We all have “to-do” lists. On a sultry summer day, the impulse is to chuck the list. The weather is telling us to take it slow. It’s easy for me to put things off — I am a good procrastinator. There’s decluttering, piles of things to go through. A friend loaned me the book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing which is wise, kind, loving and thoughtful (my friend described it as bit treacly which may be true – I’ve only read parts of it!). I was inspired for a while and went at it with zeal. Then I tapered off. I’ll get back to it one of these days. During one of my walks I saw this cart that had been earnestly designated “Work Cart” standing idle and empty and relegated to a corner. I like that. Sometimes it is a good idea to just be and push the work cart aside. We are all in too much of a hurry. It’s the weekend, why can’t we slow down? This morning I was driving and enjoying the ride listening to the radio, watching all the beauty glide past. Apparently, my leisurely speed was too annoying to other cars who were in a frantic hurry. I was the recipient a lot of angry honks, pointed passing and aggressive arm gesturing. Stopping, or at least slowing down, to smell the roses was totally unacceptable.
This little cart photo reminded me of an obscure series of Japanese films that I recall entitled Baby Cart. They were violent had minimal dialogue featuring a Ronin warrior father who travels around Japan with his baby son, in you guessed it: a cart. A friend of mine who was into offbeat films introduced me to directors like Dario Argento, Lucio Fulci, Massimo Dallamano, and Kenji Misumi the director of Lone Wolfe and Cub: Sword of Vengeance aka the Baby Cart series. My friend was also into WIP, women in prison films, and what is referred to as Nunsploitation. I can’t say these were my cup of tea, and they are mostly an unmemorable blur, but BabyCart stuck with me. With all the warrior and revenge plot aside, there was something fundamental and oddly touching about the father and baby son relationship. I mean they were tight! It’s something we can all understand. I don’t know how I arrived here, but that’s okay. Let’s all think about the ties that bind — the good ones — and remember to breathe.