Wise King Taken by the Foolish One


essay no. 9

The Way it Really Was, and, because too painful to want to remember, especially the naming of names, the way it was purposefully that I put off official recognition of "Reality" and opted instead for the reading and writing of light fiction as a child. (To whom, admittedly, fiction does naturally appeal more.)

Dan Plonsey
October, 2001

Keywords: hay, peanuts, stupid musicians always busy good-for-nothing bums

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Wise King essays, home page, or one of the Wise King essays: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, or Plonsey's "Kingdoms Diptych" home page, or Dan Plonsey home page.


The Way it Really Was, and, because too painful to want to remember, especially the naming of names, the way it was purposefully that I put off official recognition of "Reality" and opted instead for the reading and writing of light fiction as a child. (To whom, admittedly, fiction does naturally appeal more.)

This is the story of some people who wouldn't rehearse, who wouldn't simply devote themselves to the playing of a particular piece of music I had written, and who eventually had to pretend that they didn't know me. Also, this is the story of three elephants who wanted more than just hay and peanuts.

Once upon a time, there were three elephants who wanted more than just hay and peanuts. However, the place where they lived was well beyond the delivery radius for all pizza, Chinese food, and everything else. Consequently they had no choice: they had to eat peanuts and hay, and eventually they came to terms with their situation, and they turned their attentions upon the subtle details and differences among both the hay and peanuts upon which they were entitled to chomp endlessly, and rather than giving in to tedium, they remarked to one another about their observations of the way that fog hung around their valley, bay and hills - or dissipate therefrom - and they thought deep thoughts, and gradually came to enjoy hay and peanuts in a truly marvelous sense.

However, the musicians who lived nearby were "too busy" to come to rehearsals. They were in thrall to the Foolish One. They became miserable. Nothing satisfied them, because nothing they did was very worthwhile, nothing was as good, for instance, as playing this particular piece of music which I had written would have been, had they been doing that on a weekly basis as they had been invited, by me, to do. But at least their activities were varied - business, home, pleasure - they couldn't complain about lack of variety. And they didn't get yelled at or have to explain to anyone about the sacrifices necessary for art.

The Wise King rubbed his head and wished that he still had some pain relief medicine, but he'd given the last five pills to some grouchy person he'd met by the side of the road. "Stupid musicians!" he grumbled.


-- Dan Plonsey, October 2001,
El Cerrito, California

Go to:
Wise King essays: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, or Plonsey's "Kingdoms Diptych" home page, or Dan Plonsey home page.