One time she asked me in a hostile voice: what did you expect was going to happen?
It was rhetorical and stunning like a conversational taser. I had no counter, no retort.
My behaviors and their followup consequences weren’t relevant when we started talking. Emotionally blinded and tunneling with rage on the pain she’d dealt me and not the pain I’d dealt her. Hers was the most recent and according to my Truxion Manual the last person to hurt somebody is what you talk about.
Sitting where I am now years later I don’t blame her. For a good many things. Looking back I now expect her to act just like she did.
They’d infested the top half of my young cherry willow tree before I’d even noticed. They’re the worst insect I’ve ever encountered. They never end.
Several squirts of dish soap into a water spray bottle I had used on the cats. Shook the hell outta it until it was all suds, and headed to war.
Grabbed a ladder and thoroughly soaked them all. Each branch, each leaf, each beetle and every beetle. At 9:30pm at night. With only a street lamp to guide me.
Afterward I picked a leaf that was covered and brought it inside to see how my chemical warfare had played out.
It’s fair to say that without George A. Romero, I would not have the career I have now. A lot of people owe George a huge debt of gratitude for the inspiration. I am just one of many.
…
For just his very surname, ‘Romero’, immediately conjures more images and themes than 99 percent of writer/directors out there. I look forward to whenever they do lay down the star in his honour, but he is already is a bright shining beacon in the film universe.
R.I.P. to the lovely George. Knowing your movies, I have a feeling you will be back.
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