Strange Pulse

And Joan Baez came on to introduce something. I said to Daniel, “I met her once. She said I looked like the burning bush.”

He asked when and I told him when I was 16, the same trip I met U2.

He said, “You are the weirdest girl I have ever known.”

I asked why and he said, “I can’t believe we’ve been married for 20 years and you just tell me, ‘oh yeah, I met Joan Baez, she called me the burning bush!’”

(She called me that because of my hair, which looked about like this at the time, only bigger. I think I may have been wearing that exact sweater.)

“I’m only telling you this because I love you…”

I thought for sure he was going to nag me about something.

But he continued, “…and you can’t watch it here, because I’m watching something else, but you can go record it.”

He gestured to the TV where the guide showed that Damien Rice is on a show called Breakfast with the Arts this morning.

I have a sensory integration disorder that makes me not like to be touched. My husband Daniel has the opposite—he loves to be touched. I especially hate light touches, or touches that are repetitive. Like when he puts his arms around my shoulders and taps his finger on my arm. HATE IT. Of course, part of his sensory issue is that he wants to tap on things! He also likes to snap his fingers. I wring my hands. I want hard touches. If I get a massage, I want it to be hard enough that it hurts. If I get a back scratch, I want it to be almost painful. Daniel doesn’t like having his back scratched. He wants his back rubbed, and it doesn’t matter how hard it is.

Part of my sensitivity to touch means I can’t stand not wearing comfortable clothes. When I find a pair of pants that feel comfortable, I often buy two or three pairs. So I’m sure it looks like I’m wearing the same clothes everyday.

The one touch I do enjoy is scratching. The harder, the better. I always want a back scratch. A leg scratch. An arm scratch. Anything. I actually itch all day long. I mostly tune it out. But by evening I itch everywhere. My face, my back, my arms, my scalp, everywhere. Daniel almost always gives me a back scratch when I get home (as long as he gets a back rub).

One of them is big, fat, and hairy, and the other one is an elephant.

Elijah made that up. (I think. At least, he told it to us.)

Elijah is always asking what our favorite anythings are. Like who is your favorite band, what’s your favorite song, etc. At dinner last night he asked what our favorite scary movies are, and after we all said, Daniel turned to me and asked, “What’s your favorite movie?”

I said, “Life is Beautiful.”

He said, “I don’t know you at all.”

He started trying to guess my favorites. He guessed U2 as my all-time favorite band, but I said no, the Waterboys. He didn’t believe me at first: “But U2 is second then,” and I said, “No, it’s the Waterboys, then Everything But the Girl, then Jackson Browne.”

He had no idea who my favorite author was (Thoreau), although he got it after a couple hints.

Then he asked what his favorite movie is. Obvious: Dune. What his favorite book is. Obvious: Dune. Who his favorite band is. Obvious: The Who.

When we were driving home, Elijah asked us, “Who is your favorite kid?”

We laughed, and I said, “Who is your favorite parent?”

Nathaniel said, without hesistation, “Mom.”

Cat said, “How are we supposed to know? We never see you guys!”

Elijah said, “Yeah. What are parents?”

We were driving home from a restaurant tonight and the kids were all kind of grouchy. Nathaniel was trying to tell us about something and he kept pausing while he was talking. Elijah complained, “Do you realize that you keep pausing when you talk?”

Nathaniel said, “Well that’s because I’m thinking about what I’m going to say! What do you want me to do instead? Go, RRRRRRAAAAARRRR!” and he made this horrible screeching noise.

Daniel and I started laughing so hard we were almost crying. Daniel said, “I was walking down the street, and…RRRRRRAAAAARRRR! then I went into this store, and RRRRRRAAAAARRRR!”

We were all rolling. And then Daniel capped it off: “What’s really funny is that we used to know a guy who talked just like that.”

Me, gasping with laughter: “Hahaha! That’s right! HAHAHAHA! He had a—” more gasping “—speech impediment!”

Daniel: “Yeah and we tried really hard not to laugh at him, but it was just so funny…”

I may have posted about this guy before. You know that sound you make when you pretend you’re using a walkie talkie? “Kkkcccccchhhhh.” He’d make that noise after everything he said. “So what are you doing today?kkkkkccccccchhhhhh” or “Wanna hear the song I just wrote kkkkkcccccchhhh.” He wrote songs on a small casio keyboard. “Tell me what you think kkkkkccccchhhh.”

A bunch of silhouette shots taken at the Valley of Fire.