Gone Girl - December 7, 2016
My hubs, Laurence, and I spend our winters in a seniors’ trailer park. (The way I wrote this, it sounds like there are three of us. Sometimes it feels that way, when fighting for space. Ah well, another column.)
There are two things you can guarantee will happen in a small community of hearing impaired-people. 1. Rumours will fly, and 2. they won’t necessarily be accurate. I truly don’t mind living in a fishbowl – heck my day to day life is public on facebook, if anyone is interested. (My mom is interested. That’s kinda nice.)
Here is a cute example. I was out jog-walking the park the other day and a lad, sitting on his porch, said to me, “Have you got a minute for a funny story?” Always! Mark (not his real name) told me, he was talking on the phone to his wife Mindy (not her real name) and she said to him, “Did you hear? You know that nice lady who runs the park? And makes a lot of noise when she gets into the pool? She’s gone bl..nd..” At that very point she had to get off the phone.
What Mark heard was that I, Jan, had gone blind. I wave to him pretty much every morning when I “run” the park, and he had been away when we arrived. He felt devastated for me. He told me, he was sitting there saying, “That poor nice lady. What is she going to do? She used to have so much fun – and now she won’t be able to do much of anything.” By anything he meant the only thing he has ever seen me do – jog – or heard me do – scream when I get into the pool. (I’m a wimp.)
When his wife came home, he told her how sad he felt for that poor woman who used to run the park. Why did that have to happen to her?! Mindy asked, “What happened to Jan!?” Mark replied, “You told me – she’s gone blind.” Mindy responded “(insert adjective and noun here) – Jan hasn’t gone blind. She’s gone BLONDE! “Oh!” Mark responded, and then had to think for a moment if I would still be able to run the park and shriek into the pool.
*****
Have I gone blonde? Yes, but not intentionally. It’s true, I do get my hair dyed. I have for years, but mostly a chocolate brown. Enter swimming (or whatever is it I do in the pool) for a half year in highly chlorinated water – without a swimming cap. My hair kept getting lighter. My hairstylist would match my hair dye to my current colour and – trad da – I’m now blonde. I don’t feel blonde – not that I know how that is supposed to feel – but I am.
So, the question you might be asking yourself is, “Do gentlemen truly prefer blondes?” Well, the only gentleman in my life has been there for forty years, plus two years of courting. If you asked Laur what he’d prefer, this is what he’d like say. “I prefer:
a. That my meals be on time. (To his credit – he makes two of them, and does dishes for all three of them.)
b. That we don’t have to move again anytime soon. We have moved three times in just over and year.
c. That I don’t have to notice if you’ve got your hair done. Or anything done…”
Tis true. This afternoon I got my hair cut and styled. When Laur arrived home from a hike, I said, “Well, what do you think?!” His response was to give me the “fish-eye” (blank stare) and say “…sí (c.)…”
There are two things you can guarantee will happen in a small community of hearing impaired-people. 1. Rumours will fly, and 2. they won’t necessarily be accurate. I truly don’t mind living in a fishbowl – heck my day to day life is public on facebook, if anyone is interested. (My mom is interested. That’s kinda nice.)
Here is a cute example. I was out jog-walking the park the other day and a lad, sitting on his porch, said to me, “Have you got a minute for a funny story?” Always! Mark (not his real name) told me, he was talking on the phone to his wife Mindy (not her real name) and she said to him, “Did you hear? You know that nice lady who runs the park? And makes a lot of noise when she gets into the pool? She’s gone bl..nd..” At that very point she had to get off the phone.
What Mark heard was that I, Jan, had gone blind. I wave to him pretty much every morning when I “run” the park, and he had been away when we arrived. He felt devastated for me. He told me, he was sitting there saying, “That poor nice lady. What is she going to do? She used to have so much fun – and now she won’t be able to do much of anything.” By anything he meant the only thing he has ever seen me do – jog – or heard me do – scream when I get into the pool. (I’m a wimp.)
When his wife came home, he told her how sad he felt for that poor woman who used to run the park. Why did that have to happen to her?! Mindy asked, “What happened to Jan!?” Mark replied, “You told me – she’s gone blind.” Mindy responded “(insert adjective and noun here) – Jan hasn’t gone blind. She’s gone BLONDE! “Oh!” Mark responded, and then had to think for a moment if I would still be able to run the park and shriek into the pool.
*****
Have I gone blonde? Yes, but not intentionally. It’s true, I do get my hair dyed. I have for years, but mostly a chocolate brown. Enter swimming (or whatever is it I do in the pool) for a half year in highly chlorinated water – without a swimming cap. My hair kept getting lighter. My hairstylist would match my hair dye to my current colour and – trad da – I’m now blonde. I don’t feel blonde – not that I know how that is supposed to feel – but I am.
So, the question you might be asking yourself is, “Do gentlemen truly prefer blondes?” Well, the only gentleman in my life has been there for forty years, plus two years of courting. If you asked Laur what he’d prefer, this is what he’d like say. “I prefer:
a. That my meals be on time. (To his credit – he makes two of them, and does dishes for all three of them.)
b. That we don’t have to move again anytime soon. We have moved three times in just over and year.
c. That I don’t have to notice if you’ve got your hair done. Or anything done…”
Tis true. This afternoon I got my hair cut and styled. When Laur arrived home from a hike, I said, “Well, what do you think?!” His response was to give me the “fish-eye” (blank stare) and say “…sí (c.)…”