The Accidental Murder Of A Struggling Fig Tree

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It crossed my mind this morning that it's possible that I could forget how to write with pen and paper. Except for my old habit of filling in crossword puzzles with an ink pen or perhaps filling out some government form or writing my monthly checks to pay my bills, I write everything using a computer keyboard and use no ink at all. I guess that lowers my personal carbon foot print upon the world.

Being green, as in trying to be more aware of ecology is easy for me. That's all taken care of by poverty and greed. Misers don't have to remember to make a special effort to turn the lights off that aren't being used. Carelessly doing that would bring shame.

I do contribute directly to smoking up the environment by burning stuff. Yesterday I had raked some grass up from my lawn being mowed and sprinkled it over some weeds I wanted to kill and lit it. A medium-sized flame that didn't threaten to get out of control kept on burning after the primary target was consumed.

The fire didn't burn any further back into the woods than where the sunlight could reach during the day. The ground cover in the woods hadn't dried out from the last rain shower that happened a couple of days ago. The top layer of the ground cover further back in the woods looked fairly dry. Underneath the top layer it was still too damp without direct sunlight.

There wasn't any threat of the fire getting out of control. It was only burning back in the woods just so far at best, so I let the fire creep along the edge of the woods and out a little ways onto my lawn. It removed the debris that gathers there like lawn mower clippings and leaves the wind blows there.

It's the same mistake I've made a lot in my life. I thought things were cool with the fire. I had a garden hose laid out on the lawn nearby in case a sudden breeze popped up and drove the fire further back than expected. With the intent of not staying long I went into my house to check on some scallions and tomato stuff I had simmering.

When I came back outside a couple of minutes later the fire had acted just like I'd thought it would. It was still a controlled burn. What I didn't think of was the little fig bush that had struggled back to life for three summers without really putting up some healthy branches. It had three fine looking leaves on it, and I thought that with a little TLC it might eventually flourish. It burnt to a crisp because of my thoughtlessness.

If there ever was a ti-me in my life that I catered to the needs of other people it couldn't have lasted long. I don't mean to appear cold-hearted or mean spirited in regard to the other. That's why I went to acting school. When I am feeling indifferent it's hard to hide that from other people.

People in my immediate environment are just dead to me in regard to meaningful conversation. I got other fish to fry that takes all my attention. I foolishly expected people to understand I needed to turn inward when I was younger. Not as callously as then. I still turn inward to a calling as if anyone in my presence weren't there, but I try to act like I got some couth about it.

It's really no different than someone answering a cell phone while we're having an interesting conversation, and ignoring me completely to talk animatedly to some other person as if I didn't exist. They expect me to understand that it is nothing personal. Eventually, they hang up, then turn to me and say, "Now, what were we saying... ?"

Too bad there weren't any cell phones to blame it on when I used to run around the country talking to my angels in pretty much the same manner without a pretense that there was somebody actually there. When I committed myself to the insane asylum to find out what crazy is I met this young black dude who was picked up at the bus station for talking to a pack of cigarettes.

I met him in the reception building when they sorted out the incoming. It took about two weeks to get the paperwork done before they sent us out to the building that housed patients from the same counties together. The most interesting nuts I met was in the reception building.

This man told me that he was riding on the Greyhound bus from somewhere in New York on his way to Florida. The bus stopped for a break in a nearby town in North Carolina for fifteen minutes. He said he got off the bus to stretch his legs and smoke a cigarette.

When he passed a trash can outside the bus station, he said a voice told him to throw the pack of cigarettes into the trash can and stop smoking. Automatically, without really thinking about it, he did what he was told. When he looked around for the person who had told him to throw the cigarettes away there was nobody around.

He figured somebody had played a trick on him, and so he went over to the trash can to get his pack of cigarettes back. He said the pack of cigarettes must have dropped behind some other trash, and he was muttering and admonishing himself about what a fool he was for letting somebody trick him.

About that time a cop approached, and asked him what he was doing picking through the trash can. He confidently explained what happened and why he was looking for his cigarettes, and the cop arrested him for being nuts and took him to jail.

When he tried to explain what happened to the judge at his arraignment, the judge ordered a psychiatric exam, and they put him in the state hospital for that exam to happen. There weren't any psychiatrists there to interview him. I never had an interview with one there myself. It's just a place to lock people up and keep them off the street rather than sending them to prison. They're being closed now. No blame.

I don't know if he ever got to Florida. I could leave anytime I wanted because I had committed myself, and when I did leave after a month, he was still there. If he'd had a cell phone back then, he'd never been locked up.
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