"People suck."
My neighbor put it just that succinctly when I informed her that some upstanding citizen had pilfered my plant from the porch. I first noticed it last night when I took the dogs out for their final pee.
It was just a philodendron that had grown spindly and near death over the winter, so I’d put it on the porch this spring in hopes of stimulating it back to life. In the past, I and a neighbor have had plants stolen, so this time I disguised my little plant and made it appear to be in this larger, heavier, clay pot. In actuality, all you had to do was lift it from the huge pot and dash … but I’d weighted it with two bricks and covered the bricks with red-cedar mulch. Then I surrounded the planter with other smaller pots containing various herbs. Yes, I like to grow herbs, so what. You haven’t cooked until you've used freshly grown herbs ... but I digress.
All spring and summer my ruse worked, and the little philodendron grew strong, lush and attractive due to the tropical weather we’ve had. Apparently … too attractive. Now I’ve got an empty clay pot on the porch, with a brick next to it and bits of red cedar trailing down the stairs. I think I know who did it too. We’ve got this derelict-looking character pushing a supermarket cart around downtown Jersey City with various odds and ends that he tries to sell. Sometimes he has plants. I’m sure my little philodendron is making the rounds as we speak.
But I'm tired of being a victim. I decided to walk around and find his dusty ass … and then I’d proceed to kick it and take my plant back. He’d stolen one plant too many. But first I wanted to check my email. In my inbox was an open letter to George Bush from one of my favorite white people, Michael Moore.
It was just a philodendron that had grown spindly and near death over the winter, so I’d put it on the porch this spring in hopes of stimulating it back to life. In the past, I and a neighbor have had plants stolen, so this time I disguised my little plant and made it appear to be in this larger, heavier, clay pot. In actuality, all you had to do was lift it from the huge pot and dash … but I’d weighted it with two bricks and covered the bricks with red-cedar mulch. Then I surrounded the planter with other smaller pots containing various herbs. Yes, I like to grow herbs, so what. You haven’t cooked until you've used freshly grown herbs ... but I digress.
All spring and summer my ruse worked, and the little philodendron grew strong, lush and attractive due to the tropical weather we’ve had. Apparently … too attractive. Now I’ve got an empty clay pot on the porch, with a brick next to it and bits of red cedar trailing down the stairs. I think I know who did it too. We’ve got this derelict-looking character pushing a supermarket cart around downtown Jersey City with various odds and ends that he tries to sell. Sometimes he has plants. I’m sure my little philodendron is making the rounds as we speak.
But I'm tired of being a victim. I decided to walk around and find his dusty ass … and then I’d proceed to kick it and take my plant back. He’d stolen one plant too many. But first I wanted to check my email. In my inbox was an open letter to George Bush from one of my favorite white people, Michael Moore.
You gotta love Michael Moore. He’s a hoot … and the only red-neck-looking muthafuka who I’d actually campaign for … if he ran for President. Seriously, I’d hand out flyers, knock on doors, make calls, the whole magilla. Anyway, I went to Michael Moore.com to express my homage, and I found a place to offer room and board to survivors of Katrina. Hmmm …. Long story short, I don’t have an extra bedroom, but I do have a sofa. So I’m now officially on the list if any single person (who can get here) needs it for the next few months. A warm feeling came over me. I wasn’t just giving lip-service, I was actually doing what little I could. Then I told my boy, J, what I’d just done. He looked completely stricken at the thought of some sweaty stranger occupying our sofa for the duration, but he soon came around after only a few chest compressions and an artificial breath or two. If everyone in this country opened their homes to at least one survivor, the tragedy would at least have a pleasant ending, and remind us all that people don't always suck. Go to Michael Moore.com and read his letter to the president, and by all means, open you heart and home to people left with nothing. Suddenly I don’t care so much about my philodendron, I just hope he puts it to good use. Thanks TJ from San Juan for sending me that Michael Moore letter … and you saved one dusty delelict a good ol'-fashioned ass-whuppin’.Dear Mr. Bush: Any idea where all our helicopters are? It's Day 5 of Hurricane Katrina and thousands remain stranded in New Orleans and need to be airlifted. Where on earth could you have misplaced all our military choppers? Do you need help finding them? I once lost my car in a Sears parking lot. Man, was that a drag ….
1 comment:
Wow. That's pretty cool that you're opening up your home like that. Any takers?
Sorry to hear about your plant. In my old neighborhood, it was the same thing. Except they stole the ceramic planters that we had in front of the house. It's sad. You just can't have anything without people trying to steal it from you.
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