You should see the little fish from the Fall Carnival, the two my friend's son won at the goldfish toss. He spent two dollars and got two fish. Had to stop and get something to put them in, of course. But one of them, Bob, didn't make it through the week. So they bought a new tank with a filter and lights and green gravel and a big Easter Island figure. And they bought a new fish. So now, in the darkness of the night with the lights out, the fish tank glows ethereally, New Bob chasing Dash around ceaselessly, trying always to kiss him. Maybe. It is unnerving to watch. I want to thump New Bob in the head and make him quit, but I watched too much Jacques Coutseau as a boy and too much Wild Kingdom and too many nature specials. As the one thing ate the other, the narrator would tell us in no uncertain terms that it would be wrong to interfere with the cycle of nature. Except this ain't nature. It is an aquarium. Still, it seems like a good life, a life without predators, a life with crystal clear water and a steady supply of food. I had aquariums when I was a kid, and I remember watching them for long, underwater periods. Guppies, Neon Tetras, Angel Fish, and the Catfish that grew huge on the poop of the others. It was therapeutic, I told my friend last night, to sit there and watch the fish without really thinking of them or not thinking of them but watching them while my mind would have an unconscious party figuring itself out.
She just looked at me and said in a droll voice, "Really. That explains a lot."
But I'm thinking I need my own aquarium again. I could use some time staring into the fish tank, thinking without thinking, letting my mind play with the fishes darting here and there in the clean water and the steady supply of food. It doesn't matter that it is not nature. Neither is my life. My life is like an aquarium. A bad aquarium that wants cleaning. The water's gone brown and needs filtering. The gravel needs to be changed. One of the bulbs has gone dead.
I may get one this weekend. After I look at automobiles. Mine sits this morning in the parking lot of the Y where it spent the night. I've used up all my calls to AAA they tell me. I had five on the plan. Now I must pay. I will go this morning and try to start it one more time. Maybe I will have some luck. If I do, I will drive it straight to the auto repair shop that told me two weeks ago that the car was fine. But it is an antique now, an '85 Volvo with rusted metal, torn up leather seats, and a window that doesn't work much any more. I hate buying cars, but maybe it is time.
And maybe I should get the aquarium, too. I can let my mind rise and fall, float and dart, back and forth, back and forth in a hypnotic dance, lit up in the darkness only by the xenon colored rays.
Dad gum it.
ReplyDeleteTo hell with the fish tank.
Put that dang-blasted rust bucket up on cinder blocks in the front yard and have yourself a hillbilly lawn ornament to contemplate.
An aquarium would be nice, a lovely way to spend the afternoon, ignoring reality and just letting your mind float. Unfortunately there is the upkeep and the maintenance and I know I wouldn't be disciplined enough...but still a lovely idea. Good luck with the car... "one of the bulbs has gone dead" is a great line!
ReplyDeleteyay! kissing gouramis and swordtails and angel fish.
ReplyDeleteafter that you can graduate to a cichlid tank -- balancing the ph with walls of rocks
a giant oscar! oh an the arowana!
yup it all starts with a carnival gold fish it does.
dumb New Bob.
cc, spent too many years looking at hillbilly lawn ornaments. there is only one way to run when you come from there.
ReplyDeleteR, aquariums, as I remember from childhood, are a lot of work. i don't need any more right now. you're right. and thanks for noticing my metaphor.
L, SWORDTAILS! i forgot about them. i always had them. once, one morphed from one sex to the other. i was young and baffled by this. i was never interested in the cichlids or oscars, though. too big. i liked the miniature world.
I went all the way.
ReplyDeleteA Salt water tank.
Liked the cichlids lots. My swordtails were always pregnant. Once I had one that got a brain tumor. My brother and I were very sad.
Also, we had those little green turtles that were allowed before those little turtles became disease transporters. I really loved my turtles.
I had the turtles, too, but they were hard to keep alive. I used to let them crawl around the house and once my friend was running around and stepped on my turtle. Squished it bad. I cried like crazy. That was my last turtle.
ReplyDelete