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Melfa's Musings
A.M Melfa |
Chaka Brah Sedona
It's 1:30 in the afternoon
on a typically cloudy, cold Northern California coast mid-June
afternoon.
I huddle by my computer for
warmth, sporting thick corduroy pants, two layers of long sleeve
shirts and a fleece over jacket made to withstand arctic climates.
Some sun would be nice for more than two days a
month. I had
walking pneumonia my entire first year here and still have not
regained, nor suspect that I ever will regain, full hearing in my right ear.
Mold grows on my window sill, the underside of my mattress and, tragically, on
my cat’s ass. All of this is lamentable but not necessarily the reason I have
chosen to move to Sedona.
Oh no, my friends, you do not know the half of
it. Today I was out of bed, showered and suitably caffeinated by
9:30 a.m. Caffeine is not merely a necessity here but a virtual way of life.
All hail the God of the Bean! Since then I have cleaned my house, done three
loads of laundry, answered my e-mails and started work on my art and writing
projects. At Noon I figured it would be safe to play phone tag with my friends,
but to no avail. It’s now afternoon. Surprise of
surprises, no one else is yet awake
in this grey, apathetic town.
Is my situation beginning to take shape in your minds? My
inner engine revs just a wee bit high for this idyllic community tucked amongst the majesty of the
ancient Redwood forest.If I have to hear just one more person use
“Chaka Brah” in a sentence, smell Patchouli in place of deodorant
just one more time, or listen to just one more conversation touting the
environmental benefits of dread locks, my brain is simply and finally
going to seep out of my chronically clogged ear canals.
Or how about having to school just one
more stoned mother f****r on the proper navigational techniques of a
four way stop sign (Four way stop simulation - don’t try this at
home! “No, you go first. Nah, dude, it’s totally - like - your turn.
Like, that’s okay brah, you first. No? Well why don’t we just -
like - sit together in the middle of the intersection and hit this
fatty spliff, dude? Chaka brah!”).
I
want to live in a place where the preponderant cultivation of
illegal plant life does not preclude legal forms of wage earning. I want to live in a place where people don’t have to
develop gills to breathe air, for the love of all that is good and
holy!
As I drove through Arizona on my way back to
my childhood home on the East Coast this past winter, I had the
strangest sense of being watched. Approaching Flagstaff, the feeling became
particularly pronounced to the point of physical discomfort. I
pulled over, got out of the car, and peered nervously upwards. My internal monologue
pointed out disturbing perceptions such as; “Why do I feel like
there is no ozone layer here between me and the deep dark void?,”
and “ Why do I have the feeling that... God... is watching me?”
Suddenly and without any prior indication as
to the denouement about to ensue - my ears popped
with, if I may say, titanic ferocity! The mixture of pain
and relief was like nothing I’d ever known! My body began
reeling around the road side of its own volition, caroming off
my Mustang towards the shoulder, thankfully. I imagined that I
looked like a whirling dervish in the throes
of a particularly hellish bout of tinnitus. Luckily the bulk of
my car kept me from spiraling off into traffic, potentially
becoming a rather large and messy grease spot on I-40.I dropped to my knees, weeping like the baby
to which the pain had reduced me, clutching the nearest object
available as my sinuses drooled out their long coveted stash of
mucus. After some unknowable period of time the volcanic flow
subsided, as did the tears from my red-shot eyes, enabling me to
see that I was humping a road sign to Sedona for support
throughout my metamorphosis.
I could argue that my mother did not raise
any stupid children. Or it could be I have the yarbles to claim
that I’m pretty sure when God’s trying to tell me something.
Either way, when I looked up towards that terribly exposed sky
once again I experienced an overwhelming flood of well being.
I’d like to say the clouds parted and I heard angelic voices
singing, however the truth of it is the sky was crystal clear
and the ringing in my ears was still so loud as to preclude even
the sound of the highway a mere five feet to my right.
It was then that I knew for sure... God is
watching and God wants me in Arizona. GOD WANTS ME IN SEDONA!
I hope
you are ready, Sedona, because I’m packing it up and I’m on my way. And, in case
you want to steer clear, I shouldn’t be hard to spot. I’ll be the one
casting suspicious accusatory glances at the sky, all the while
holding a hanky beneath my nose - just in case!
A.M. Melfa currently lives in
Northern California and is moving to Sedona, AZ soon.
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