Monday, September 14, 2009
Mixed Metaphorical Messages
I had two radio programs Saturday, followed by a surprise in-studio encounter with my old room-mate Dave, who was at the station to be interviewed on our local music show.
We hadn't seen each other for nearly ten years and at first he didn't recognize me- after the shock, we had a very manly and wholesomely heterosexual huggy- session, then he gazed at me with his deep, soulful eyes and said:
"Dude! You don't look like you...I mean, you look great! Like ten years younger instead of ten years older! What happened? "
"Well, once I opened up my heart to our Lord and Savior Jee..."
If I run into someone whom I have not seen since my morbidly obese and terminally intoxicated younger days, I can usually convince them that my 'recovery' is due to my conversion to some sort of organized cult - I love the looks of horror and dismay at these proclamations almost as much as I love the expressions of relief when I tell them I'm only kidding.
Sometimes I think that I must have a pretty fucked-up sense of humor .
But not as fucked-up as Dave's. This is a picture of Dave at work:
I don't think Dave even heard me start my bullshit story. I don't know why I even bothered to try -I was way out of my league, after all.
"You must have quit drinking", he observed.
"Yep. Four years last week."
"Awesome. I'm really glad to hear it. It looks good on you."
Dave was accompanied by the owner of a bar that I used to camp out at almost every night. The publican didn't recognize me at first either- and when he did, he told me that he was also glad that I had quit drinking, which seems like a strange thing for a barkeeper to tell a paying customer- but serves to illustrate what a mess I was back then.
It was a good day but it left me tired and unprepared for the imaginary phone call I received shortly after returning home. I was in the process of committing aggravated assault and battery on my computer ; I should have just let the damned phone keep ringing, but instead I compulsively snatched up the receiver and let my temper do the talking.
"What?", I barked rudely into the mouthpiece.
"Geez. Bite my head off, why don'tcha? You had better calm down because we need to talk."
It was Fancy calling and I knew that she was right, she always is. But I wasn't in the mood.
"Yeah, I know. Do you mind if I put you on hold until Monday night?"
"Well, as a matter of fac-"
Fancy possesses the sort of patience that you never see in real people, but she hates it when I cut her off, so I expected an earful of reprimands when I resumed our call two days later.
"Hey, I'm back. Sorry about the other day", I said, feeling sheepish.
"That's OK. What's the matter?", she asked, catching me off-guard. I had expected rage, not concern.
"Well, it's bothering me that I can hear voices in my head but I can't get my computer speakers to play music. Or it was bothering me...they are working now. Anyway, what's up?"
"I wanted to wish you a happy birthday."
"Thanks. Same to you. But that isn't until tomorrow."
"I know that, but at the pace you listen, it'll be tomorrow before you even hear what I'm saying today, so I thought I'd get a head-start and say it now. I should probably include Thanksgiving and Christmas while I'm at it."
"Can you speak up? I can't hear you over the sound of my neighbor thumping on the wall."
"Huh? Why is he thumping on the wall?"
"I don't know. I can hear him yelling but my guitar is really loud and I can't make out what he is saying."
Oops. The words had tumbled out before I could stop them.
"Guitar? Are you playing again?"
"Well...yes. But just a little and just one song. I played a D and a C is all...just two chords. I can handle it."
"Is that all? Are you sure?"
"I-I-I...well, I...I dropped the D. But it was on the other E string, so I'm not sure if that counts."
"It counts. Go on."
"Well... I just pulled my synthesizer out of mothballs...but I haven't plugged it in yet. I swear."
"Liar. I've been on hold for two days , during which time I've heard every sound you've made and every word you've said."
I was busted. There was nothing to do but confess.
"Well, OK. I give. I have been rubbing my electric guitar with a knife-sharpener ."
"A knife-sharpener? Why?"
"Because it sounds better than the knife...I can stop whenever I want to , but I don't want to now... can you hold on a second? Someone is at the door."
"Um, hey. The police are here. Can I call you back?"
The New Breakfast Snob , Sept.12 2009
Shivaree- Goodnight Moon(Live)
Robert Calvert- Aerospaceage Inferno
Neptune's Child (?)- Sam
Astronauts of Antiquity- Soup du Jour
Big Linda- Glass Onion
Cary Grace- Must Be Voodoo
Angelfish- The Sun Won't Shine
P.J. Harvey- Angelene
The Old Haunts- Not Hopeless
Cursive-I Couldn't Love You
Chris Huff- Then We're Dead
National Lampoon- Deteriata (Fluke of the Universe)
Faust- Stretch Out Time (excerpt)
Cary Grace-Between the Pages (excerpt)
Green Man- Tell Mama
Soft Machine- Why Am I So Short?
Shelley Morningsong- I Walk in Two Worlds
Clara Bellino- Peaceful Solution
John Cale- Mercenaries (Ready For War)
Frank Zappa- Excentrifugal Forz/Apostrophe
Patty Hurst Shifter- Promiscuous
Mythica- My Magdalene