Well, where on earth do I start? I suppose the only place *to* start is at the beginning. But I guess my trouble isn't that, but where is the beginning from which I ought to start? Maybe the best way to begin this journey is by telling a story.
This is the story of Ping and Pong, the goldfish to which this Blog has been sincerely dedicated. The story of Ping and Pong begins something sort of like this:
It was July and the Orange County fair was in full swing. It was my second time going that year, and a recent reconcilliation made the time all the more fun and carefree. Pacing the fair for the third year in a row, I felt all of the years past melt into the current experience. Beauty, joy, laughter surrounded me like nothing else in the world.
We strode through the food stands, the rides, and the carnival before I saw what my heart covetted more than anything else. Before me in tiny plastic tanks with magnificently brilliantly colored rocks and cheap plastic tops, there swam a bright orange sea of opportunities. Once my eye was caught, memories of my fish-years passed before my eyes in a flash. No matter how much money or futile effort it was going to cost - I had to have at least one of these golden treasures before mine eyes.
Yelping like a child in a toystore, I yanked my companion to the booth and pointed eagerly. Lookin up at my companion with bright blue eyes full of fishie fins swimming gracefully through my soul, I tenderly asked "Can we?"
That sealed the deal. Whatever the number of ping-pong balls had to be lost - I would have my friend. The money was laid down on the counter and a few beat-up ping-pongs were laid before our eyes. Taking his best shots, my companion scored enough to attain me my treasure. As I stared down at the small tanks with brilliant colors, I carefully chose my new friend. Yet to my dismay - that was not what I had won. In shock, I glanced below the tanks and in little cups I saw more beauties desperate for more space. My heart went out and seeing the beautiful silver flash before my eyes, I chose my first, "Pong".
Seeing the small dish would not last the day, my companion laid down more money. I stared in anxious anticipation, but the shots missed. Oh how my heart bled to see my dear in one of those beautiful tanks - the one I had earlier deemed worthy. Oh how my tiny heart did break at that moment. In fear, I trembled but made a move to take my "Pong" with me and pray he live through the day.
Then ceasing in my steps, the strange carnival lady came over and I heard my companion speak to me, "Which one do you want?"
In shock, my heart leapt into my throat. Could it be, could the tiny tank really be mine? Supressing another yelp of joy, I carefully looked over the tiny treasure chests of life. But I had deemed the little tank with blue rocks my prize. Pointing and directing, my tiny tank was laid before me. In it swam a little golden joy with tiny black tips coloring his fins. "Ping" would be his name.
Joyously, the two were mine though I had only expected one. Tenderly placing "Pong" into the tiny tank with "Ping", we went about our day. The fair was filled with much more fun for me and my companion, but my two little prizes were the best of the day - even exceeding "Lucky", my amazing hot purple dragon whom my companion won by a struck of ingenius luck.
***
Yet the story does not end there. In my dwelling, I brought my two new living mates. For a time they lived peacefully in the tiny tank while I made efforts to bring home my fishbowl from ages past. Once I finally got it back to my home, I gingerly placed both "Ping" and "Pong" in the bowl. Yet, only days later disaster broke out.
There was anamosity between "Ping and "Pong" for the first visible time. After a fight (which now looking back may have been an attempt at dangerous flirtation, since "Ping" is in fact a female), which I did not think my beauties were capable of, I had to segregate them. Placing "Pong" in the tiny little tank which had been his home, I prayed for his wounds to heal. Yet only a few short days past and he passed from my world. Tragically I had been away, but my beautiful silver treasure knew my love and went in peace. Still living was the spirited Ping.
From tiny tank to fish bowl, he lived for several months - until Christmas came. Then it was not only eultide cheer for myself, but also for my tiny "Ping". After nearly outgrowing his fish bowl (and his beautiful black tips), I was christened with a five-gallon fish tank. After a drop in Towers kitchen, which stunned my poor dear, but could not kill him - he lives on in his new upgraded home.
Still the most spirited goldfish I have ever known, and certainly strange enough to be called my own, and a passion to live on like no other fish I ever met - "Ping" swims about in a beautiful purple fish tank which will soon be graced with other swimming treasures, which I hope he will get along with better than with my dear "Pong", whom I dearly and constantly miss.
