Median strip on Wabusch Avenue. Three pedestrians sitting in deck chairs. Sedentarians. One in shorts. The other two also in shorts. The call of summer is upon them and they are watching the cars go by. They throw dye bombs on white vehicles. They always miss. Except for when they don't. But they do, so they always hit the miss. Officer Langley approaches at 11. They are allowed to continue on.
Officer Langley is the name of their dog. Rescued last spring from the Brakhage Shelter, where they were known to do horribly unspeakable things. Things void of description. But, on the whole, nothing destructive. Their experiments were mundane, but their migraine inducing tablets were very experimental and the shelter was shut down only a few months after the exposé.
Shot in cinéma vérité and wonderfully cut, the documentary premiered at the local theatre house and exhibited a velvety smooth scope. Running only 20 minutes the credit and disclaimers more than made up for it, rolling through the legalese, thank yous and such for the next 11 minutes. A Nevermore Studios production, financed by overdue credit cards.
They did tests on the animals at the shelter, but they all failed. You can't teach any dog to do algebra in six months under captivity. This is a fact. For such dereliction of duty the inn keeper of Brakhage Shelter was made to watch the entire series of The Wonder Years on mute. Missing much of the rich layer that comes from the voice over it was a punishment of deprivation and long, long pauses.
Officer Langley returns to the median strip and is set to work flagging down any oncoming cars that may provide the three men a ride back into town.
Nobody stops.
Written on Sunday, 20 January 2013