Minus the ear and the nose, for the moment, let’s confine our examination to throats. Yes, those throats; tongue, tonsil, thorax, esophagus, and points south that are even more difficult to spell.Although a non-believer in horoscopes, astrology, reiki, tai-chi, chai-tea, homeopathy, naturopathy and the Shining Path, several weeks ago I had a rare “twilight zone” moment.
Pictured below, the preamble;
The Kar-Mi, Limit of the Marvelous
The background: Arriving in Tucson at the home of a prominent magazine editor, I was introduced to a house guest, Alex Kensington. An amiable fellow and Airstream dweller, he revealed that in his professional life he was a sword swallower. His female companion, Charon, in addition to sword swallowing, is an accomplished tattoo artist as well, and both can be seen at their website practicing their crafts.
Interesting, I thought briefly, then the editor and I headed north to Scottsdale for three days of classic and antique cars, auctions, elbowing people with too much money to spend. Though fun, enlightening, and good ‘guy’ time, neither of us considered the experience blog-worthy.
Fast forward a week later, in scenic, remote Patagonia, AZ, our home for winters. While walking my dog, Jack, down a quiet side street, Pennsylvania Avenue, we approach the home of a good friend and fellow library volunteer, Janet Winans. A published poet of considerable skill, Janet has, parked in her driveway, a sixteen foot Casita that I had not seen before.
A handsome young man exits the house and approaches the fiberglass womb, as Jack and I stroll by and wish him ‘good morning’. He interrupts his duties to come over and introduce himself and explain that the Casita belongs to him, he is visiting Mrs. Winans, his mother-in-law, and is traveling through en route to the Tucson Renaissance Faire. His real name is Geoffrey Cobb.
And if you haven’t guessed by now, as a performance artist, Thom Sellectomy, world traveler, sword swallower, and comedian.
Who, among other acts, utilizes a small sledgehammer to drive a railroad spike into his nasal septum.
Well, I was amused. Not so much by the insanity of these two ‘normal’ guys, but by the unlikelihood that I would encounter not one, but two parallel carnies within totally unrelated environments inside one week.
Really, what are the odds ?
Rod Serling, are you listening ? I can hear, faintly, that aggravating twilight zone theme ringing in my ears. Dee, de, de, de, de, de, dee….dee, de, de
Recognizing an omen when I hear it, I’m headed to the closest Seven-Eleven C-Store to buy a lottery ticket.
And some Chloraseptic lozenges for my ‘sword’ throat.