Surprise!
I can be startled fairly easily - I have an extremely low tolerance for shock, and am always the first one to jump when the killer in the movie wakes back up for one last stab at the blood-soaked hero. These shocks resonate in my system, causing trauma and developing into stupid nightmares in which I scream out loud and wake up (lightly!) strangling my bedmate.
Despite all that, I am not easily surprised. Surprise, for me, comes when something highly unexpected - on an intellectual or emotional level, as opposed to on the level of one's emergency-response nervous system - comes to pass. I've read enough Foucault to believe that pretty much any action can have unexpected results, so it's rare that something deviates so wildly from my expectations that I sit up and take notice.
However, in an amusing turn of events, this weekend something did. Some of you may remember that many moons ago (in October 2006, I believe) I posted on this blog about the strange woman I met outside of a Safeway in Mountain View. She, a paranoid, scruffy, corndog eating woman was collecting signatures and financial contributions toward a bill she wished to take to the state legislature in order to make pet abandonment illegal.
I gave the woman 10 minutes of my time, a careful signature, and a $10 bill. I little expected anything to come of it, except that perhaps she would be able to buy more corn dogs. Or even fruit! Who knows? Months upon months went by and lo, I had forgotten all about this strange person, who made me contemplate our personal role in a democracy.
Then, I got a letter. It was from Senator Sheila Kuehl (D) of California, and it thanked me for my interest in the issue of pet abandonment. Although she could not currently take action on that point, wrote Senator Kuehl, there is a Bill currently in consideration to protect pets under current domestic abuse laws.
And you know, you could have knocked me over with a feather. Having looked at the greasy sheets of lined paper on which my mystery woman was collecting her signatures, I never expected the petition to reach any sincerely concerned participle of the government. Of course, for all I know, those modest proclamations were merely mailed in and glanced over, with no effect even as lasting as a horror flick like The Grudge (of all things) would have on my delicate mental state. But something beyond me and my dangerously enlivened interlocutor came of that gray Safeway excursion, and I'm glad.
Despite all that, I am not easily surprised. Surprise, for me, comes when something highly unexpected - on an intellectual or emotional level, as opposed to on the level of one's emergency-response nervous system - comes to pass. I've read enough Foucault to believe that pretty much any action can have unexpected results, so it's rare that something deviates so wildly from my expectations that I sit up and take notice.
However, in an amusing turn of events, this weekend something did. Some of you may remember that many moons ago (in October 2006, I believe) I posted on this blog about the strange woman I met outside of a Safeway in Mountain View. She, a paranoid, scruffy, corndog eating woman was collecting signatures and financial contributions toward a bill she wished to take to the state legislature in order to make pet abandonment illegal.
I gave the woman 10 minutes of my time, a careful signature, and a $10 bill. I little expected anything to come of it, except that perhaps she would be able to buy more corn dogs. Or even fruit! Who knows? Months upon months went by and lo, I had forgotten all about this strange person, who made me contemplate our personal role in a democracy.
Then, I got a letter. It was from Senator Sheila Kuehl (D) of California, and it thanked me for my interest in the issue of pet abandonment. Although she could not currently take action on that point, wrote Senator Kuehl, there is a Bill currently in consideration to protect pets under current domestic abuse laws.
And you know, you could have knocked me over with a feather. Having looked at the greasy sheets of lined paper on which my mystery woman was collecting her signatures, I never expected the petition to reach any sincerely concerned participle of the government. Of course, for all I know, those modest proclamations were merely mailed in and glanced over, with no effect even as lasting as a horror flick like The Grudge (of all things) would have on my delicate mental state. But something beyond me and my dangerously enlivened interlocutor came of that gray Safeway excursion, and I'm glad.
In oddly symbiotic news, this weekend I met the new dog that Dave's parents recently adopted, a teddy bear-looking entity named Maggie Munze.* Maggie was rescued from a puppy mill, and being around her was like no other dog-related experience of my life. She shared few characteristics with the dogs that I have known: no barking, no begging, no resting her head in your lap. And indeed, she had no idea how to play. Dave's mom said that she occasionally goes to her crate and picks up one of the toys they have bought for her, only to move it to a different part of the house and leave it again.
It was a strange experience. I think that Maggie Munze is suggestive of the effects that a lack of love can have on a creature: not only does she not understand how to show or receive affection, she does not fully seem to understand the purpose of it.
I think she'll get better though.
*Actually, her name was just Maggie when we arrived, but Dave had been pulling for 'Munze,' and so we just started calling her Munzie as soon as we walked in the door.
And finally, on a completely unrelated note: Matthea Harvey has a new book of poetry coming out soon, and I encourage everyone to check it out. She's strange beyond your wildest hopes.
Labels: corndogs, personal politics, pet abandonment, shock and awe, the butterfly effect
posted by Adrienne Celt at 9:38 AM
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