by Gae Rusk
Aunty Logy worships at the Church of Disney.
Yes, says Aunty’s tutu, little keiki Logy was among the first toddlers to enter the Land of Disney. This crucial event in Aunty Logy’s life included an encounter with the Matterhorn, which became the most important structure in Aunty’s world, looming far taller than Wai’aleale or the Na Pali seacliffs. Aunty has studied that spire many times since 1955 and has entered its hollowed ground as often as allowed.
On that very first visit, keiki Logy took Disney’s credo to heart and still sincerely practices what Disney preaches. Such as, sugar makes life more better. Such as, stay looking at the shiny side of life. These maxims work well for Aunty.
As an adult, Aunty has unashamedly wept in the presence of Mickey. Aunty has chased the Dwarfs across the Park to get photos with them, later on to get photos of them with Aunty’s own keikis. And though Aunty Logy has knocked over others in pursuit of photos of big hair - especially at Kapa’a High School graduation – Aunty has never flattened a child of Disney.
This reverence glows within Aunty’s impatient nature like lit crystals in Mickey’s grotto. Disney’s power to shift a flawed Aunty to another better Aunty has kept Aunty Logy standing in line for hours, in grueling and claustrophobic conditions, just to go on a one minute ride, and then to find another line to stand in. Aunty will do that nowhere else, for no reason and no one.
Aunty Logy is now middle-aged and still enchanted with Disney films. Aunty, still emotionally involved with Haley Mills, now adores Lilo, who is a future graduate of Kapa’a High School. Aunty Logy grew up with Lilo’s Aunty Lehualani, another proud and reverent Mouska-tutu with extra large hair.
In middle-age, Aunty Logy still sings along to countless Disney hymns. Aunty ariates that clever homage to handsome, misguided Gaston, whose moral flaws delightfully rhyme, and Aunty resonates Ariel’s touching lament that everything is not enough for one wahine. Aunty sings these words. Aunty is these songs.
At some point in the many decades since 1955, Aunty Logy became a Disney Warrior battling on the side of Walt the Good. Aunty is now a Dwarf-wannabe, all seven of them, marching to and fro in the name of Disney and a career in mining. It’s the truest truth with a catchy beat.
And when Aunty Logy leaves Kauai and makes a pilgrimage to one of the lands of Disney, Aunty is the friend of all strangers. Aunty is never disliked. Aunty is always worthy.
Disney is not just Aunty Logy’s church, Disney is Aunty’s best friend. This knowledge gives Aunty comfort. This information makes Aunty Logy safe from Aunty’s own dark side. This belief keeps Aunty in line for the Adult Forest ride.
Please note: Antilogy is an inconsistency or contradiction in terms or ideas, causing controversy and discussion.
Gae Rusk copyright 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
River Stone
(Inspired by: Burlap Sack by Jane Hirshfield)
by Pam Woolway
A woman experiences a loss
the way a river stone is colored grey or beige
Someone says, “Pick up the stone,”
so we touch its surface,
brighter if left in the water.
To wish for the colors to have a meaning is a mistake.
To wish for loss to have meaning is a mistake.
Meaning wears loss like a tree wears leaves,
dropping slowly beneath branches, one at a time.
The tree is not its bark or branches or leaves.
The meaning is not the shade nor sky nor grass.
What might happen if we skip the stone across the surface of a lake,
to let the round pebble dance with its own reflection?
What if we rest beneath the tree in deep shade,
leaves twirling around us in spirals like kamikaze kites?
by Pam Woolway
A woman experiences a loss
the way a river stone is colored grey or beige
Someone says, “Pick up the stone,”
so we touch its surface,
brighter if left in the water.
To wish for the colors to have a meaning is a mistake.
To wish for loss to have meaning is a mistake.
Meaning wears loss like a tree wears leaves,
dropping slowly beneath branches, one at a time.
The tree is not its bark or branches or leaves.
The meaning is not the shade nor sky nor grass.
What might happen if we skip the stone across the surface of a lake,
to let the round pebble dance with its own reflection?
What if we rest beneath the tree in deep shade,
leaves twirling around us in spirals like kamikaze kites?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)