March 21, 2005
stew
When I went to Florida with OuchyKim she said this phrase, "Put that in your stew!" She said it when she wanted someone to put something in their pipe and smoke it. I said, "Put that in your stew and stow it!" It seemed to need that extra finishing bit.
These days, however, I've been doing the stewing myself. Or I've been stewing myself. Something like that.
The past few weeks have held much rumination for Miss Dotty Parker. Self-reflection is one thing. It's often informative, useful, instructive. Rumination, however, is self-reflection gone awry. No rollicking inspirations or moments of hero-worthy epiphany came my way. My satori moment of ah-ha was limited to that song "Take On Me." Divine inspiration it was not.
No, my darlings, I was in possession of a vast quantity of negativity and cyclical thought patterns. And I can't have that. It's distressing, unpleasant, and worrying. I am waiting for it to pass. One day it will be vanquished and I can market the deep, deep thoughts I've brewed in my stew.
When I lived in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, home of R. J. Reynolds tobacco, there was a cigarette machine in a hippie coffee shop. The machine dispensed packages of poetry in cigarette boxes. Each bit of poetry was on paper rolled into the shape of a cigarette.
I'm thinking of soup. Or stew. Perhaps I could make cans of soup that would inspire people to think on specific themes. I could say, "Running out of ideas for that valedictorian speech? Try Supercilious Sipping Soup!" I could ask, "Tired of being accused of day dreaming? Have Chunky Wisdom Chowder today!"
It could be very good.
Now for what to put in it...
