Either-Or Ames

Wendell Ames, I should say, “Professor” Wendell Ames, always spoke softly.  Not that he was a real professor, merely that he acted like one.  Perhaps I should say that was my interpretation, and just let it go at that.  It will become clear as I relate this story.

Anyway, he and his wife moved in last year right across the hall from me. Unfortunately, he soon lost his wife, and befriended me (or was it the other way around?), and I would take him to the store (he did not drive), and he would visit me often.  Slight of stature, mid 70’s, thin, gray hair and a fanciful mustache.  O yeah, he had horn-rimmed glasses--he looked a little like and aged John Lennon.

Wendell loved walnuts.  In fact, he always carried some in his pockets.  He would pull one out and spin it on the table, or merely hold it in his hand as if it were some kind of security.  His half-shaven face lit up once he had hold of a walnut.

He seemed to fancy himself a philosopher--I don’t know how much schooling he had, he never said.  O he appeared erudite all right, and would pause for a few seconds before speaking.  But when he began speaking, Katy bar the door! 

I shall not forget his discourse one evening on reason and emotion.  We sat at my kitchen table; how this subject came up, I remain unsure.  Nevertheless it did, and Wendell likened reason and emotion to a jackal and a dove separated by balsa wood and two layers of Saran Wrap.  He told me they are forced into an, “uneasy truce,” within our skulls, each wanting to wear the best clothes.

I got caught up in the spirit of metaphor, and so I added, “Emotion snaps its finger and runs to the door; reason uses the telephone.”

“Right you are,” Wendell whispered, then he began:

“One impresses while the other impugns; one involves while the other indicts; one packs a lunch while the other goes hungry; one checks in while the other rejects; one learns daily while the other one nods; one is balance while the other one fails; one diverges while the other connects; one shuts off while the other finds life; one takes notice while the other ignores; one scales a mountain while the other one sleeps; one expands while the other contracts.” 

My eyes widened and I had straightened up in my chair.  I had my mini tape recorder going, which was fortunate.  Wendell continued:

“One extols while the other one pans; one is partial while the other is total; one chops wood while the other leaves town; one flies straight while the other one veers; one blends juice while the other drips oil; one upholds while the other one breaks; one consoles while the other one teases; one attempts while the other one flees; one invests while the other one shrugs; one brews coffee while the other one whines; one assuages while the other fans flames; one is quirk while the other is quest.”

He continued on with a few more comparisons, but at this point the tape reached its end, and I was too spellbound to flip it around in the recorder to record any more.  Anyway, once Wendell finished, he gazed contently up at my cracked ceiling, tossed me a walnut, rose from his chair and did a little dance, a twinkle in his eye and a glow on his half-shaven face.

Wendell Ames was a peculiar man.


590 Words
Writer’s Cramp
March 19, 2014