Entry032302

03/23/02

The Funny Ballentine
- A Vignette -
By Cathy Hanlon

Where did she come from? And, who did she come with? How could she be
alone? Her condition was terrible. I thought maybe she was totally drunk, but the
others were saying it had to be drugs, perhaps some kind of speed. She didn’t
seem to be dressed all that badly. No, not like a homeless person or anything,
more arty or young fashionable. Yet, I’m not sure she was all that young. The
outfit was matched. She wore a longish, tight fitting, navy blue print skirt. Her
figure was thin though, possibly drug thin. And on top she wore a baby blue tight
fitting tee with the word University written in glitter across her chest. She had
boobs too, real, unreal, who knows? And she had a matching navy blue sweater.
It all fit, the outfit. At some point she was together. She planned it to work. Had
she started her evening with her hair up? Or did it get that way as the night wore
on? It didn’t look too good. There was some sloppiness there. And her behavior?
Some thought it entertaining and laughed. Some seemed uncomfortable with it.
They laughed too. Maybe a few didn’t know what to think, had never seen this
type of display, were a bit concerned? She went from table to table trying to
make some connection. She danced and sang. She went right up to the
microphone and joined the band. It was said by someone who knew of her that
she actually was a singer, her name was Charlie Ballentine. She appeared to
know some of the words. She appeared to have a beat, could dance. IT flowed
from her. But IT was the behavior that drove her away. She became an
entertainment forced upon the crowd that was not her audience. She had
troubles beyond losing her daughter’s college money. She had troubles beyond
losing $40,000 in a business deal. She lost her keys. She lost her dignity. And,
we laughed. She left, and we continued talking about her.

“We had been put in the mood for ghosts, that evening, after an excellent dinner at our old
friend Culwin’s, by a tale of Fred Murchard’s -- the narrative of a strange personal
visitation.” - The Eyes, Edith Wharton

As far as my life goes ... I'm feeling a little blue. I'd say more but I've been dealing with censorship lately, self-censorship. Not a good place for me. I crave for freedom, openness, honesty ... but honesty has made me blue today.