Friday, November 21, 2008
Life after Death, Goldfish . . . (Listen)
I knew this woman. She was from Germany. When she was a kid she had a dog. She called the dog “Floppie.” I think there was an umlaut over one of the vowels. She loved the dog. He was really special. She told me that one day Floppie got into a fight with another dog and died a day or so later. He didn’t die from wounds, though. No, he died from shame. Yes, shame. In great detail she explained that after their epic battle Floppie went into their family’s barn and died because he was unable to defend his honor, his territory. Over the years I’ve thought often about Floppie. I imagine that he wore a monocle, read Goethe and Schiller late into the night, cursed modernity. I saw Floppie gazing over his estate near the Black Forest seeing his happy peasants work the fields and thinking that life was good. And then he died of shame.
I’m telling you this story because I didn’t really take the whole death-by-shame thing seriously until last week when one of our goldfish died. His name was “Spiderman.” Actually, he was first called “Dookie” by our little boy, and it was only months later that we learned that the word “dookie” has a bathroom connotation. But he’ll always be Dookie to me. Anyway, Dookie was a mighty goldfish. He swam and ate and did the usual stuff that normal goldfish do. But I knew that he was special. I also knew he wasn’t all that well because he would sometimes swim to the side of the fish bowl and just lay there, hardly moving at all, just resting, taking in the world.
Last week we went to New York City for a brief vacation. I put some goldfish food into the bowl before we left. While in New York we ate in French bistros, oyster bars, Vietnamese restaurants, Korean BBQ. We saw amazing art. We met up with old friends, drank good coffee, rode in cabs, took the subway. We walked the streets and didn’t give a second thought to Dookie. And it is because we didn’t think about him and his needs that he died a lonely goldfish death in South Bend, Indiana. He punished us for being carefree and urban. He punished us for abandoning our Hoosier heritage for a long weekend in the Big Apple. Oh Dookie Dookie Dookie....how could you do this to me? If I could, I would give my life for yours in a heartbeat. I curse the moon and the stars that you are no longer here. Your death reminds me of what J. Robert Oppenheimer said after witnessing the world’s first nuclear explosion: “I am become death, shatterer of worlds.” Since coming back to Indiana I find it hard to go on. Who cares about politics or that our state went for Obama? There is no more Dookie in our lives. He died for our sins.
It’s now been a week since Dookie has gone onto that great goldfish bowl in the sky. And like Floppie I’ve gotten to thinking a bit more about his interior life. Unlike that German dog, our American goldfish was a liberal through and through. He loved to recycle, only drove in Hybrids, was an early supporter of Obama. He found a certain calmness in gardening and eating organic foods. Believed the United Nations was a positive good in the world, that there was too much violence but not enough sex on TV. In the calm of his circular water world, he floated, he observed, he admired.
Since his death I can only cry me a river. Seeking solace I spoke to the wisest man I know, Lee Burdorf. His advice was simple and direct: go to Vegas. Such a wise man, such a mighty goldfish.
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A random pick from more than 460 Michiana Chronicles -- refresh the browser to see another set:
April Lidinsky -- More essays by April
Joe Chaney -- More essays by Joe
Ken Smith -- More essays by Ken
Jeanette Saddler Taylor -- More essays by Jeanette
Heather Curlee Novak -- More essays by Heather
David James -- More essays by David
Elizabeth Van Jacob -- More essays by Elizabeth
Jeff Nixa -- More essays by Jeff
Louise Collins -- More essays by Louise
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About the series
Michiana Chronicles is a series of radio essays by Jonathan Nashel, Louise Collins, Joe Chaney, Jeanette Saddler Taylor, Jeff Nixa, April Lidinsky, Ken Smith, Heather Curlee Novak, David James, and Elizabeth Van Jacob.
Michiana is the region of north-central Indiana and southern Michigan roughly centered on South Bend, Indiana.
Michiana Chronicles airs on Fridays at 7:35 a.m. and 12:30 p.m. on WVPE (88.1 FM), the home of public radio in Elkhart / South Bend, Indiana.
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