A Case for the Muse
Making a Case for the Muse Well, it’s a silly thing to have to explain, making a case for the Muse, because anybody who’s navigating an insurance claim for a fallen tree or received a speeding ticket because the Rolling Stones came on and you just couldn’t help but dance and you pressed so hard on the pedal. I just can’t get no, no, no, no... satisfaction. I mean anyone who forgot to renew their driver’s license and got turned away at the airport understands the need for amusement! Come on, just look at the text thread. You are perusing through right now. Almost every other text is asking you for something. How about the people who got a hold of your phone number and won’t stop inviting you to apply for that job or apply for a loan that you already qualified for or better yet tell you that your mother lost her phone and she’s trying to reach you. And she died three years ago. Rest her soul. Can you see how much the muse is needed? Can you see? If we don’t start laughing more...and soon This whole thing will try to convince us that this is reality. Imagine that! And still you wonder, what if it is Mother, reaching from the other side? You light a candle for her just in case There is definitely a need for the Muse when suddenly you have more doctor’s appointments than long lunch dates with girlfriends who call you darlink’ and batt their eyelashes at you, like Marlena Dietrich. It’s just rough these days. When you finally got into a routine of happy hour and found a beverage that tastes just right and makes you chill out immediately and then your doctor tells you it’s going to turn to sugar and you just can’t have sugar anymore. WTF is going on here, people! And then there’s all the paperwork and the whispers of divorce and diagnosis all around you and the password hell? Don’t get me started. Right now, there’s more than one friend who’s having delusions and the dementia articles won’t stop showing themselves. You can’t help but click on that one tip that will keep you from forgetting your dog’s name. Do I need to convince you there’s a need for the Muse, for goodness sakes? How about this? The reality that a woman can grow a mustache in her 50s? Uh huh. Overnight! And suddenly there’s more hair on your inner thighs. Ew. And you’re just so grateful if you happen to have a lover who appreciates you getting more furry because there’s more fur coming, you know? The hair in your eyebrows migrated to your chin, and that is just no good! Then there’s that innocuous mole that you like to call a beauty mark that has one black hair and one white hair growing out of it and they seem to appear overnight and you don’t have white hair or black hair. I mean, what the actual flying F! If you keep them there for amusement, they will eventually curl at your chin! Sometimes I wish I could talk to God and ask Them about certain things. Do you have a list like this? God, do you have a moment? Please. Couldn’t you have made it so that we don’t have violence built into us as a possibility and we could still have free will? Couldn’t you have made the instructions for healing a wound a little more readable? Why would you allow bizarre things like extractive capitalism to even enter our minds? I mean, the list goes on and on, y’all. What’s on your list? Yet more than a list of complai