J Gertie

AN UNCONVENTIONAL MIND

Gertie opened her eyes (well sort of), to greet the morning with her
usual enthusiasm.
It was a mixture of feelings between a good to be alive attitude and a
oh heck! It 's morning again. The clock read 8 o clock and as she lay
back into her pillows, her thoughts wandered into a gently meandering
of a conversation that she must have had at sometime about not needing
as much sleep as you got older, well the other part of her mind said,
that was the biggest load of balderdash that she must have listened to
this century, because all age had done for her was to make her body and
mind come to think that getting out of bed was a necessary chore, and
making the bed when it was still warm a positive insult. Still, life
could be a bitch at times.
The kettle roared into life as Gertie prepared for the day ahead and
wondered what it held in it's little grubby paws. It wasn't that she
was depressed or even fed up, she really did like life, she just didn't
like getting out of bed. Still a shower and fixing her hair and makeup
soon put that right.
Gertie was a person of two contrast, and had long ago acknowledged that
fact, and was quite comfortable with the thought of it. She could look
and dress in a very conventional way, but oh! in her inner feelings and
thoughts she was most unconventional. She was still the rebel and did
like to shock the innocent public with her outspoken views when it
suited. Not that she treated them that often to this but when somebody
was being pompous or righteous she could not help but quietly and
smiling broadly tell them in a round about way that they were wasting
oxygen, and how environmentally unfriendly this was. Needless to say
they usually avoided her next time, which made Gertie chuckle.
Enthusiasm for the day ahead now gathered momentum, and a decision,
well the first that would be made that day, was about to be made.
Gathering all her going out items, which consisted of her handbag,
cigarettes, and car keys, she had a last look around to double check
the cooker, not that she expected it to move or follow her, but to
check that it wasn't going to make her little flat a pile of ashes in
her absence. That done and satisfied that even the most experienced
burglar could not invade her privacy, she set
upon making yet another day to look back upon with fond memories. As
she wandered towards her shiny car she lifted her head high to feel the
wind gently blowing her hair,
and decided that this really was going to be a good day. Days like this
made her feel so alive and energetic and perhaps in her unconventional
thoughts, a day when she felt that fairies and magic were real.
The precinct was thronging with people of all shapes and sizes, all
with different purposes to fulfil; some were just trying to fill in the
gaps in their time before going
Onto the real purpose for being out. Others were walking around, mainly
because they couldn't think of anything else to do.
Gertie wondered which category she would place herself in, and briefly
wondered if she too looked like the people that she recognised as lost
souls, then she quickly dismissed this and decided that her soul wasn't
really lost but that she just let it have it's head now and then. A
young lad, well he looked young to her, but then so did policemen, and
we all know what that means don't we, was strumming on a guitar,
trying, bless his little cotton socks, to make a few pounds, for
whatever purpose he needed it for, without much success. Still that was
life; maybe tomorrow would be a better day. Time for a coffee, and a
cigerette and perhaps a little conversation with whoever wanted to
talk. This might all seem very boring to somebody else, but to Gertie
it was the elixir of life.
People fascinated her, while at the same time bored her, but I suppose
most people feel like that, if only they cared to admit it, but the
human mind was conditioned not to feel like that, and all too often
people smiled and laughed because they felt that it was impolite not
to. Sitting opposite her was what could be termed a well groomed woman,
Gertie once more found her mind wandering, she wondered if the woman
opposite had really ever done as she had done, walked and ran across
the moors without shoes on, just because it felt good, or smoked
marijuana, or even stayed out dancing all night and gone to worked
straight afterwards with no feelings of tiredness just elation. Oh!
Isn't youth a wonderful thing?
Gertie had always considered herself a very lucky person, she firmly
believed that she had a guardian angel, and years later believed that
she had met her. It happened when she was twenty one, when she was
really down on her luck, skint and waiting for the Post Office, to open
so that she could cash her unemployment giro. It was raining so hard
that the area outside the post office was just a gathering place for
all the rain to collect, so the result being that a puddle that could
have had the status of being a pond
without an enquiry being held had collected. She felt wet, cold and
miserable and really had lost the purpose of living. Then into her life
came this truly amazing woman.
The woman was in her late forties or early fifties, with hair that
could only come out of a peroxide bottle, makeup that would look in
place on a stage or theatre, and the most brightly coloured flowered
skirt that one could possibly imagine. Where she had appeared from
Gertie to this day still didn't know, but appear she did. Nobody else
in the queue seemed to notice her, but Gertie did, and the woman's next
action caused a whole different attitude to her life. The woman
suddenly jumped in the huge puddle that was trying to emulate a pond,
spun round and round shouting "Wheeee", then just as suddenly walked
back out of it. Gertie couldn't believe it , she found herself jumping
up and down and clapping her hands in delight, to which the woman
turned round to her and gave her the most amazing smile. She would
always describe the smile as the most magical and brightest smile that
she had ever seen; it was as though the woman had given her new eyes to
look through the world with. One filled full of laughter and a magical
kind of happiness. Just as quickly the woman disappeared. She looked at
the queue and realised that they were just as bored as they were before
the woman she named mentally to herself "her crazy lady " had appeared.
Never again did she lose the magical feeling of life and never again
did she ever see her physically, but she knew the woman had never left
her, and now and again she rears her head and makes a dull day very
sunny by showing Gertie the very funny side life. It's funny what a cup
of coffee can make you remember.
Oh yes she was a very lucky person. She had travelled to different
places around the world, married twice, had two children, both girls
which she thought was very fortunate as it never occurred to her that
she could have had a boy, and come to think of it would have known what
to do with one. I mean just think of it, a boy in a pink frilly dress,
it doesn't bear thinking about does it.
Being a teenager in the late sixties and early seventies did have it's
advantages, it allowed one to become slightly eccentric in later life
or perhaps it just allows you to fulfil your dreams when you feel that
you have conformed long enough to society.
I mean who really wants to mind grandchildren and sit at home wearing
slippers. Gertie certainly didn't want to, mind you the fact that she
hadn't got any yet might have had some decision in this, but that's
just a mere triviallity. Oh no she still believes in playing snowballs
with the first fall of snow, and still gets excited at the sight of
watching Status Quo in a recorded concert on the television. Frank
Rossi still looks good in jeans, and has never aged. Ah the wonder of
technology. She's glad the coffee wasn't any stronger, just think what
she could have remembered if it had have been.
Leaving the cafe she wondered what the rest of the day would bring.
More fun filled memories or observation? Well she would just have to
see because tomorrow it was back to the grindstone and what people
laughingly called reality.