Drunk with Clarke last night. Feeling sorry for ourselves in his living room after watching Kelly's Heroes. Peetsabooty was sleeping on the carpet in front of us. We were at a lull in the conversation when Clarke said, "I think life is generally a little disappointing."
"Yeah. A little," I replied. Too casually.
"The gifts I wanted to give were never needed."
"What gifts?"
"Oh, I dunno. The ways I'm good at being nice aren't helpful, and the ways I'm bad at it are."
I looked at Peetsabooty. He stared back with that vacant, soul-less look animals have. Nothing but instinct. Glassy eyes. Like a man exhausted at the end of a drunk.
4 comments:
This one makes me sad.
A dog with a name like "Peetsabooty" has gotta have a soul.
Yeah, these last few posts have been exceptionally bleak - but eloquent. I feel like you're honing in on something here. Something.
Kelly's Heroes, eh. Are you pining for chauvinist heroism? (and by 'chauvinist' I in no way mean to insult the film)
Boyda:
Yeah. I've felt a little bleak. I hadn't realized it.
Am I "pining for chauvinist heroism?" I don't know. Maybe. Mostly I just like Donald Sutherland in it, and the song that plays when the tank battle is beginning. And I like almost everything Clint Eastwood is in. Clarke has a big collection of Clint Eastwood VHS tapes he ordered through the mail.
Jon K:
I love Peetsabooty, and I don't know much about souls, but sometimes every animal is just, y'know, an animal.
Pete is a riot sometimes.
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