Can't Spell 'Vacuum' Without Two of You

 I'm not even sure who I am anymore. For the length of a grueling three-day business trip, I was Mr. Together, a real cool cucumber who doesn't sweat or worry no matter how much pressure he's under or how dire the situation is. Mr. Together always has a kind word for his peers and he's astonishingly calm in the face of other's panic.When Mr. T tells you that things are gonna be OK, you can take it to the bank.

I have no idea who this Mr. T guy is; the me that I'm used to seeing is the one who can be  brought  to a state of tearful incapacitation by the faintest first note of a lightly strummed minor chord and paralyzed with sorrow by a Facebook eulogy to a virtual stranger's dog. A real sap.

I expected some sort of depressive transformation once the job was done and I had time to grossly misjudge just how truly awful my life is. On the long ride home Friday, I stared through the window of my train, waiting for the misery to kick in. I was braced for the expected emotional impact of my own wayward thoughts, not exactly tense but not exactly mellow either.

After a half-hour had passed without any nascent despair, I ventured to the 'Cafe Car' for a cup of Amtrak coffee. If anything will make you miserable, it's a cup of Amtrak coffee coupled with the permeating, rubbery smell of microwaved cheeseburgers and the passengers who eat such fare- but this time the java tasted OK and the woman in front of me in line smelled good, like clean sheets and warm sun. Perplexed, I returned to my seat and waited for the train to derail. It didn't.

When I finally got to the station, I was surprised to find that I hadn't left my car lights on and that my battery wasn't dead. The sight of four fully inflated tires failed to inspire the slightest bit of anxiety. The car started right up and the late-night traffic was light on the short and shockingly uneventful drive home.

Home held no trauma, it was just as I left it, save for the not-unexpected presence of my imaginary friend Fancy. She was sitting on my couch, thumbing through my journal.

"Hi", I said.

"The Universe lives inside of you and what appear to be the pinpoint lights of distant stars  are in fact the faintly glimmering last rays of your lost hopes reflecting off the tiny yet infinitely broken shards of your shattered dreams and scattered personalities", replied Fancy.

"Says you", I said by way of clever retort.

"No, you said that-well, you wrote it. It's right here after this awful poem..."

I snatched the notebook away from her, looked at the pages and read a few lines to myself.

"Wow. This really is dreadful."

Fancy nodded and we laughed together until she was gone.


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THE NEW BREAKFAST SNOB, MARCH 19, 2011

Hot Tuna - Water Song

Planet Gong- Floating Anarchy

Gong- Oily Way/Outer Temple

ELP- Trilogy

Genesis- Can-Utlity and the Coastliners

Be Bop Deluxe- Japan

Stranglers- Nuclear Device

Stranglers- Something Better Change

Jeannine Hebb- Things Haven't Been So Bad Lately

Gary Numan- Engineers

Dave Cousins- Tears and Pavan

The Duhks- Mighty Storm

Lost in the Trees- Song For The Painter

Patti Smith- Wave

Allan Coberly- Fall and Reflect (demo version)

Monday Machines- Ruined Morning

Cursive- I Couldn't Love You

Golden Palominos- Faithless Heart

Capt. Beefheart- Same Old Blues

Peter Green - Fool No More

Ten Years After- Tomorrow I'll Be Out of Town

Robert Fripp- I May Not Have Enough of Me but I've Had Enough of You

Ozric Tentacles- Thyroid

3/19/2011 Podcast download here.

Archives here.

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Mulberry Bush

My cellphone is old, clunky and low on minutes but it works well enough to call my imaginary friend, Fancy. It's 3 am in the morning but I have a feeling she is awake.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"You again? Geez, that's like twice in one week. What's the matter this time? Someone cut you off in traffic? Did a cashier hurt your feelings by not offering you paper instead of plastic?"

"Um, no."

"Well, what then?"

"I kinda fucked up."

I could hear the grin spread across her face as I said this...for years, I have been on the receiving end of Fancy's neurotic circus-of-calamity calls, usually in the wee hours, and I have almost always been somewhat rude and sarcastic to her. Now it's her turn to do the mocking and she's enjoying it, gauging how far she can push it.

"Oh, boy. Let me guess. You fell off the wagon, went to Vegas and now you're married to your rock chick friend, the one who drinks those malt liquor energy drinks. Well, good luck."

"Er...no."

"OK...you fell off the wagon , went to a Star Trek convention and got married to Cousin Dee in a ceremony performed by the Captain of a Klingon warship."

"But Dee is my cousin. And leave wagons and hitching out."

"Not a cousin by blood. And Dee is a hermaphrodite", she continued on, oblivious to my mounting discomfort, "so the two of you could probably get hitched in West Virginia or Vermont, your call."

"Dee is a herma...?"

"You didn't know? Yeah, let me tell you about the first time I found out..."

"Please. Don't."

"Besides" , I continued, "that's not it. It's Alicia. She broke a promise to me on my birthday."

"Alicia? Yeah...that was what , nine, ten years ago? Get over it. How can she still matter? Tell me how."

So I told her what I had done and waited for the burst of laughter that I was sure to follow. Fancy shook her imaginary head in real dismay.

"Dude. You aren't smart enough to second-guess yourself, so stop trying. Stop over-thinking so much...it's making you under-think. I mean, yeah, you are a dunce, but think of this: if what you created had such a profound, albeit unwanted, effect, then once-upon-a-time you must have been able to tap into something incredibly powerful. Maybe you could find that tap again, only without fucking up this time.
And don't double-track your vocals until you learn how to sing in key. Because you sucked at that."

"Say", I told her, "I hadn't looked at it like that. That's pretty good advice...sometimes you make perfect sense. I wonder why none of my friends like you- you really aren't that bad."

"WHAT?! Who doesn't like me? What did they say? Tell me!"

"Uh, nothing much...I mean...um..."

"Oh, geez. Lighten up. I was only kidding, anyway. Although that guy down the street who can see me is starting to creep me out with his yelling. What's his deal? Is he imaginary too?"

"Scotty? He's schizophrenic, homeless and can't afford his meds...plus he has Tourette's syndrome. You guys should hook up", I said with sudden inspiration.

"Yeah", she said," is he around now? I'll pop by."

"Not now, but he'll be picking up the neighborhood cans around dawn."

"Great! I'll see you then!"

"I hope not", I said, reverting to form.