Bennett Indignant
This is post 4 of Section I. To begin at the beginning, go here.
She caught him halfway up the stairs (and already puffing, he noticed, with irritation). Surrounded by the fawning Wagnerian canines, she fixed him with her look of resigned exasperation. “Ed, aren’t you dressed? We’ll be late, and you know Robert prepares the food so carefully. Let’s not spoil tonight for him.”
“Oh, by no means,” Bennett said, trying not to sound sardonic. Mustn’t be inconsiderate. Mustn’t ask why eons of faculty meetings endured, eternities of inane student babble constructively criticized, reams of rejections and damning-with-faint-praise reviews—mustn’t ask why his career, in short, should be recompensed in its twilight with a vegetarian dinner (a contradiction in terms if there ever was one). Mustn’t wonder how all the reading aloud, the exhausting foreign travel, the expensive lessons (including four years at Oberlin Conservatory) had induced the distasteful abnormality of his son. Must be tolerant—no, that wasn’t enough anymore. Must BGLAD (Bi-Gay-Lesbian Awareness Day). Even GLAAD (Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation)! Must wave the PFLAG (Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays). Must relish their subliterate acronyms along with their under seasoned black bean soup, for Christ’s sake.
He was puffing again at the top of the stairs—with indignation, he hoped.
Continue
She caught him halfway up the stairs (and already puffing, he noticed, with irritation). Surrounded by the fawning Wagnerian canines, she fixed him with her look of resigned exasperation. “Ed, aren’t you dressed? We’ll be late, and you know Robert prepares the food so carefully. Let’s not spoil tonight for him.”
“Oh, by no means,” Bennett said, trying not to sound sardonic. Mustn’t be inconsiderate. Mustn’t ask why eons of faculty meetings endured, eternities of inane student babble constructively criticized, reams of rejections and damning-with-faint-praise reviews—mustn’t ask why his career, in short, should be recompensed in its twilight with a vegetarian dinner (a contradiction in terms if there ever was one). Mustn’t wonder how all the reading aloud, the exhausting foreign travel, the expensive lessons (including four years at Oberlin Conservatory) had induced the distasteful abnormality of his son. Must be tolerant—no, that wasn’t enough anymore. Must BGLAD (Bi-Gay-Lesbian Awareness Day). Even GLAAD (Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation)! Must wave the PFLAG (Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays). Must relish their subliterate acronyms along with their under seasoned black bean soup, for Christ’s sake.
He was puffing again at the top of the stairs—with indignation, he hoped.
Continue
posted by Hobbes at 7:43 PM
5 Comments:
He seems to have inner conflicts between how he feels and what he perceives out there. But maybe his perceptions are are skewed as his ideations.
That guy is no hero. He is silly. And stupid. Now, Mr. Banana is a hero. Like a knight in shining armor. And he is such a good lover! He should be the hero of the story!!!!!!
Thanks, Dog Face, but I'm not real interested in stories about sissy-boys.
He's woefully out of shape. A healthy vegetarian dinner might do him some good.
I agree that vegetarian dinner is an oxymoron.
I don't understand the questions, though. It's obviously the clarinet.
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