2.16.22

Writing is so brave because you run the risk of feeling awkward, hurting the people you love by sharing your opinions, exposing your life. Reading Sheila Heti, How Should A Person Be? And realizing the pure heroism, the bravery of writing. She talks about cocks and blow jobs and buying the same dress as her best friend and then her best friend emailing her about how she felt uncomfortable about it. And it may not all be true but it doesn’t matter. The people are real enough and I’m sure they know if it’s true. 

“Good writing is just good thinking and good thinking is just letting God do the thinking.” From one of Caveh’s journals. 

One of her earliest memories was lying on the bed that she shared with her brother on her parents’ floor pretending to be asleep. She was about five and it was early in the morning. From the low vantage point of the mattress she peered through a sweaty, plushy, five year old arm slung over her face and saw her mom’s legs on the other side of the room getting ready for work. She made a snap decision and started thrashing her arms around with her eyes closed and wailed “No! No! Nooooooo!” In seconds her mother was beside her, kneeled on the floor bent over her, hugging her and hushing into her ear, “It’s ok, it’s ok, you’re just having a bad dream.” Satisfied, she pretended the nightmare had resolved itself, and actually fell asleep. 

While the child was in their room doing zoom therapy on the nanny’s phone, the nanny was preparing to take the trash out of the bins in the kitchen to the big bins outside. She noticed a flashing green light at the bottom of the trash bag. That’s weird. She reached her hand down and retrieved the flashing green light. It was coming from an at home rapid PCR Covid test. There was a small vial filled with blood looking liquid sticking out of a white base with options written on it: Ready Done, Positive and Negative. All four options were flashing a lime green. She flipped the thing over and saw that there were two double A batteries inside. Aren’t you not supposed to throw away batteries? She thought about the double baddness of the situation. She thought about her mom saying how awful this type of covid test was because it required so much packaging and an entire battery operated thing that you use once and throw away. She thought about how you aren’t supposed to throw away batteries. Can they start fires? Or was it just that battery acid is toxic and all batteries eventually leak so disposing of them responsibly is the way to go. There’s just something wrong about having a blinking light in your trash can. She tried to pry the batteries out of the plastic case. Her nails were really short and she couldn’t get under the lip of either battery to get it out. She tried for about 30 painful, aggravating seconds, but eventually gave up. I just can’t do it.

She thought about how it was the dad who did it because the mom was in New York and she probably knew about not throwing away batteries. Or you know what the dad probably knows, he’s old, he just doesn't care enough. Hey, the battery acid won’t leak on me.

She was feeling bitter, even slightly heartbroken, because they had stopped by the dad’s studio on the way home from school to pick up the dog, and the dad was strumming his guitar while working with this other guy on a commercial for crypto. The dad barely acknowledged the nanny, didn’t introduce her to the guy, and then asked his kid if they wanted to watch the ad, and asked them to take a seat in front of the three monitor setup.

The nanny moved some papers from a chair behind her and sat down, but realized she couldn’t see the screen from that chair so she stood up, felt awkward standing up, and moved papers from another chair that had a better vantage point. They had already started the ad.

People of all shapes and sizes and colors and ages were cosplaying as cavemen in a rocky landscape. The cavemen talked in modern voices and acted modern in every way except their outfits. There was a sort of time lapse of the villagers inventing the wheel. Some villagers were against the wheel and preferred the old way of dragging. A calm, smooth, female woman’s voice narrated over the scene explaining that sometimes we don’t even realize progress is progress, and look what we can do if we put our heads together. Then after nearly 3 minutes, small white text of the crypto company logo overlaid over the screen as a group of cave men ride away on their new stone wheel cart.

The nanny laughed and said Jesus, but no one looked at her. The dad asked the kid what they thought.

 “It’s amazing, I want to watch a whole YouTube series of these guys.” The dad laughed. Of course you do. The nanny thought. Any screen time is good screen time. The kid kept monologuing about the merits of the ad while the dad and the other guy laughed gleefully. The nanny looked at her phone, worried they were going to be late for therapy.

 “Here, I’ll show you the shorter 60 second version.” The dad said. The other guy clicked another tab in the editing software and the same ad but shorter played again. After it was over, the kid immediately started talking about it again.

“It’s like that thing where it could be an ad for rice.” The dad laughed. What the kid said was funny and true. The nanny had been thinking this as well. 

“Like it could be an ad for anything?” The dad prompted. 

“Yeah.” The dad asked if the kid thought it was funny and if the kid could hear all the lines. 

Even though no one asked her what she thought, the nanny said, “I couldn’t hear the woman’s voice.” 

“You mean the narrator?” The dad asked. 

“Yeah.” She realized the double meaning of her statement as she looked around the room.