{"id":12143,"date":"2015-07-31T12:45:12","date_gmt":"2015-07-31T18:45:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/?p=12143"},"modified":"2015-08-01T10:44:08","modified_gmt":"2015-08-01T16:44:08","slug":"the-good-life","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/archives\/12143","title":{"rendered":"The Good Life"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>At times, I would like a manual.<br \/>\nA pre-war woodshop textbook. Instructions<br \/>\nin Esperanto for how to assemble<br \/>\nthe clearance furniture, the horrible pink table<br \/>\nand chairs, that winter the only set we could afford.<br \/>\nBy <em>at times<\/em> I meant <em>always<\/em>. At times,<br \/>\nI would like to save a gorgeous soloist choking<br \/>\non her sirloin at the platform table. I would like<br \/>\nmy overnight train to evaporate in a forest<br \/>\nof fog and pines. Wasn&#8217;t there something shiny<br \/>\nand small we buried there and forgot? A number<br \/>\non a napkin to call when things got bad?<br \/>\nThe dining room would erupt in cheers,<br \/>\nbut being noble never suited anyone.<br \/>\nRemember our elation at the balloon animals?<br \/>\nGreen mouse, turquoise giraffe, how they seemed<br \/>\nlike a kind of magic, blown-up and spun<br \/>\nout of air, which later we learned was a mostly<br \/>\ninvisible kind of emptiness. By <em>suited<\/em><br \/>\nI meant <em>saved<\/em>. Outside, it&#8217;s raining again<br \/>\nand inside I&#8217;m talking to you about the weather<br \/>\nagain, like new neighbors stuck in an elevator,<br \/>\nor the old couple, married for fifty years<br \/>\nthis October, together so long they&#8217;ve forgotten<br \/>\nhow to not read one another&#8217;s minds.<br \/>\nI would like to get my hands on whatever manual<br \/>\nthey used. There is a time for smelling the roses,<br \/>\nand it is not as often as you think. The fly needs help<br \/>\nunsticking from the web, so too the limbo-d<br \/>\nmosquito preserved in a chunk of amber.<br \/>\nI would like to pretend I don&#8217;t know<br \/>\nwhat&#8217;s going to happen to us when we disappear.<br \/>\nI know I used to drive through my neighborhood<br \/>\nafter dark with a girl who was always fiddling<br \/>\nwith the radio dial and talking about the weather,<br \/>\nthe streamer clouds overhead backlit by the moon.<br \/>\nIt may or may not be helpful to return.<br \/>\nDriving down the quiet street where you grew up,<br \/>\nthe tiny homes, their orange rectangles of light.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/archives\/12077\"><\/p>\n<h6>Matt Morton<\/h6>\n<p><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>At times, I would like a manual. A pre-war woodshop textbook. Instructions in Esperanto for how to assemble the clearance furniture, the horrible pink table and chairs, that winter the only set we could afford. By at times I meant always. At times, I would like to save a gorgeous soloist choking on her sirloin [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":354,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false},"categories":[44],"tags":[25],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Jypy-39R","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12143"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/354"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12143"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12143\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12387,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12143\/revisions\/12387"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12143"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12143"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12143"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}