Blog
It Would Take a Cyclops
A good friend passed away last weekend, and fortunately I was able to go home for the funeral.
Since the trip was (obviously) a last-minute thing, my tickets were insanely stupid. I understand the whole hub concept with airlines, but I will never understand the apparent fascination with sending me east to go west. Fortunately, when I checked in, the ticket agent also thought my itinerary was beyond stupid, and he managed to cut out one of the three flights. The cost: I’d have a five-hour layover and wouldn’t actually arrive any sooner.
Five hours in an airport beats five hours in a plane, however, and I was thrilled with the new itinerary.
The ticket agent forgot to mention that the airport had not one but two Cinnabons in it. This is surely cruel and inhumane. Every time I thought, “Oh, it’s ok if I cheat…,” I walked the airport. This plan was brilliant, except for two minor issues: about the time I was over my temptation, I’d hit the second Cinnabons and go through it all over again. And I was not wearing walking shoes. My foot is one big blister.
But I didn’t eat any sugar, and that’s something.
I also overheard someone say, “It would take a Cyclops,” and I honestly almost turned around to ask him what the hell would take a Cyclops. I mean, in what situation would you require a one-eyed monster? True, the elder Cyclops—giants from the time of the Titans, who, when freed by Zeus, did useful things like forging him thunderbolts—could be useful. But most people don’t know about them. They only know about the younger Cyclops, specifically Polyphemus, so famously blinded by Odysseus. He was sheep herder. Thunderbolt forger, sheep herder… they aren’t at all the same thing, really.
I didn’t ask, so I share with you now. Let your imagination run rampant. If you had a Cyclops, what exactly would you be able to achieve that you couldn’t previously?
In other news, you’ll be pleased to know I have one of the all-time top scores for the trivia game on the flight home. This amazed my seat mate, who had confided to me earlier that the game was amazingly hard. This is probably true, unless you (luckily) hit a round that is all literary and classical questions, with some easily-guessed pop culture references. Well, lucky for me, anyway. With the high score won, I quit playing lest a round come up with (horrors) sports questions and my ignorance be revealed.
And my brilliant plan to surprise my family with my weight loss is shot, since the first thing my mom said when she saw me was “You look great!” While gratifying—who doesn’t like to be complimented?—there goes my brilliant plan. Now I have to come up with something new for Christmas.
Although the trip wasn’t for a happy reason, there were good moments. I dropped in at my old barn, to find my favorite foal (a three-year old now!) was as irresistible as ever. He’s a hunter to the bone and coming along very nicely from all accounts. Not that I ever doubted it.
I’m back home now, trying to catch up—I missed a lot of work last week—and probably won’t be updating for a while. This week has been exhausting, this year has been exhausting, and short of mind-boggling references to Cyclopses, I have no idea what I would say.
My friend was a great guy, and he will be greatly missed. I will be back, and he will not. I’m not sure what else there is to say.
« With apologies to Cake Wrecks... Why I Don't Read Dickens »
Comments
A favorite saying from my younger days: “It’s all fun and games til someone loses an eye, then it’s all fun and games with no depth perception.”
A Cyclops would definitely help one move into or out of a second-floor apartment. Since I recently moved into a second-floor place, thoughts of one day dragging this couch down the stairs are weighing on my mind. Also, I could ask for a few thunderbolts in case the neighbors have a loud party.
Sadly, my momma didn’t raise me right - I am very sorry to hear about your friend. Sucks to lose a friend, especially when it’s unexpected. :(
I am so sorry for your loss. Tough time. May you find comfort where ever it lives for you.
On the Cyclops, hm, it’s difficult to get past thinking what a great comment that is to overhear (and your amazing prowess at resisting not one, but TWO cinnabon’s. I’d be trailing sugar.)
That’s a post in itself: Reasons I Need a Cyclops.
1. ironwork and sheepherding yadda yadda, ok so your yard would have amazing fencing and you’d have a lot of woolen fabric…on to the interesting stuff
2. Celebrity advertising for sunglasses? “Even a Cyclops looks good in [brand name]!”
3. Someone to get things off high shelving. (oops, boring. Right!)
4. No more horse trailer! The Cyclops can carry your horse. Next thing you know, it will be all the rage: Cyclops will be walking into Starbucks everywhere with designer horse purses.
5.Clean energy: lightening bolts can be forged and thrown and the energy harnessed: Cyclops will stop global warming single handed, er, eyed-ly.
6. If you had your own Cyclops, (presuming his eyesight was 20/20) you could contract him out to the government for long range surveillance/reconnaissance purpose: satellites can’t reason and make decisions, a Cyclops can.
Now I am certain you are sorry you asked. It should be illegal for me to free associate.
Sending warm thoughts your way.
Maybe they were referring to a particularly clingy and stalker-esque woman. It would take a cyclops to scare her away. On this one, I’m sure they could flex as to whether it was a metal-working cyclops or a sheep-herding cyclops.
Y’all crack me up! The laughs were much appreciated—exactly what I needed. Thank you!
On Nov 9, 2009, Marissa said:
Sorry to hear about your friend, but I am glad you were able to get home.
What on earth would take a cyclops? Perhaps they needed a spy who could peer through a keyhole in a door for extended periods of time? Or perhaps wondering who could have a laboratory job that requires staring through a microscope all day long without getting a cramp in his forehead from closing one eye?
Those are my best guesses. I’m sure I’m right on track….