A movie montage moment
Where did October go? It was here a second ago. Did anyone check behind the couch?
Wasn’t it just Labor Day? I went from swimsuit to sweater in the blink of an eye.
Suddenly, my life has become a movie montage. I’m chopping vegetables. I’m leaving a movie, picking popcorn kernels from my teeth. I’m laughing in the rain, running to my car. All the montage moments without the John Williams soundtrack.
This month was like a timelapse film of a flower from science class. You know the one where the bud sprouts up, buds, becomes a tulip, gets pollinated, and dies in thirty seconds? That’s how fast October came and went.
I was cursing the heavens when the Halloween decorations went on sale five minutes after the fireworks finale on the Fourth of July, but now — I’m starting to see the reasoning.
On Wednesday, I’ll squash my skeletons and wicked witches into the bin and put out the cornucopias and cartoon turkeys.
Side note: If you turn your Jack O’ Lanterns around, smiley face to the wall, you can call them decorative harvest pumpkins.
But I digress, like I do. I was looking forward to the fall, but it seems it’s already in the rearview mirror. In the portentous words of Ned Stark, “Winter is coming!” Yeah. Keep your head on. We’ll get there, Ned.
Do I still have to announce a “spoiler alert” for a TV show from 2011?
To the five people who didn’t watch “Game of Thrones,” Ned Stark’s head ends up in a straw basket, the Bean shucked from the stalk.
That, by the way, is a second digression from the subject – issued henceforth to the loyal readers who quickly pointed out that I didn’t do my signature catchphrase in my last column. Seriously. There was hate mail.
P.S. I’m not your puppet.
It’s not for me to understand why or how the seasons started to blend like a Mocha Frappuccino. The seasons aren’t just mixing. They’re avocadoes in a Magic Bullet — making guacamole as easy as one, two, threeeeeeeeee.
Once on a train from Madrid to Seville (Spain, for the geographically challenged), I watched the landscape rush past, cities, farms, and fields. When the locomotive slowed down to our first stop, I noticed telephone poles right beside the tracks. The poles stood alongside the track the entire way, but I only saw them when the train ground to a halt. The days of the week have become telephone poles along the train tracks, speeding by so fast you can’t even see them.
There is a common aphorism, “It’s all downhill from here.” It seems to mean that the older you get, the faster time whips past you. Downhill? It’s a roller coaster, and I ticked, ticked, ticked up
the hill for the first thirty years of my life, and now I’m speeding down the back end. The best we can do is hold on for dear life and enjoy the ride.