Being an alien
Looking at things with fresh eyes
Sometimes when I go on long walks in familiar places, I try to pretend I’ve never been there before, to see things as if I’ve never seen them, recollect my first impressions when I hadn’t known how things appeared. It lends a place new appeal, new beauty.
Also fun is to pretend I’m an alien who just landed his UFO. Done in the manner of Marie-Helene Bertino’s novel Beautyland, or the late Mitch Hedberg, I’ll try to describe what I’m seeing as if I’ve never been to Earth before.
I did this on an hour’s run this week, and here are some thoughts I recorded by saying many times, “Siri, take a note.”
—Humans are water balloons.
—A water balloon that won’t break is a water bottle.
—A car is about fifteen times too big for its purpose: moving one or several unmoving humans faster than they can move on their own.
—Cars in Los Angeles frequently travel slower than humans move.
—Humans often signal their intentions to one another with their eyes, or a turn of their shoulders, or a tilt of the head. Other humans respond to the signals without seeming to realize it. You should see them inside elevators.
—Humans are extremely vulnerable from the rear.
—Reading a book made from paper is like slowly ruffling a lot of money.
—A parking ticket is a letter written to someone the sender suspects is illiterate.
—The sun likes flora and most fauna, but not humans very much. If they stare at it, it blinds them. If they linger too long, it burns them.
—Smartphones are miniature suns that humans carry around in their pockets, that won’t blind a human no matter how long they stare, a miracle that seems to hypnotize the humans into a trance.
—Dogs proudly wear humans on necklaces and walk them about. Sometimes they’ll permit the human to detach, sit on a bench, calm down, look at their smartphone while the dog communicates with other dogs (the human is often testy otherwise).
—In big cities, bodies of water that humans can’t safely drink for nourishment are open to the public. Bodies of water that humans can drink are fenced off from drinking.
—A water fountain is a hose inside a sculpture.
—Humans buy a lot of stuff and take it home, then decide they don’t want it and put the stuff outside their homes, on the street. But there are other humans—not many of them, just a few, in matching outfits—who want everything, and the two groups have an understanding: on different days in different neighborhoods, the humans who aren’t picky about stuff drive around in big green trucks and take everything for themselves.
—A house with only one room is a shed.
—A store is an apartment where nobody sleeps.
—A tree is a blade of grass with time to grow.
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“Meditations in an Emergency” is a weekly essay from author Rosecrans Baldwin about something beautiful. Paying subscribers receive a Sunday supplement with three-plus things to love, plus a monthly travel-lust ballyhoo.
Rosecrans is a correspondent for GQ, a contributor at Travel + Leisure, and the bestselling author of Everything Now: Lessons From the City-State of Los Angeles, winner of the California Book Award. Other books include The Last Kid Left and Paris, I Love You but You’re Bringing Me Down. His debut novel, You Lost Me There, was a New York Times Book Review Editors’ Choice.
For books, articles, bio, contact info: rosecransbaldwin.com.