What That

Issue 60

June 24

no vacancies, the sign to my brain reads. full capacity.

at some point during the big quarantine, a phrase entered the global lexicon, or at least my awareness of the global lexicon.

"living rent-free in my head"

---

In June of 2000, I was eight years old. Aardman studios released their stop motion animation CHICKEN RUN, in which a suave, Amercian chicken Mel Gibson deceitfully convinces proper British hens destined for pot pies that he can fly and can teach them how: their ticket out from their minced fate.

Eight-year-olds are annoying. Movies made for children lean towards grinding and irritating. Together, we were insufferable.

At some point in the film, two salesman rats(mice?) show up with a menagerie of goods for purchase, overwhelming the hens in their salesmen-y way. One produces a shuttlecock and declares "for parties for weddings!" shoving the birdie on the head of the other, removing it, rotating it, and shoving it down once more. The badminton ball looks like a crown, then a veil -- pure genius. Their comedic slapstick even warranted a spot in the movie trailer, if my memory serves me correctly.

Little K loved this. Little K latched on to this. For the foreseeable future, eight-year-old and probably nine-year-old K found this bit to be the choicest with their father, any one nearby wearing a hat. Others found this bit to be less entertaining, but 8-year-old K was very cute so this was okay.

34-year-old K thinks of this sometime, when they can't quite remember how to write SQL or when they cannot come up with viable conversation topics. For parties, for weddings, and for no other times. Few parties, even fewer weddings.

All they can do is sigh. They may be the property owner, but they are not the landlord. They cannot evict this useless memory. It lives rent-free in their head.

K Higa Lame online, lame IRL.

600 1st Ave, Ste 330 PMB 92768, Seattle, WA 98104-2246
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