besides," said Slappy, "He'll be here. Pelligrino always comes. You've just got to have faith."
"So where is He? Doesn't He know we're waiting? Doesn't He know we're hungry?"
"Now, see? That's your problem right there," said Slappy. "Oh, ye of little faith. Of course He knows! Pelligrino knows. He knows everything! Sees everything! Provides everything. Pelligrino is Father of Waters. He is everywhere. And if He's not here yet, it's because He sees your doubt."
The filter hummed its humming noise and little bubbles rose from the treasure chest in the bottom of the tank.
"Dood, He's testing you. And the fact that He isn't here yet is because you don't believe."
Slappy swam in little circles along the surface of the water with a smug expression on his big bulging eyes. "Just look at yourself, Dood. Look around you. You've got this big cushy tank with a Visi-Therm deluxe heater, Whisper Clean Power Filter, Perfecto full aquarium hood with fluorescent light, fuscia-colored gravel with SeaChem substrates, all this lovely plastic seaweed and your own personal grotto to hide out in when you're feeling blue. We've even got that little treasure chest with the scuba diver you like so much."
He continued. "You think all this makes you something special? You with your longer-than-three-second memory. You with your keen fish's intellect, your bubbly personality. It's not what you've got that makes you special, Dood," said Slappy. "Faith in Pelligrino. It's faith that separates us from the school. It's faith that sets us apart from the sea monkeys. It's..."
"But I'm hungry," whined Dood. "I want something to eat. And my left fin is driving me crazy. It itches like a sonofabitch. Hey. Take a look. Do you see anything?"
Slappy eyed Dood's fin. "Ick!"
"Hey, man. No reason to poke fun. This is serious."
"No, you bubblehead. That's what you've got. Ick. It's a condition."
"A condition?" Dood's heart skipped a beat. "You mean like a disease?"
"Yeah. Remember when Kerplunk went belly up in the tank that time? Pelligrino got the net and Kerplunk went in seine?"
"Yeah. I do remember that."
"It was ick. Remember how his fins got all spotted?"
"Oh, God," said Dood. He began to hyperventilate, his gills opening and closing much too fast.
"You've got spots, just like Kerplunk," he said. "Pelligrino took him and put him in the throne to sit under Him. Someday we all go in seine. Sooner or later, you go. I go. And if you've been a good fish, Pelligrino takes you to the throne to sit underneath Him, too. If not? It's the In-Sinkerator. So if you know what's good for you, you'll stop with all this negativity. You are one sick guppy."
"Don't call me a guppy, you sucker."
"You don't see me with spots on MY fins. Think about THAT for awhile...Guppy."
"Sucker."
"Blowfish."
A fat, salty tear started down Slappy McPoop's face.
Dood sighed. "This isn't right, man. I'm sorry. Just because Pelligrino hasn't come yet is no reason to go on a feeding frenzy with your best friend. I mean, all we've got is each other. We should love each other. You know? Just because."
Slappy sniffed and smiled sadly.
"Each other and Pelligrino," Slappy added, smiling beatifically.
Dood peered through the glass darkly. It seemed as though the algae had been building up for awhile. He couldn't make out the door quite as well as before. He beat mightily on the glass. "Oh, why? Why?"
"Ours is not to ask the reason," said Slappy. It is not for us to understand His ways. Everything happens for a reason. If I were you, I'd get busy and pray."
Then turning his eyes doorward, Slappy bubbled forth: "Oh, mighty Pelligrino, harbinger of all good things, scraper of algae, bringer of brine, forgive us, miserable servants of the deep. Bathe us in forgiveness and wash us of our sins that we may better serve You in Your Infinite Wisdom and Mercy. Amen."
Dood just watched. Then turning, he swam into the grotto where he could be alone and try to forget the hunger gnawing at his belly and the itching in his armpit.
Meanwhile Slappy swam back and forth, back and forth in the tank looking at the door. Watching. Waiting. Swimming.
"Pelligrino? Where are you, man? Skonk?"
~~ Fin Fin"
Hope you enjoy that as much as I did! LMAO
PEACE!
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2 comments:
Roxanne, glad you like the stories. I must tell you, though, that although I did write the second story, I stole the idea for it from another writer. I heard a story on This American Life on NPR (great program, btw) about two hamsters whose owner hasn't come home in awhile. Anyway, the book was called Beware of God by Shalom Auslander. He's a Jewish-born atheist, and his stories are brilliant. I'd like to take full credit for my fish story, but it just wouldn't be honest not to mention the other story.
And, in his story, the owner does eventually come home. Sadly, in mine he doesn't.
Skonk's story, however, is 100-percent original, as was Skonk.
Even though your story was inspired by something another person wrote, it is still YOURS. Never again undermine your talent like that or I might have to smack you!
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