Imitation/flattery

Catch Her in the Oatmeal

If you actually want to hear about it, what I'd better do is I'd better warn you right now that you aren't going to believe it. I mean it's a true story and all, but it still sounds sort of phony.

Anyway, my name is Goldie Lox. It's sort of a boring name, but my parents said that when I was born I had this very blonde hair and all. Actually I was born bald. I mean how many babies get born with blonde hair? None. I mean I've seen them and they're all wrinkled and red and slimy and everything. And bald. And then all the phonies have to come around and tell you he's as cute as a bug's ear. A bug's ear, boy, that really kills me. You ever seen a bug's ear? What's cute about a bug's ear? For Chrissake! Nothing, that's what.

So, like I was saying, I always seem to be getting into these very stupid situations. Like this time I was telling you about. Anyway, I was walking through the forest and all when I see this very interesting house. A house. You wouldn't think anybody would be living way the hell out in the goddam forest, but they were. No one was home or anything and the door was open, so I walked in. I figured what I'd do is I'd probably horse around until the guys that lived there came home and maybe asked me to stay for dinner or something. Some people think they have to ask you to stay for dinner even if they hate you. Also I didn't exactly feel like going home and getting asked a lot of lousy questions. I mean that's all I ever seem to do.

Anyway, while I was waiting I sort of sampled some of this stuff they had on the table that tasted like oatmeal. Oatmeal. It would have made you puke, I mean it. Then something very spooky started happening. I started getting dizzier than hell. I figured I'd feel better if I could just rest for a while. Sometimes if you eat something like lousy oatmeal you can feel better if you just rest for awhile, so I sat down. That's when the goddam chair breaks in half. No kidding, you start feeling lousy and some stupid chair is going to break on you every time. I'm not kidding. Anyway I finally found the crummy bedroom and I lay down on this very tiny bed. I was really depressed.

I don't know how long I was asleep or anything but all of a sudden I hear this very strange voice say, "Someone's been sleeping in my sack, for Chrissake, and there she is!" So I open my eyes and here at the foot of the bed are these three crummy bears. Bears! I swear to God. By that time I was really feeling depressed. There's nothing more depressing than waking up and finding three bears talking to you, I mean.

So I didn't stay around and shoot the breeze with them or anything. If you want to know the truth, I sort of ran out of there like a madman or something. I do that quite a little when I'm depressed like that.

On the way home, though, I got to figuring. What probably happened is these bears wandered in when they smelled this oatmeal and all. Probably bears like oatmeal, I don't know. and the voice I heard when I woke up was probably something I dreamt.

So that's the story.

I wrote it all up once as a theme in school, but my crummy teacher said it was too whimsical. Whimsical. That killed me. You got to meet her sometime, boy. She's a real queen.

Dan Greenberg, "Three Bears in Search of an Author," Esquire, Feb 1958, pp. 46-47.