Monday, March 20, 2006

Chapter 30 - Begging for Salt

Just thought I'd touch upon the title of this blog. Here is an excerpt of a novel in progress that thematically parallels our exploits:

...They got some burgers from the McDonalds dollar menu and drove back to the rest stop just north of Half Moon Bay, where they sat in the dark van for awhile, winding down. She was angry and afraid. She wanted answers. How could they do what they were doing and make money? The soap was a sinking ship. They were sliding down a sink hole. Mike visualized a large olden sailboat sliding down into an anuslike mudhole. Why was he so lazy? Mike felt his eyes drooping. Sleep always came hard on him when things became scary. It had always been his place to go where everything was allright and he struggled to hold it at bay. She wanted answers. Concrete ideas on what they could do to make money.

Mike churned butter in his imagination. With lidded eyes and empty buttermilk mind he fixed on the rearview mirror. Earlier she had mentioned a rock salt idea, wherein they would sell colored rock salt imbued with scent, it would give off the scent when it was heated. The idea suddenly came to him of car air fresheners to add with it. They were both excited. It would be easy to do, to wrap the crystals in muslin bundles. "Zen crystals," he offered and they both liked that. He imagined how the light might play off the little bundles and the nice scent they would give off. They could also make satchets and bigger bundles. It was going to work. Low overhead and a simple execution.
"We'll have them begging for salt," said J and they turned towards each other with laughter and kisses.
They slept soundly that night.
(end of excerpt)

Things going fairly well but still waiting for a check from one of our customers. Hopefully today it will arrive. We've been living on the charity food bags we got from a local church group. Good stuff like peanut butter and jelly, spaghetti and beans, spam...when I pulled this out of the bag at home I told J how the Indians in NWT, Canada called it "Click".

"Why'd they call it that?"
"I'm not sure. I never asked but assume it has to do with the sound it makes when you open it."
"Why would they eat that discusting stuff?"
"It's easy to take with you on a hunting trip, full of protein and it cuts into sandwiches easily..."
She shuddered and went back to reading Foer, "Everything's Illuminated" while I fried some up and ate it on bread with thick hunks of fried onion. Wasn't too unedible but I had to give most of it to Lucky who wolfed it up in chomp slobbering bites while Hank looked on at the unjust act, with a look bordering on outrage. I wanted to give him some but the merest hint of pork makes him sick.

I must mention that J is a remarkable cook and she took the bottled charity spaghetti sauce last night and whipped it into a bolognese of luscious dimensions with carrots, garlic, celery and turkey sausage. My god it was good and we each had two bowls of it in the romantic semi-darkness, with hot tea...

It has been very cool lately, esp. at night but we are sleeping very well under the down comforter, legs and arms entwined and with Bo and Ollie, J's two enormous stuffed animals.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Where did you find it? Interesting read film editing classes

3:56 PM  

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