Bol and Bel are urban (and sometimes, urbane) creatures who live on a planet called SOM (short for the "Ship of Monkeys") populated by four distinct species -- Monkeys, Doggies, AEs (short for the "Arch Enemies") and Rwaonds (short for the "rest who are of non-doggie species). Bol is a beautiful, headstrong, worldly, unpredictable (of the "Captain Jack Sparrow" ilk, for "Pirates" fans), somewhat irresponsible, adult Doggie. Bel is a somewhat cloyingly sweet, overly curious, naive, gangly teen Doggie, who appears attractive in a certain light. Bel and Bol were both lovingly adopted and live with Ma Monkey and Pa Monkey who bestow all kinds of affection on Bel and Bol and as such, are sadly, the unwitting slaves of these two Doggies. These are their conversations....
Evening pink has just started to crowd out the shades of blue in a deepening sky over SOM at the end of another gorgeous day. Pa Monkey is on his daily evening walk with Bel and Bol in tow. While Pa Monkey stops to discuss something important (no doubt) with a Neighbor Monkey, Bel and Bol are left to their own devices, albeit securely tethered to Pa Monkey on a long leash. Bol’s keen eyes spot an AE sprawled on the steps of one of the nearby houses on the tree-lined street. The AE spots Bol; their eyes lock. But, surprisingly, the AE does not budge from the reclining position favored by Greco-Roman Epicureans. Bol, unable to believe his eyes (and his luck), ambles over and Bel dutifully trots along with him.
Bol: (makes a snapping motion right at the AEs face)
The AE: (yawning and scratching it’s tummy says brightly) Hi there!
Bol: How dare you address me? More importantly, why haven’t you run up a tree yet? You all are good at that particular escape route.
The AE: (stretching into and out of various yogic postures) Why should I run? This is my house. And, I must say, you’re not very nice. (spotting Bel) Hi there! Aren’t you a cutie!
Bel: (shyly, and completely forgetting the Bol-imposed rule of not talking to AEs) Hi, what’s your name?
The AE: (much less shyly, in fact, not shyly at all) Pumpkin!
Bol: (unable to contain himself and thus, losing all sense of composure starts sniffing Pumpkin’s tummy) Sniff, sniff!
Pumpkin: (coyly) Hey, aren’t you the forward one!
Bol: (surprised at how good Pumpkin smelled unbeknownst to himself starts wagging his tail) Aren’t you at all afraid of me?
Pumpkin: Why should I be afraid? You two look perfectly harmless and rather cute at that!
Bel: (uncharacteristically speechless and feeling a twinge of jealously at Bol’s fascination with Pumpkin)
Bel: (cautiously nipping Pumpkin’s left ear and surprised at the affection he feels wellingg up inside for an AE) You’re not at all what I imagined AEs would be like.
Pumpkin: Is that so? But, how would you know if you’ve never stopped to talk to one and all you’ve ever done is chase them? (a trifle sharply) Now answer me that, genius!
This happy bucolic scene is brought to an abrupt end as Ma Monkey tears down the street toward them.
Ma Monkey: Pa, watch out! Bol’s going to make short work of that cat!
Pa Monkey immediately jerks Bol’s and Bel’s leashes and takes them to a safe distance away from Pumpkin.
Ma Monkey: Poor kitty! Did bad Bol scare you?
Bol: (sputtering his indignant protest) But, But…
Pumpkin: (purring and generally trying her best to look cute) Purrrrr…
Ma Monkey: Bad Bol! Pa, you better continue on your walk.
Pa Monkey walks off with an understanding smile and a wink at Bel and Bol. Bol gives the unjust world and its tyrant, Ma Monkey, a sulky look. Bel is happy to have Bol back all to herself again, which accounts for the spring in her gait. Pumkin sidles off into a nearby bush. Ma Monkey walks back home shaking her head at Bol’s audacity and general naughtiness.
THE END
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
An Unschooled Imagination: The New Adventures of Bol and Bel on the Ship of Monkeys
Bol and Bel are urban (and sometimes, urbane) creatures who live on a planet called SOM (short for the "Ship of Monkeys") populated by four distinct species -- Monkeys, Doggies, AEs (short for the "Arch Enemies") and Rwaonds (short for the "rest who are of non-doggie species). Bol is a beautiful, headstrong, worldly, unpredictable (of the "Captain Jack Sparrow" ilk, for "Pirates" fans), somewhat irresponsible, adult Doggie. Bel is a somewhat cloyingly sweet, overly curious, naive, gangly teen Doggie, who appears attractive in a certain light. Bel and Bol were both lovingly adopted and live with Ma Monkey and Pa Monkey who bestow all kinds of affection on Bel and Bol and as such, are sadly, the unwitting slaves of these two Doggies. These are their conversations....
It was another apple-crisp fall day in SOM. Cloud ballerinas pirouetted and frolicked in an azure sky. The sun’s warmth rounded out the edges of a cool breeze. The world felt new and full of promises for our two young protagonists. Bel and Bol were exploring the tiny garden at the back of the house, as was their wont on lazy, weekend afternoons. The garden was lovingly, if somewhat carelessly, tended by Ma Monkey (who invariably remembered to water the plants while in the midst of other, more important tasks). The garden’s flowers, herbs, fruits and vegetables attracted a number of Lepidoptera, which were a source of endless fascination for Bel. Bol, a consummate, cynic plagued by ennui, couldn’t be less interested…
Bel: (skipping merrily) Bol! Look!
Bol: (yawns lazily)
Bel: (leaping over some potted mint) Whee! Look at me! I’m flying!
Bol: (mutters under his breath) Yeah, right. (Loudly) Why my little Bel is quite the Icarus! Bravo!
Bel: (stops short and then, haltingly) Who’s Ica… Ikeh…rus?
Bol: (afraid of opening a can of worms, starts furiously concentrating on a live worm instead) Never you mind.
Bel: (cheerily) Okey-dokey! (returns to her flying acrobatic antics)
Bol: (in the meantime, flops down in a sunny spot for a snooze)
Bel: (stops jumping and starts sniffing one of the flower beds intently) Bol, do you smell something?
Bol: (opening an eye) Well, your pee-smell in that corner is rather overpowering, ne c’est pas? Other smells don’t stand a chance! (Satisfied with this latest barb at Bel’s puerile habit of peeing in the garden, Bol goes back to daydreaming of catching AEs.)
Bel: (to herself) Fine, I won’t share what I find with you then. So, there! The smell is somewhat like the yellowish, paper-wrapped food that Ma and Pa Monkey get from the big food place. I love that stuff! Or, I “think” I would love it just from the delicious smell that wafts from the paper cover… I’ve never actually eaten the yellowish, waxy-looking brick inside… I don’t even know what it’s called! I bet Bol would know, but I’m not going to tell him. This smell and what lies at the end of this scent trail will be my very own secret. (Roots around in the dirt and viola, finds a piece of cheese and promptly eats it!)
Bol: (sensing food-related activity perks up) Bel, what are you munching on?
Bel: (in muffled tones, due a full mouth) Nuff-ing.
Bol: (in a threatening tone) ‘Fess up, Bel!
Bel: Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. You know that yellowish brick thing that Ma Monkey loves to eat?
Bol: What? You mean – cheese?
Bel: (as usual, losing her train of thought) So that’s what it’s called. I always wondered, you know!
Bol: (growls impatiently) Grrrowl!
Bel; (taking her cue) Right, where was I? Cheese (saying the unfamiliar word carefully). Yes, there is a Cheese Tree in this garden and since I discovered it, its mine.
Bol: (managing a sound between a laugh and a cough) Hrrumph! Really now?
Bel: (courage getting fainter by the nanosecond) I guess it wouldn’t hurt to share with you and of course, with (her true love) Ma Monkey and (her other true love) Pa Monkey.
Bol: (amused at Bel’s phantasmagoria of a cheese tree, but for once taking pity at Bel’s vivid, unschooled imagination) Whatever you say, Bel. What-ever you say.
Bel goes back to rooting around at the base of the plant she has renamed The Cheese Tree. Finding nothing after a few minutes of a thorough search and sniff, she bounds off inside the house to deliver telepathic hints to Ma Monkey in order to make her water the plants so that more cheese could be enjoyed by all!
Bol, still in the garden, goes back to a semi-doze state, mesmerized by the beauty of a floating mite in a shimmery tube of light.
THE END
It was another apple-crisp fall day in SOM. Cloud ballerinas pirouetted and frolicked in an azure sky. The sun’s warmth rounded out the edges of a cool breeze. The world felt new and full of promises for our two young protagonists. Bel and Bol were exploring the tiny garden at the back of the house, as was their wont on lazy, weekend afternoons. The garden was lovingly, if somewhat carelessly, tended by Ma Monkey (who invariably remembered to water the plants while in the midst of other, more important tasks). The garden’s flowers, herbs, fruits and vegetables attracted a number of Lepidoptera, which were a source of endless fascination for Bel. Bol, a consummate, cynic plagued by ennui, couldn’t be less interested…
Bel: (skipping merrily) Bol! Look!
Bol: (yawns lazily)
Bel: (leaping over some potted mint) Whee! Look at me! I’m flying!
Bol: (mutters under his breath) Yeah, right. (Loudly) Why my little Bel is quite the Icarus! Bravo!
Bel: (stops short and then, haltingly) Who’s Ica… Ikeh…rus?
Bol: (afraid of opening a can of worms, starts furiously concentrating on a live worm instead) Never you mind.
Bel: (cheerily) Okey-dokey! (returns to her flying acrobatic antics)
Bol: (in the meantime, flops down in a sunny spot for a snooze)
Bel: (stops jumping and starts sniffing one of the flower beds intently) Bol, do you smell something?
Bol: (opening an eye) Well, your pee-smell in that corner is rather overpowering, ne c’est pas? Other smells don’t stand a chance! (Satisfied with this latest barb at Bel’s puerile habit of peeing in the garden, Bol goes back to daydreaming of catching AEs.)
Bel: (to herself) Fine, I won’t share what I find with you then. So, there! The smell is somewhat like the yellowish, paper-wrapped food that Ma and Pa Monkey get from the big food place. I love that stuff! Or, I “think” I would love it just from the delicious smell that wafts from the paper cover… I’ve never actually eaten the yellowish, waxy-looking brick inside… I don’t even know what it’s called! I bet Bol would know, but I’m not going to tell him. This smell and what lies at the end of this scent trail will be my very own secret. (Roots around in the dirt and viola, finds a piece of cheese and promptly eats it!)
Bol: (sensing food-related activity perks up) Bel, what are you munching on?
Bel: (in muffled tones, due a full mouth) Nuff-ing.
Bol: (in a threatening tone) ‘Fess up, Bel!
Bel: Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. You know that yellowish brick thing that Ma Monkey loves to eat?
Bol: What? You mean – cheese?
Bel: (as usual, losing her train of thought) So that’s what it’s called. I always wondered, you know!
Bol: (growls impatiently) Grrrowl!
Bel; (taking her cue) Right, where was I? Cheese (saying the unfamiliar word carefully). Yes, there is a Cheese Tree in this garden and since I discovered it, its mine.
Bol: (managing a sound between a laugh and a cough) Hrrumph! Really now?
Bel: (courage getting fainter by the nanosecond) I guess it wouldn’t hurt to share with you and of course, with (her true love) Ma Monkey and (her other true love) Pa Monkey.
Bol: (amused at Bel’s phantasmagoria of a cheese tree, but for once taking pity at Bel’s vivid, unschooled imagination) Whatever you say, Bel. What-ever you say.
Bel goes back to rooting around at the base of the plant she has renamed The Cheese Tree. Finding nothing after a few minutes of a thorough search and sniff, she bounds off inside the house to deliver telepathic hints to Ma Monkey in order to make her water the plants so that more cheese could be enjoyed by all!
Bol, still in the garden, goes back to a semi-doze state, mesmerized by the beauty of a floating mite in a shimmery tube of light.
THE END
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Because I Stopped For Death
Today I spied
an old woman walking on the street.
It took me a minute to realize
that the picture was not quite right.
She was walking in the middle of a busy lane
with her back facing traffic.
Her progress was slow—
one foot carefully placed after the other.
She was dressed impeccably;
her eyes had a far-away look.
"Madam," I said a few times,
before she turned around.
Hazel eyes focused on me,
then unfocused and slipped away.
"Don't you think it's dangerous
to walk thus, in the middle of a busy street?"
She shrugged imperceptibly
and walked off the street and onto the sidewalk.
I continued on my own walk,
only to miss being hit by
a careless driver, cradling a phone
with barely an eye on the road.
I saved Death from itself that day
and the favor was returned.
I was left wondering,
"What in the world would cause Death
to seek an end."
an old woman walking on the street.
It took me a minute to realize
that the picture was not quite right.
She was walking in the middle of a busy lane
with her back facing traffic.
Her progress was slow—
one foot carefully placed after the other.
She was dressed impeccably;
her eyes had a far-away look.
"Madam," I said a few times,
before she turned around.
Hazel eyes focused on me,
then unfocused and slipped away.
"Don't you think it's dangerous
to walk thus, in the middle of a busy street?"
She shrugged imperceptibly
and walked off the street and onto the sidewalk.
I continued on my own walk,
only to miss being hit by
a careless driver, cradling a phone
with barely an eye on the road.
I saved Death from itself that day
and the favor was returned.
I was left wondering,
"What in the world would cause Death
to seek an end."
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