Nathan Tyree: Ducking Soup
Today I gave up something very important to me. I've had this trick. Been using it since I was a kid. Whenever I'm down I watch Duck Soup. It doesn't matter how low I am, Those Marx boys make me feel whole, feel well for ninety minutes and I get lost. No matter what, singing along to Groucho insisting that if you think they country's bad off now just wait 'til I get through with it or watching Margaret Dumont try to find sanity within the manic antics makes me giggle.
The day After my mom died I almost watched it. Had the disk in hand when I realized something horrible. If I pull the old trick, then for the rest of my life I will associate Duck Soup with my mother's death. It's like I can't hear the song "Laid" by James without reliving the bad breakup I was going through when I first heard it. So, I stepped back. No Marx madness this time. But.
You tell yourself the convenient lie until you believe it. I've been repeating this like a mantra, a broken mandala , a manifesto. She was killed instantly, or at least she was unconscious and shock robbed her of any ability to feel, to know what was happening to her as she died. The bitch of it is that I know all the people. Because I was a cop, I know the cops, the firemen, the EMTs and they have to share. Idiots, really. They think they are being helpful.
She was awake, aware and talking. She was kind to them; told one of the firemen as he tried to extricate her from the wreck that he was doing a good job. She was confused and thought that my father was with her and was worried, asked if he was okay. She lost consciousness as they pulled her from the heap and died in the ambulance.
So today I watched Duck soup. Didn't crack so much as a smile. I used to love it. I know with certainty that I will never watch Duck Soup again.
Today I gave up something very important to me. I've had this trick. Been using it since I was a kid. Whenever I'm down I watch Duck Soup. It doesn't matter how low I am, Those Marx boys make me feel whole, feel well for ninety minutes and I get lost. No matter what, singing along to Groucho insisting that if you think they country's bad off now just wait 'til I get through with it or watching Margaret Dumont try to find sanity within the manic antics makes me giggle.
The day After my mom died I almost watched it. Had the disk in hand when I realized something horrible. If I pull the old trick, then for the rest of my life I will associate Duck Soup with my mother's death. It's like I can't hear the song "Laid" by James without reliving the bad breakup I was going through when I first heard it. So, I stepped back. No Marx madness this time. But.
You tell yourself the convenient lie until you believe it. I've been repeating this like a mantra, a broken mandala , a manifesto. She was killed instantly, or at least she was unconscious and shock robbed her of any ability to feel, to know what was happening to her as she died. The bitch of it is that I know all the people. Because I was a cop, I know the cops, the firemen, the EMTs and they have to share. Idiots, really. They think they are being helpful.
She was awake, aware and talking. She was kind to them; told one of the firemen as he tried to extricate her from the wreck that he was doing a good job. She was confused and thought that my father was with her and was worried, asked if he was okay. She lost consciousness as they pulled her from the heap and died in the ambulance.
So today I watched Duck soup. Didn't crack so much as a smile. I used to love it. I know with certainty that I will never watch Duck Soup again.
![[Valid RSS]](themes/mario-world/valid-rss.png "Validate my RSS feed")