Saturday, June 28, 2008
Kado Untuk Keith. (posted for my Malay speaking friends)
I sit with one quiet satisfaction. Every year, in June, I remind my coworker how terribly old she is getting. This year, she has turned thirty-eight. Well, come July eight, I too will be thirty-eight years old. I have this on my profiles. I have no point in hiding. I know that when my friend refers to me as Bapak Keith, it is a sign of respect, not of my great chronological advancement.
What I reap, I shall sow. If I want to be mean to my coworker- a hair's breadth older than me- than I will likewise be haunted by others wanting to remind me of my special day ahead... This is in one, if not many of my profiles.
I do not want to discuss this. I have received a picture, and I will post it here, of my birthday present, en route to me from a location very far away... I see the picture, haunted by the picture. I think what kind of taunting person would send me a picture of my gift, a very beautiful picture.
Understand me when I say this. I hated the taunting notion that I would have to wait until Christmas to figure out what was inside my packages, sitting under the tree. I also knew that there was a horrible enticement in this room, this one room in my home, that my sister and I were forbidden to enter in the weeks prior to Christmas. I would imagine in that room were paper shopping bags of presents that would eventually show up under the tree on Christmas Day.
I want you to know I only assume what was in that room. To admit more would inculpate me, and I live in a country where I am encouraged never to say anything that would in anyway incriminate me. I understood the ultimate value of this Fifth Amendment to the United States Constitution when I heard the case of the renowned psychic Miss Cleo, who was arrested for her questionable business practices.
When Miss Cleo was asked her name, she invoked her Fifth Amendment rights, and I still think that that is wild and intense.
"What is your name?"
"I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that the answer may tend to incriminate me."
So, I drifted on a tangent long enough. My gift is a taunt. That I have to await its arrival is a taunt. That I ruminate on my fortieth birthday as if it ius a landing strip. I see the landing lights. I was already told by my sister of our approach to forty. I told her in disgust that that is two and a half years away.
So, where is Monty Hall when I ponder what to do? Do I ask to open the curtain, or do I accept what is in the box? God is good, so I will wait for the package.
Thank you for reading.
(I have received the picture, and will post it once I get an accommodating Internet connection. )