Sifu Abbie Hoffman
The cat Abbie Hoffman is just as concerned as I am about the chaos and absurdities of life. He's with me now on the desktop, sitting on my keyboard, and editing the work as I write. Even at this early hour, before dawn, we're fully dressed, he in his formal attire of white tie and tails, and I in my cargo pajamas. We make a good team and it makes me feel better to know that I'm not the only one who feels that the present circs are too tight for comfort.
We were awakened this morning, like everyone else in the Renaissance District of the SoDu, at 10 minutes past 5:00 by the ubiquitous tornado warning. Like everyone else we rose, gathered up Ms. Wonder and the rest of the furry tribe, and bunged them all into the bathtub for safety. However why the bathtub is something that escapes me. I try to remember the bilge we were taught in school about bathtubs and the only thing I remember is that Archimedes made that discovery, whatever it was, while playing with baking soda in the bath.
We were told he shouted, "Eureka!" and danced around a good bit, flooding the floor and no doubt sending water out into the hallway. And we were supposed to believe that the excitement was caused because he'd discovered the principle of displacement. That's right, displacement. I know! Bathtubs were invented in ancient Egypt several BC's before Archie and we're supposed to believe that no one noticed displacement in all that time? Get real.
But let's get back to the present. What the national weather service picked up on radar was not a tornado but a wind vortex created by the Witch of Woodcroft to suck the sick spiritual energies from the environment and transform them into something good for society. No wonder the NWS is confused. The Witch of W. means well--she does, I don't deny it. But, well, her work sometimes results in unintended results.
Abbie Hoffman and I are working hard to put everything back in balance. As I sat back to admire my work, I noticed that he was staring out the window. Dawn is peeking timidly over the edge of the world in the far distance. No doubt she's unsure of what to expect from the weather, it being one of the dark and loud species of weather this morning. Apparently, Dawn puts little credence in the promise that "Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning." If she intends to continue in the role of Dawn, she's going to need some bucking up. We can't have the Sun without an appearance from Dawn to introduce him.
Abbie makes a little noise deep in his throat and I wonder if he shares some of my resentment toward the Sun for being absent when he's needed most. A fair-weather friend, the Sun, in my opinion. I'm happy to have that howler of a storm out of the way but I'm not sure that I'm ready to welcome the sun with open arms just yet. I forgive, really I do, but I don't do it quickly. Dawn and the other half of the sketch, the Sun need to get their act together is my opinion. I suppose Abbie and I share this opinion.
The light suddenly became brighter in my office and Abbie jumped from the desktop to the chair near the window. He huddled down, making himself as small as possible in the way that cats do, and he peeked over the window sill. Sunlight was slowly working its way across the fields and woodlands from the east. The sun was smiling in that smug, self-satisfied way it has at the beginning of the day. It eased itself up the drive and began climbing the wall. Inch by inch, the light moved closer to my office window. At last it peered inside, still smiling, and softly entered the room.
It was exactly the Bruce Lee moment that Abbie was waiting for.
Abbie Hoffman, having recently been certified as a master of Taiji ch'uan, executed a beautiful single whip, if it was a single whip, and the Sun lay cowering on the floor while dawn fell backward onto the grass in front of the garage. Abbie looked down on her with lazy eyelids as though it were normal to see the dawn spread-eagled on the lawn. He turned an inquiring gaze toward me and I returned a look to say that I understood completely. It couldn't be helped. It was a thing that needed doing and he, with his impeccable credentials, was the man to do it.
While I was congratulating him on a job well done, I became aware that his attention was arrested, if that's the word, by a shimming light that illumined the center of the room. Abbie Hoffman was staring into that light with wild surmise--much like the one worn by stout Cortez and his men when they first glanced at the Pacific.
"Well," I said to the specter, "we know you're here. You might as well show yourself."
And with those words, a large face materialized in the center of the room. The features shimmered and glittered in the morning light. When he recognized who I was, he smiled sending little sparkles flashing around the room like tiny fireworks."
"I apologize for the intrusion," said the Sun.
"No need," I said, "it's not your fault nor ours. I credit all this ranygazoo to the Witch of Woodcroft."
Abbie concurred, or he mumbled something that seemed to indicate agreement with my assessment. He rarely disagrees with me. We march in lockstep most days.
"She's off the wagon again!" said the Sun. "I thought 30 days in rehab..."
"I think it will require something stronger than a 12-step program," I said. "But Abbie Hoffman and I have an idea and now that you're here, we no longer need to let 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would'."
"Who's Abbie Hoffman?" he said.
"The cat in the adage," I said nodding toward Abbie.
"Oh," said the Sun, but not with any real conviction. "Well, I suppose I should get back into the heavens. Lots of people expecting it."
"I think it will require something stronger than a 12-step program," I said. "But Abbie Hoffman and I have an idea and now that you're here, we no longer need to let 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would'."
"Who's Abbie Hoffman?" he said.
"The cat in the adage," I said nodding toward Abbie.
"Oh," said the Sun, but not with any real conviction. "Well, I suppose I should get back into the heavens. Lots of people expecting it."
"I suppose so," I said, "although I don't know why. So many millennia without missing a day. I'd think that the odds are in favor of taking a day off."