Monday, September 04, 2006
Old Bev: Genie Wish Proposal
1. Brief Narrative on the Purpose and History of Wisher and Wish
Whether it is possible to isolate one’s essence even from one’s own species will, I suppose, determine the approval of this proposal. More often than I’d like to admit I’ve rested my forehead on a cool spot of my desk, and with the appearance of having nodded off or keeled over, daydreamed at length of being bird or beast, often a tree, sometimes a fish, never a bug. One reason I’ve deemed this fantasy fantastical, along with some practical concerns, is that I feel my bones, my skin, my very lashes and the bloody hangnail on my thumb and the burp I belched at dinner to have as much to do with who I am as the dream I had last night, or day, and the way I treat my sister. I love bodies, drown in them, watch them, hear them shriek and scrape. How could I be a bee, and still be me; they use their legs so differently. But having just learned of your existence, after having been up until this point highly skeptical of Genies, I’m inclined to risk rejection upon the slim chance that the premise of my petty desire should ring true. So here goes: I’d like to have dinner with my cats.
Dinner not as per usual – me with my sad soup bowl balanced on my knees, learning via TLC how to decorate Stacy from Wisconsin’s dorm room, they crouched over sweet pea and venison diet, served up on a paper plate. No, this is a grand affair, several courses, pre-dinner drinks, dessert and nightcap, excellent music and cloth napkins. And it’s not just the two cats living in my apartment currently, it’s several I have known and know. And Genie, this is where you come in – they’re people, not cats, and they’re the cats as they would be as people.
I’m supposed to convey a compelling purpose, an argument as to why you should grant this wish, and I’m positive that requirement exists to deter wishes such as mine. Why not wish on a grander scale, give peace a chance or the nation health care or even myself a better landlord? It strikes me though that (and please do take this in the best way possible) a Genie may not always carry the same spirit as the wisher. I figure that I could probably do more wide scale damage than good even with the greatest intention, so here I’ll stay personal and girly, contained within 6 hours, with only the added stipulation that I be allowed to photograph the event, and the living cats restored to their original form once dinner’s done.
2. Key Players and Their Affiliates
Kitty, for starters, has got to be there, and in fact I’d like her to be hostess. The dinner’s at her apartment and I’m guessing that’s some floor-through sprawling apartment in San Francisco full of lovely odd junk furniture and beautiful broken appliances that haven’t worked for years. We call her the Elizabeth Taylor of Cats, she really is beautiful, and has the most shocking little fierce voice which she uses only to swear when in discomfort or dismay. Her suitors, Copper and Monkeyface, won’t be formal guests but will probably call a few times during dinner to make sure they can’t help with anything. Copper stares in the windows at Kitty all day long and once broke into the house and shat under the bed and somehow wormed out of his collar and left it there. Monkeyface just stares with sexy force, nose to the window. Yes, Kitty should host, she’ll swan around calmly and make one on one chat with each guest tenderly, remembering odd anecdotes, but stay out of the larger conversation.
Andy (“Pope”) and Cougar (“Jim”) are the next guests, no-brainers, they’re the ones in my house right now. Andy, god, now he’s a conversation piece and will be quite the party guest. He’s got a remarkably large head and is a bit overweight, coat black all over and a tail with a strangely wide base, so that he looks a bit like an armadillo. When S. picked him out at the in-store shelter at Petco, he looked me straight in the eye and knocked over his food dish. Perhaps he’ll spill the wine, and make some excellent jokes unwittingly, and show up with a bad shave and a sloppy kiss for me. Cougar is lithe and gray, fluid in the shoulders and neck like a dancer. He’s got a few concerns which I’m eager to hear aired; he stares with such a worried gaze. We should make sure there’s plenty of cheese on hand because he loves it.
Then Midnight, she’s a wild-card. I met her and fed her when I was a child; left out bowls of milk in the yard. No collar on her. I wanted to keep her bad.
I neglected to mention pertinent recent events in the prior section, thinking you might overlook the omission, but realize now I’ve got to appeal to your sensitive side should I have a chance of gazing into my dear sweet Morris’s eyes again. He’ll probably show up early to the party, perfectly carve the meat, then disappear until everyone else arrives. Wildly handsome and also scruffy, dirty teeth and rips in his suit. Fiddle will be happy to see him again; Morris practically raised him. Fiddle’s clumsy, needy, separated from his mother too soon. He’ll make a bad pass at Kitty without realizing what he’s done, dance a little too close.
And finally Snuttie, to even out the men and women. She’s a little crackers and getting on in age, and as a cat has to have her face pushed down into food to know it’s there and pisses on anything on the ground. I’ll be glad to see her, no matter the production.
3. Statement reflecting your wish's greatest weakness or weaknesses, both programmatically and structurally.
Would they know themselves to have been cats? What would they perceive their relationship to me to be? Could I ask them questions about their feline experience? Would they have human histories, families, hopes? How much do they know about current events and what movies are playing? Do their human bodies reflect some physical characteristics they also carried as cats? Would you identify the correct cats? Who will cook dinner and clean up?
But the biggest weakness I stated up top, Genie (points for being forthright?). Could they translate?
My contact information is attached and most every weeknight I could attend the dinner (7:30 would be perfect). Please do let me know the date and time as soon as possible.
Posted by Jane Renaud at 12:07 AM | Permalink
TrackBack URL for this entry: http://www.typepad.com/services/trackback/6a00d8341c562c53ef00d834af015553ef
Listed below are links to weblogs that reference Old Bev: Genie Wish Proposal: