PUMPING IRONY

Well, my swell computer decided to have the 24-hour flu but finally came back to life a while ago. I had decided to go to the library to blog from one of its computers this afternoon but got too preoccupied painting window sills. Speaking of the library (like the transition?), I recently got another big box o' books from Dr. Maureen, After I read them, I donate them to Library Lady so she can continue her quest to keep our fair town literate a bit longer.

I finished reading one of Dr. M's mysteries this morning--Bad Twin, by Gary Troup, who, in a mystery of his own, disappeared with a jet-full of passengers over the Pacific Ocean in 2004, shortly after the novel was published. Seems he was on a book promo tour, returning from Australia, when the plane in which he was a passenger went down. Adding to the weirdness are some strange coincidences in the book. His protagonist once uses the word “oceanic” as an adjective, speaking of the multitude of problems he’s encountered on the case; the airline for Troup’s ill-fated flight was Oceanic. Troup has his main character on a plane en route to Australia, when the woman next to him remarks how “deadly vast” the Pacific Ocean is. Toward the end of the book, there is a paragraph about mortality and destiny. It’s almost as though the author is writing about his own fate. Kinda creepy.

Now, if I was still teaching, I would use this little story as an example of irony. I was always looking for such oddities to snip from newspapers and magazines for "show and tell." There was a person who was struck dead by lightning while visiting a family plot at a cemetery, and then there was the man who had his first--and last--300 bowling game. He was so overwhelmed with excitement and joy over his perfect performance that he had a heart attack and died right there at the bowling alley. Thirteen strikes and you're out!

A lottery winner who ended up with a lousy life was another example I used. Maybe you've heard this story or something similar. Some poor, deserving schlup wins 50 million bucks and then ends up in the poor house when he radically changes his lifestyle and goes on a wacky spending spree. His kids, now with money to shove up their noses, become drug addicts and one overdoses and dies. In her grief, his wife runs off with a better-looking guy; the divorce settlement consumes half the resources. Taxes can’t be paid, and bankruptcy court takes back the mansion, yacht, and fancy cars. The guy ends up in worse shape financially than he was before the lottery windfall, and he’s emotionally ruined. Now, that’s a bitch of a case of irony!

When I win the lottery, remind me to stay in my one-bedroom bungalow, keep driving the Saturn, and never miss a day of litter box duty. No amount of money will ever keep the Flaming Bore from being a close personal friend of the pooper scooper.