642 Tiny Things To Write About: I Appear Missing

You wake up one morning to find your face plastered all over town on a “Missing” poster.  

Who posted the signs? Where were you last seen? What were you wearing?

Cue very obvious Queens of the Stone Age song (and yes, I will use any excuse to promote the Rock God that is Josh Homme…)

There is no doubt in my mind that if I was ever to go missing, the person that would immediately start plastering posters about town and organizing search parties, would be my husband.  We’re a puzzle piece kind of marriage, we run our home and assorted duties and relationship, like two distinct pieces that each bring something completely different to the game of life, that as a whole, works extremely well and creates a life long love where it is impossible to imagine the other one not being there.   If one of us would suddenly disappear, it would be like if we lost a significant part of ourselves.   While being a wonderfully nice extroverted sort of person that people are naturally drawn to, he’s also persistent, like my Southern aunt used to say, as a tick on a hound dog.  So he’d be the person you see on T.V dramas, pestering law enforcement on a daily basis and demanding justice until I was delivered safely home.   And the T.V. audience would root for him at every step of the way.

Where I was last seen?  I like to haunt bookstores and record stores that have vinyl.  Before the owner retired and closed the place, I spent many lunch hours at a used record / bookstore in downtown Santa Cruz.   I love these type of places; it offers not only the opportunity to purchase records and books, but imagine the people who owned them previously.   (My dream job as a teen was to work in a record store and talk about music with my co-workers, but in a much less condescending manner than Barry Judd in High Fidelity.) Maybe I was snatched by someone whose relative inadvertently sold their beloved copy of Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew, which I purchased soon after, and now they’re holding me ransom until its returned?

What was I wearing? My outside work outfit is usually a pair of sneakers, dark wash or black skinny jeans and a rock T-shirt.  Basically, Joey Ramone’s older sister with short grey hair.   If it was colder, a pea coat and a skull scarf.   However, my most notable feature is probably the multiple ear piercings and lots of tattoos.  (How many you ask?  Lots.  I’ve kind of lost count. See I have this good friend who is a tattoo artist who gives me great prices and…)

So while it would make a really poor “Woman in Peril” movie on Lifetime TV (except for my extroverted, likable but vigilant husband) that’s the story of me as a missing person.




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