The Funnies by John Lennon

Author:John Lennon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: The Funnies
ISBN: 9781936873647
Publisher: Dzanc Books
Published: 1999-06-10T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

I finally found Susan standing in the middle of the food vendors’ circle, blankly glancing around through her glasses, as she had at my father’s wake. I noticed for the first time that the circle looked much like a ring of covered wagons, cowering in the dust on a prairie of the American West, shielding itself from an attack by marauding Indians. Susan seemed unaware of any such attack. She took a bite out of something in her hand, and as I came closer I noticed it was a corn dog. She saw me, made a move to hide the corn dog, then gave up and brought it back into view.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she said. “The ultimate popular culture nostalgia cliché food. Would you believe I’ve never had one before?”

“Hmm,” I said.

“Really, this is my first.”

“I’m sorry,” I said suddenly, surprising myself with my vehemence.

She started. “About what?”

“Leaving you to your own devices this morning. Not letting you know I’d be going out to see our mom.”

“Good Lord, Tim, I don’t care about that. I’m a big girl.”

“I’m just not used to dealing with all these new people,” I said. “And old people too. Not that you personally are hard to deal with.”

“No offense taken.”

“I don’t feel like myself,” I said. “Do you know what I’m saying?”

She nodded. “I never feel like myself. Or rather I never feel like the person I think of myself as actually being, the sort of Platonic ideal of myself I always picture doing the things I’m about to do. And then when I do them this other person takes over and screws them up.”

We stood silently in all the commotion, nodding. Susan offered me a bite of her corn dog. I refused, still queasy from the Centrifuge of Death, but I didn’t tell her this, and I feared that this rebuff without explanation would give offense. Then I came to my senses and simply let it go. It was a wonderful feeling, like dropping a box off at the Goodwill.

“Is this on?” came a shrill voice, then a squeal of feedback. I turned to see the mayor, perched on the bandstand with a brass band setting up behind him, peering at the microphone as if it were a mutant strain of lab rat.

“Speaking of clichés,” Susan said.

“Hello? Hello?” The mayor was wearing a Family Funnies T-shirt, the one with a picture of Bobby saying, “Why’s it called a tea shirt? There’s no tea on it!” He also wore a deep, rich tan he hadn’t had the day before.

“It’s five o’clock,” Susan said. She pulled a folded schedule from her shorts pocket. “Time for the election results.”

“I forgot about that.”

Francobolli was fumbling with his notes now. A few people had gathered in the field, not many. I wondered how many townspeople had actually voted.

And then, something very strange happened: I became suddenly, inexplicably happy. It came to me like a faint, delicious scent swept from a distant place, and tumbled over and over itself, snowballing inside me, taking on weight.

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