Tuesday, October 06, 2009

Where is Watson the Worm Picker?

I am not Shelley and my lamp isn't totally shattered at the shank of this full moon, but I wonderewhy a long-cooled piece of rock should have such an effect on ones moods.
Eveything seems grey, grey.
One thinks gloomy thoughts about ones spouse, ones children, ones dog.
It takes just an iota of Buddhism to contemplate the futility of f*cking near everything. Your book will never be published hardcover. You have joined the list of also-rans.
You are consigned to teaching creative writing forever and worms seem to rise out of the ground with their accusantions: You've dug your last hole, Mole. We will put you into solitary confinement. You shall be a recluse and a nut.
I think of my friend Watson, (aka Eddie Snopes in my novels) who had somehow made a good living picking dew worms for Florida fishermen.
Watson picked his last worm recently. He died shortly after his house burned down. Did the worm ever turn?
Seems not for Watson. For a while he was rich on the insurance money and the worms; it was Watson's last waltz along the golf course.
You ceratainly cannot take it with you....But you leave all those D.P.'s-- Displaced Persons, Watson's brothers who are wandering the streets willy-nilly because Watson had forgotten to make a will. Three hundred thousand dollars gone poof and Watson up there laughing, I suppose.
It's sad old full moon out.
Where is Watson the worm picker?
I dasn't bait a hook.


the walking man said...

Nope no full moon fever here old man. What the hell is an also ran when the race ain't over yet eh? So Eddie passed intestate and the lawyers and state got his loot? Hell he doesn't need it or care anymore and his brother must know how to bend over and pick a dew worm right?

Mona said...

We had a lot of gray clouds hiding the full moon this time.

But yes, gray it was...

we have a saying in India

" maati kahe kumhaar se, tu kyoon raundhe moye/
Ek din aisaa ayega, main raundhoongi toye"

Meaning, the earth asks the potter, why do you squelch me under your feet/ A day is going to come when I shall be squelching you under me

If Watson is dead, then the worms are picking him this time....

ivan said...

That's pretty well it, Mark.

I think of a song line by Tony Joe White:

"Her daddy was a lazy no 'count
Claimed he had a bad back.

"And all her brothers were fit for
Was stealin' watermelons off my truck."
...Catch Poke Salad Annie...

ivan said...


Yes. In Hindi or Urdu, it's pretty wall all the same.

Charles Gramlich said...

There are a lot of also rans in the world. I'm one of them. Always will be.

ivan said...

KInda like what Mark said:

What the hell is an also ran when the race ain't over yet eh?

PhilipH said...

As the old sport of kings has it:

On the turf and under it, all men are equal.

We can't all be winners, but little bits of luck come along now and then. For that I'm thankful.

ivan said...

Yep. And old Tolstoi too, before he went bananas.

King or knave, we all end up smelling the same.

Luck is an amazing quantum. I should know.
Used up eight lives so far.
A cooling cat's got to be careful now.

Donnetta Lee said...

Cheer up, Ivan! The sun will be out tomorrow--or the day--or soon after that--hopefully. Oh, gosh. Now I'm down, too. It'll never happen. Will it? D

ivan said...


Oh it'll happen. And it has happened. But when it happens, we are generally so effed-up we can hardly handle it.

JR's Thumbprints said...

I'd rather have my shot at the title like Chuck Wepner, "The Human Tomato Can," then to never step into the ring. Never fear the worm, never fear the outcome (although we're all headed in the same direction: six feet under, or ash, or like Ted Williams).

ivan said...

JR, Thanks.

Did you hear wheat those effed-up cryogenicists did to poor dead Ted Williams' frozen head?

TomCat said...

If memory serves from your earlier posts, Watson was a decent fellow. On that basis, Republican Jesus would not allow him into Supply-side heaven, so his whereabouts is unknbown. ;-)

ivan said...


Intriguing. It is indeed a point to ponder.

benjibopper said...

published in hardcover? damn, there's a goal i never even thought of.

fame and fortune's for chumps. sappy as it may be, i really just want to make my living as a writer, writing things my heart is into. as it happens, that's what i get to do.

hope the same was true for eddie snopes, and i tip my toque to him.

ivan said...

Eddie Snopes, in his own way, did make it.

JR's Thumbprints said...

Seems logical to me: a tuna can for a pedestal. How else are you going to hold the head up?

ivan said...

...And then the can got frozen to the head, they couldn't get it off and they pried it off with a pair of vice grips or something. If the head of Ted is ever rususcitated, he's going to have one hell of an ache.