Awakenings

I awoke one morning because a faint voice shouted out a mystery word. I’ve been trying to figure out what they meant. The possibilities are so endless. Sometimes the best way to solve the unknown is to share it with others. What could this mystery word possibly mean?

“Harold/Herald!” I hear yelled in an older gentleman’s voice. It was the kind of voice where I knew they had Irish-ties or were Hebrew. A little nasally and obnoxious.

This was the first thing I heard on Easter morning. My ideal first thing to hear on Easter morning would be three women’s voices simultaneously say “So handsome!” “So strong!” “Do you want 500 Cadbury Eggs or 501?”

 

(Is there anything better than a Cadbury Egg? If there is, you’re lying)

The most obvious thing that was being said here was that someone was calling for someone named Harold. They said it twice in the same hideously strained old man’s voice. Harold is a common enough name. Usually people who are given this name at birth go with Harry because they love dirty cop movies and it gives them an excuse not to shave.

Still, I’m not convinced. This was Easter Sunday after-all. “Hark the Herald Angels Sing…” is a popular Christmas tune. I think the title of the song is Jingle Bell Rocks and it does rock. I’m not too familiar with using herald as an adjective. Upon further research, it basically means someone with something important to say. I find this strange because everyone named Harold I have ever met has had nothing valuable to say about anything. They must have been the most poorly named people ever only to exception of some of the Indian women named Priti (pronounced “pretty”) whom I have met.

The word herald is also associated with many newspapers. The Miami Herald is a very popular paper. I don’t know how many people read it. I have a feeling the Miami Herald is usually spread out on a bathroom floor while Cuban drug dealers torture each other. Cubans hate cleaning bathroom floors. It perpetuates a longstanding stereotype they hope to end. I doubt this man was talking about the Miami Herald or any other newspaper for that matter. Although, this was Sunday so maybe he was yelling at his wife to get the Herald so he could look at coupons or crappy comics?

 

(A brief summary of this paper, the economy sucks, Mexicans are helpful, something about tomatoes, and people are bad drivers. I think we need a big war or something. This news is bland)

In New York City there’s Herald Square. It’s pretty small and whenever I have walked past it I always wonder what it is. Now I guess I know because I looked it up. I really hope I was not woken up because a man was yelling about a tiny park. But as neighbors will do, they enjoy yelling about stupid shit.

I don’t know who said, why it was said, or what their purpose was. This simple word will forever be leached into my brain as the word I woke up to on Easter 2013. It’s my Rosebud.

What’s the first thing you would like to hear on Easter morning?