Queequeg Casts His Bones
As the Pequod sets sail in the pages of Moby Dick, Queequeg casts his bones. The throw reveals the pattern of an ominous future. Convinced that this voyage will be his last, he instructs the ship's carpenter to build his coffin. Queegueg is the son of a chieftain of an unnamed tribe who has left his home to discover the world. He is the whaling ship's harpooner, an imposing figure covered with tattoos inscribed on his body by a native holy man. He doesn't know what they mean, but he dutifully carves the same mystic symbols on the lid of his coffin. Hold that thought.
Now let's just pretend you're at a garage sale and I'm the old geezer there who rambles on about the curiosities he's accumulated. In truth, I am an old geezer who rambles on and on.
Some day there may be an actual garage sale, or later, an estate sale. For now, I'm just putting these items on display so their stories get told. Folks seriously interested in them and don't mind waiting a few years or so, can send me an email address so when that day comes they will get a notification from me or my heirs. firstname.lastname@example.org
Ive gathered a lot of artifacts, randomly, that are mementos of my adventures, and I like having them around but it will eventually be time to lighten my load. Only a few of them have any big value.
Having been to many garage sales, I've deduced that here are times when the odds tip in your favor. Being the buyer at an estate sale is one of those times. Things are being sold in a short fixed period of time, two or three days; and everything needs to be sold. Most important, things are getting sold by people who don't know what they meant, their value, or even what they are. So when my stuff finally does get sold, I want these stories to go with them.
Some stuff is just too personal to be sold; like the stuff in my treasure chest. Some stuff I leave to Johnny to let go of someday. Some stuff should even go in the fire with me. But I've got to mention some of them because of the stories they bring to mind.
Life is a wonder and I wonder how it all works, and how it all comes out. Many friends and family have died now, and like somebody said at a my friend Dick's memorial, "I miss him and I wonder where he went."
I wanted to get these stories written down before somebody's wondering where I went.
Not a garage sale. That's just the name of the book.
© 2022 John Oliver
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