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Friday, 01 September 2006 |
Blonde on the Prairie?
By Jodi Rae Ingstad
My mother heard it from teacher after teacher. If she didn?t hear it, she read it on my report cards. ?Jodi Rae is a good communicator. She is very verbal,? the teachers wrote.
My way of dealing with adversity was to read. In the past I told you that my dear friend Shirley and I used to talk on the phone, reciting words and definitions from the dictionary to each other. It was a peculiar thing for girls our age to be doing but we both know a lot of big words today because of it. That and we?re both very verbal.
I should rent myself out on blind dates. With me around, there would never be a lull in the conversation. Not because I?m some smarty pants. It?s just that I can?t stand too much silence between potential lovers. Silence is extraordinarily uncomfortable when you?re on a blind date.
I?ll tell you what else is uncomfortable. It?s so uncomfortable that it steals the verbal prowess right out of me. It stirred me up so much that it has me biting away at the inside of my cheeks. A week of cheek chewing can get rather painful.
I walked into the post office to get my mail. A man was standing at the table sorting through his mail. When I walked in he lifted his head to greet me. Problem was nothing came out of his mouth. Instead he lifted his head and winked at me.
My dad used to work with wood in our garage. He had this big vice grip attached to his work table. My overly communicative, verbal mouth suddenly felt not only gripped shut but also tightly bolted. How was I supposed to respond to the man?s wink? And what did his wink mean?
I forced a reaction by simply smiling and giving him my signature head nod. I retrieved my own mail and went back into my truck in full blown wonderment. I?ve been wondering ever since.
I think the wink confused me because it came from a man and I am a woman. There is definitely a grey area in the rules of winking when the winking is done by the opposite sex. It certainly could have just been a friendly ?Hello, how are you today? kind of wink. But then again, it could have been an ?OOOhhh la la? kind of wink! His wink made me feel violated so I?m going with the ?OOOhhh la la? theory. Feeling like I had just sinned for catching the man?s wink, I went home to tattle on myself. That sparked a verbal dissertation between that husband of mine and me. The topic: ?What a wink means.?
Thanksgiving was sure to find us around our old, oak dining table. My grandpa, Walter Kranz, would always arrive at our home with candy bars in tow and a deck of cards for rummy. Upon sitting at the table to eat our feast of thanks, I remember, and have for a lifetime, a wink from Grandpa?s eye. Grandpa?s wink was nothing like the wink from the man in the post office. Grandpa winked as I reached for the mashed potatoes. His wink made his eye sparkle like when I used to shine the flashlight in my little brother?s eyes. The difference was the spirit behind the eye. Grandpa?s wink was filled with an un-verbal love, a grandpa?s heart, a grandpa?s pride and acceptance galore. While I?m typing this, I?m remembering my grandpa?s sparkling wink. The simple act of remembering is sparking a feeling of joy and safety inside of me.
As long as winks have no hidden agendas, they feel better than a hot, bubbly bath. I wallow endlessly in my bath because it warms me and comforts me. I?m going to wallow in the memory of my grandpa?s wink. Wink wallowing is a lovely way to spend a day remembering.
Jodi Rae Ingstad
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Last Updated ( Monday, 04 December 2006 )
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