Saturday, July 03, 2010
Mississippi Magic Melons.
I just cut up a watermelon that is for a little BBQ in the yard.
I am very disappointed by this watermelon, and it makes me wish for a truck from when I was little that would magically appear every summer. It would park over by where the Taco Bell used to be. I heard once that it drove up from Mississippi or something like that, and it would bring the most fabulous watermelons you could ever hope to taste.
This watermelon here that I just cut up is barely a watermelon compared to those Mississippi melons.
My friend Justin, his Dad would always pick out good watermelons.
I don't know if he always went to that magic melon truck or if he was just one of those blessed few that could smell perfection.
If he could smell a good watermelon, then my gift was the ability to smell where someone had hidden their delicious watermelon.
Oh how selfish I was! It never occurred to me at the time, but it was entirely possible that Mr. Nichols wasn't buying those watermelons for me to hunt down in the basement.
When I feel especially guilty about these memories, I just tell myself that in fact those watermelons WERE for me, and that he had hidden the especially good ones somewhere I would never think to look.
The nearby university perhaps?
Man, when I think about it like that, it makes HIM seem like the jerk for not sharing!
I thought we were kindred spirits!
So anyways, maybe this is watermelon karma, this sad excuse for a watermelon staring at me from the table.
This is what I get for all those times of just enjoying the fruits of someone else's labor.
Instead I should have asked him to teach me the way, teach me the tricks to his secrets.
Because now I am worse off for sure.
This is no way to live what I am doing right here.