How are you?

How are you?

She asked.

I was startled. I'd been

thinking of more stuff

than one should,

but not that.

Should I let the other

stuff go and dig deep

into the recesses of

my mind,

ascertaining how I am,

or simply say,

just fine, 

and you?

I told her I made an

art piece about that

once. I went to a

Jewish deli with my

aunt and her friends

and someone asked

someone how are

you and I expected

a fine and you? and

instead got a G_d

awful litany of ills,

the like of which

I had not heard of,

that is, not in or from

one person.

Now when I hear those

friendly empathetic sympathetic

words, the litany returns and I

just want to hide my head,

returning to peaceful

mindless discriminating

meanderings.

How am I?

I'm just fine,

and you?

Note one: When my wife left today, I was going through the garbage container outdoors, looking desperately for my favorite scissors that I had last night ... and that I've had for over 20 years. I had thrown in a tub of queso that wouldn't go down the sink—it was so thick and nasty. It was all over my hands. She asked how I was and I said "Terrible. I lost my scissors." 

They are my muse. I even went to order a new pair ... and then looked once more where they were supposed to be ... and they were there. Yea!!!!!

Note two: "Whenever someone asked a certain Zen master how he was, he would always answer 'I'm okay.' Finally one of his students said, 'Roshi, how can you always be okay? Don't you ever have a bad day?' The Zen Master answered, 'Sure I do. On bad days, I'm okay. On good days, I'm okay.'"

Note three: Here's the piece I did in 1984. The text says, "How are you? Well, about 6 months ago I fell down and was unconscious for three wks. and then my brain started bleeding and they started to feed me interveniously[sic] and they had to do 9 brain scans and I don't look so bad now, do I?" The innocent "How are you?" (Click on image to enlarge.)