It’s early in the morning on the elliptical with Handel’s Concerti Grossi Op. 3 – it’s always Handel’s Concerti Grossi Op. 3 on the elliptical in the mornings – playing as loud as possible with the windows open, one more reason I am such a top contender for the Neighbour of the Year Award.
I’m reading John Irving’s Trying to Save Piggy Sneed, which includes a story about the sort of circus characters we always fear that our children will run off with.
In one scene they’re out on the town in a car that’s not their own.
The driver is the singing man; beside him is the man who walks on his hands, waving out the window with his feet; in the back, separating the dream man from his former wife, is the old bear, slouched over like some benign drunk, his big head brushing the top of the upholstered roof, his large clawless paws sitting on his large lap.
The poor people, Grandmother says. They’re liars and criminals, she adds, for sure not the sort of characters who will walk away with the prizes.
But they’re not a lot different, really, from some of my past friends who are really the best I’ve ever had. And I can only hope that my children will someday run into characters who are just as worthwhile and true.