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11.02.01
There's enough leftover Hallowe'en candy floating around the office to keep many, many dentists in yachts for many, many years to come. There is that long stretch in the springtime between Easter and Memorial Day when nothing exciting ever happens at all, yet November and December are insane sugar months, crazy with sweets and food-related activity. If I were in charge, I'd space things out a little better. I had a mini Nutrageous bar for breakfast. I imagine similar breakfasts are being consumed around the country this week. I just asked my friend Henry how his Hallowe'en was.
Uneventful, and that's the way I like it. We had about 5 groups of kiddies
and it was all over by 8 PM. Earlier in the day, the ophthalmologist dilated
one of my eyes and it was still wide open at evening. I was hoping to wig
out some kids with my "freak eye," but apparently eye contact is a missing
element in the fading art of communication.
They were probably transfixed by the candy, but Henry has once again got me thinking. I had a high school English teacher who wrote television scripts for "The Love Boat" in her spare time. "Eyes are windows to the soul," she used to tell us -- a line that showed up in a few Love Boat episodes, as well. Trite and bumper stickery, but true. I've always thought that the reason we are so crazy about dogs as domestic pets is that they have good eye contact. It makes them seem more human than, say, a pet guinea pig.
Eyes are my favorite body part, although I prefer them connected to the rest of the head rather than disembodied. I am most frightened by masks that obscure the eyes. I think this must date back to the first time I saw the pointing, hooded, silent figure of the Ghost of Christmases Yet to Come in a grade school production of A Christmas Carol. I was terrified by the notion that you could have a head without a face.
I am having the same cold-to-the-bone reaction now, every time the news shows shots of the burqas that the Afghani women are forced to wear. They all look like the Ghost of Christmases Yet to Come. I heard an Afghani woman seeking refuge in Pakistan explaining that they were not allowed to lift the hood of the burqa even to eat icecream. It becomes very, very hot in there. The burqas also force the women to breathe in too much carbon dioxide, which can apparently cause birth defects in unborn children.
And me, with my whole entire face unhooded and free, wasting it by looking down at my shoes when somebody talks to me because I am overcome with waves of shyness. When I am talking to people and their eyes wander off, I assume their brains have also wondered off. I'm going to experiment by practicing and noticing good eye contact for the rest of the month. I'll report back later with my findings.
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