FART AROUND LIKE KURT VONNEGUT, IT’S GOOD FOR YOU

Fart around like you mean it:

Kurt Vonnegut tells his wife he’s going out to buy an envelope:

“Oh, she says, well, you’re not a poor man.

“You know, why don’t you go online and buy a hundred envelopes and put them in the closet?“

And so I pretend not to hear her.

And go out to get an envelope because I’m going to have a hell of a good time in the process of buying one envelope.

I thought of the Vonnegut fart around when I took my dog to Cook Park.

Would there be a hell of a good time in the near future?

I fart around with my dog on walks and we try to notice everything.

Squirrels, birds, other dogs.

Some dog days are better than others, but none beats today.

When is the last time you met someone of the opposite sex for the first time and walked together in the woods?

Never is the right answer.

Unless you have a dog and they have a dog and they’re new to the park with time to burn while their family paddles the Tualatin River in a canoe.

We walked and walked and kept up a stream of conversation. She’d lived in Brooklyn. Park Slope. I lived in Sunset Park.

She was a real New Yorker and still we walked all the way to the pedestrian bridge and back to the dock where her husband and kid pulled up.

Maybe forty-five minutes.

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The last thing I said:

“It’s funny that no one ever hears about two strangers meeting in a park and walking through the woods to pass the time together, then go their own ways. It’s always the bad things that get spread, not something nice like our walk. I guess we’re too boring for BREAKING NEWS, but it’s been a joy just the same.”

She turned to the dock while I went straight on the woods trail.

That’s all there was to it and it felt wonderful to be alive with good company.

Two Guys On A Bench

Kurt Vonnegut:

I meet a lot of people. And see some great looking babes. And a fire engine goes by. And I give them the thumbs up.

And I’ll ask a woman what kind of dog that is. And, and I don’t know. The moral of the story is — we’re here on Earth to fart around.

During our dog walk I pointed out a lady sitting alone on a bench in the shaded woods and how that gave me a sense of wonder.

Like people walking around without a dog makes me suspicious, older ladies sitting alone in a shaded forest reminds me of a Grimm’s Fairy Tale.

On the trail back to my car I passed two guys sitting on a bench.

No dogs with them, but my dog broke the ice.

“Cute dog, what kind of dog, how old,” and we were off.

The moment could have been over with a few short answers, but the two of them seemed engaging.

Turns out one of them is expecting a baby with their partner. The other guy didn’t look pregnant, so it wasn’t him.

Things took a downward spin when the expecting dad told about his worries, about money, his house, the future.

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I said, “The first thing you need to do is rent a mini-storage because everyone you’ve ever known is going to start sending gifts.

“It’ll be new and used, big and small, and all sent with love and care. And you can’t tell them to stop because down the road they’ll want to send money for college.

“Your worries and concerns come from a long tradition of new dads, or dads-to-be; your partner’s feelings come from the same place.

“Here’s what you do: Say these exact words, “I will be the best father to our child that any child has ever had and I’ll start by making this commitment to you. Every decision I’ll make the rest of my life will include you and our baby. If that’s not enough, I’ll be a father-figure to the whole world.

“If you say this to your partner they will be ready for whatever is coming your way. It’ll make you a better person, her a better mom, and the two of you a better couple.”

Then we shook hands and high-fived on down the trail the opposite way from each other.

J.P. and Paul one direction, dog and I the other.

Two Ladies On A Bench

Kurt Vonnegut:

And, of course, the computers will do us out of that. And what the computer people don’t realize, or they don’t care, is we’re dancing animals.

You know, we love to move around. And it’s like we’re not supposed to dance at all anymore.

Let’s all get up and move around a bit right now… or at least dance.

Up past the baseball fields where PeeWee kids did fielding and throwing and hitting drills, the dog and I came up on two women, one younger, one older, sitting on a bench with their dog at their feet.

So far on my fart around walk I was two for two. Would the third time break my streak?

I said hello, mentioned the beautiful day, how wonderful it felt to be in the park.

The younger woman said she recognized me, that I looked familiar, but she couldn’t place me.

That’s always fun, so I introduced myself with, “My name is George Clooney.”

“You’re not George Clooney.”

“Brad Pitt?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then my dog isn’t Rin Tin Tin?”

The Kurt Vonnegut Fart Around Moment

The lady in the woods was a mom and wife; the two guys on the trail were dads and dads to be.

The two ladies on the bench? One was a caregiver, the other a widowed wife and mother.

My fart around in the park uncovered the circle of life.

You don’t get that on the couch, online, or in the yard.

There’s a big world out there chugging along, but it’s the smaller world of caring for each other that fuels it.

Making time for strangers who share the same worries and concerns of a lifetime is the best fart around time.

I think old Kurt would approve of this message.