September 11, 2012

Somebody was telling me how he gets accused of being a “tool,” and I, being happy to take a metaphor literally or find a metaphor in something prosaic, asked him, “Well, then, what tool would you like to be?  Vise-grips, hammer, chisel?  With what tool do you most closely identify?  Maybe you’ll see something helpful through figuring that out.”

I don’t think I’ve ever gotten accused of being a tool.  I’ve been accused of being “the evil woman,” though.  Willy used to tease me into not getting caught up in resisting the criticism, by his singing and dancing to the song “Evil Woman” by ELO and trying get me to dance with him to it.   Usually I couldn’t help laughing as a result.  Willy could whistle with perfect pitch, but his singing was another story — one of our dogs found his singing alarming.  His style of dancing was sweet but rudimentary.  (Nevertheless, he wasn’t shy about engaging in either activity, in fact he could be downright enthusiastic about both.)  It stands out to me years later as an example of how Willy could get past all my defenses and express his caring, and, also, help me.


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