Since Monty and I were sixteen, I never doubted that we were meant to be together. But there was one moment during our senior year of high school when I had a terrible thought: Can I tolerate this person for the rest of my life? Can he tolerate me?
We were at the food court in the mall, eating Chik-Fil-A chicken nuggets. I was salting our waffle fries when I heard it: “Wookalar.” I don’t remember the context in which Monty said it; I just remember him saying it and making a gesture like a peace sign over his nose. I stared at him and said, “What did you just say?” “Wookalar,” he said again. “It’s from the movie ‘The Private Eyes.’” “I know,” I said. I’d seen “The Private Eyes” with my family. The movie stars Don Knotts and Tim Conway as bumbling detectives trying to solve a murder mystery.
“I love that movie!” Monty said. “I hate it,” I said. “I loathe it. I abhor it. I detest it.” Monty stared at me in disbelief. “Why?” he asked. “I hate the poems they use as clues,” I said. Monty started laughing. “But those are the best part! The way they—“ “Please,” I interrupted him. “Please, please don’t.” “Seriously?” he asked. I nodded. And I tried to explain. “The poem clues break the rules of rhyme. Just listening to them makes my brain itch.” Monty looked confused, so I said, “Ok, fine. Remember these clues from the movie?”
To dig your own grave is quite a sight
But to bury yourself is not very bright
There are more to kill and the job will be done
Now there are five, soon there will be a lot less.
I said when I died that I’d come back
If you believe in ghosts then you’re on the right track
I’m out of the grove and roaming the moors
If you wanna be safe you’d better lock all the windows and screens.
Now you will see I can do something right
I’m going to show you a killer tonight
I want Phyllis to come to my chamber and see
Who was the one who murdered Lady Morley and myself.
“Why do you have those memorized?” Monty asked. “They’re so awful that they’re seared into my brain,” I said. And right there in the food court, I told Monty my secret: I’m a verbomaniac. I’m passionately obsessed with words and letters. When I see words, my brain immediately goes into dissect and reassemble mode. My brain is like one of those cheap, thick puzzle books you can buy at 7-11: it’s crammed with word jumbles, crosswords, fill-in-the-blanks, and word searches. I’m also a compulsive editor, and those unrhymed clues from “The Private Eyes” test the very limits of my editorial patience.
“It’s the opposite of a phobia,” I said to Monty, by way of explanation. And I started listing some of my phobias, none of which were new to Monty. But the names were new to him:
- Arachnophobia: an extreme or irrational fear of spiders.
- Entomophobia: fear of insects.
- Apiphobia: fear of bees.
- Katsaridaphobia: fear of cockroaches.
- Orthopterophobia: fear of crickets.
- Spheksophobia: fear of wasps.
- Mottephobia: fear of moths.
Monty asked me why I knew the names. “I just told you,” I said. “I’m a verbomaniac.” I also told him about the mental file I’d compiled of the phobias I don’t have:
- Linonophobia: the fear of string. It would be a sad life for my cats if I was afraid of string.
- Chorophobia: the fear of dancing. Perhaps I should have this fear; it might save me some embarrassment when I choose to bust a move.
- Arachibutyrophobia: the fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of your mouth. That’s not a pleasant feeling, but I’m not afraid of it.
- Turophobia: the fear of cheese. This one makes me wonder: is it all cheese? Just the smelly ones? What about the individually wrapped single slices of American cheese? What about cheese in a can?
- Omphalophobia: the fear of seeing or touching another person’s belly button. I don’t consider this one of my phobias, but I have no desire to touch someone else’s belly button. I’d rather not look at it, either.
- Papaphobia: the fear of the Pope. I wonder if this is mostly a Catholic phobia.
- Anatidaephobia: the fear that somewhere, a duck or goose is watching you. I don’t have an irrational fear of this, but if I think about it, I probably could. The idea that a goose or duck might be toddling around, peeping in my windows, is indeed unsettling.
All these years later, I can answer the question I had that day in the food court—we tolerate each other quite well. I’ve learned to laugh at the “wookalar,” and Monty has learned about my phobias and my obsessions. He knows that when we go to Mom’s, I can’t be near her pillow that has the words of Psalm 23 on it—I won’t be able to concentrate on anything but rearranging, editing, and re-forming the words on it. He also understands my insect phobias. When he kills a bug, he has to show me proof of death. (I need to be absolutely sure the bugs are dead because Monty flushes them. And I have a horrible mental picture of a bug struggling to swim and using me as a life preserver.)
I do have a perverse streak in me that sometimes wishes Monty could experience at least a few days with an obsession as manic as mine. I even have one picked out for him: metromania. It’s the insatiable, irresistible need to write poetry. I’d be supportive–I’d hand him a legal pad and pen and say:
How lucky you are to be free of most fears
But now you’ll have poems to fill all your years
You’ll rhyme every second—it will always be there
In your thoughts, in your dreams, and in your night visions.
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Comments 6
In do have any real phobias, Sparrow. . But tday’s Blog, made me smile. Debbie and I have never seen the movie, But, Don Knotts, Tim Conway, very funny, comedic actors. Keep on blogging TexGen
TexGen–so happy to hear from you! And I’m happy this made you smile. Yes, they were two of the best comedic actors, for sure. Have a happy Wednesday. ❤
Another great job you had me laughing all the way, all those phobias good grief Renee how do you ever go out side. I have been stung twice this year just walking out the door, the worst I have ever gotten stung was 22 yellow jackets flew up my pant leg while mowing the yard and everyone of them stung me, that was an experience to remember.
Everyone of has a phobia or two, I won’t do ladders over 8 feet tall or look over a railing more than one story tall. To me flying is a blast but standing on the railing of a hundred foot building no way. Heights don’t bother my wife so you can imange the stunts she pulls if I get near a railing or inside a glass elevator not cool at all. The army tried to tell me I end my fear heights by joining the paratroopers our you kidding me just what I need jumping out airplane. One real good friend who is a skydiver offered to pay for and buddy jump with me, he said it could take away my fear of heights, not me my feet stay on the ground when ever possible!!!!!!
My dear wife just informed me that I missed my chance to stand on the clear glass floor balcony on the John Handcock building in Chicago which one hindered stories, it appears that the clear glass floor developed a crack and they shut the balcony down, oh well didn’t want to go anyway 😁
Really enjoyed this blog Renee, I learned a lot about a lot of phobias I had no idea existed and I am starting to learn something about poetry which I have just sort passed over, so your writing is making a difference, keep it up.
Got a question for you down in Florida the have these geckos crawling all over, they look like the gecko that tv insurance adds, they are about 3 inches long and they crawl around the outside of buildings, they sort of fun to watch and the natives say “if you have 🦎 you don’t have 🐍” so everyone leaves them alone. When our son had his home out side of Colorado Springs he told me he killed a rattle snake every two weeks, I hope you don’t have a snake problem were you live, snakes are a another phobia, so I hope we have a few geckos in Florida. Snakes are just plan spooky can’t stand them another phobia I guess.
I need to give you my new email address; gallendavis@gmail.com
Keep up the good work!
Later,
Grover❤️
Oh, Grover–you made me laugh with your question about how I ever go outside. I would like to go outside draped in mosquito netting, but since I can’t do that, I’m just extremely vigilant. And it helps that I’m a night person! (except for moths) Monty shares your fear of heights, and I read him the same article that Jean read you about the glass on that balcony. I’m not afraid of heights, but that. . . can you imagine how that felt?! If I had to choose between snakes and geckos, I’d choose geckos. I assume they’d be just as personable as the little one in the Geico ads. Snakes don’t really scare me, but like you said, they’re just plain spooky. You absolutely made my day by saying that you’re learning something about poetry–that is a happy tonic for my soul. Thanks for the email update. Praying for you as you move into the land of snakes and geckos! ❤
Beautifully written as always, my friend! I laughed through the ending of this one! All these phobias remind me of the scene ,in Charlie Brown Christmas, when Lucy is naming all the phobias to try and see what Charlie Brown’s is. When I was little I had the phobia Entomophobia- fear of insects and Apiphobia- fear of bees. I had a bee fly up my shorts once and Sarah and our neighbor’s were telling me and I did not believe them. All of a sudden I felt something in my shorts and of course my first reaction is to swat at it. 😂 It indeed was a bee and it stung me. I had to go home and have my Mom help me . Here is another instance of my fear of insects or bees: my family was on vacation in the South, Louisiana I think. Sarah, my Dad and I had been in the hotel pool. We had gotten out and had towels on. A bug of some kind was flying around me and I instantly thought it was a bee, so I did the first thing that popped into my head to get rid of it, I jumped back into the pool with my towel still wrapped around me! 😂 You cease to amaze me with your talent in writing! Thank you for the good laugh and for blessing me by being YOU! I love you, my dear friend. ❤️
Melanie–I’m so glad this made you laugh. I can’t imagine having a bee fly up my shorts–you handled it much better than I would have. I would have taken those shorts off so fast. . . ! I also think your idea to jump in the pool, towel and all, was ingenious. If you’ve ever watched “Little House on the Prairie,” you know that people chased by bugs always head for the nearest body of water. Which is my plan if that ever happens. Thank you for your words. Love you back. ❤