A Call From Dead Kenn

I don't see dead people but my caller ID does. I was in the middle of composing an email when my phone rang, the LCD screen displaying a cryptic epitaph: the name of a dead friend and a string of numbers.

Kenn died in 9747? , I wondered, looking at the last four digits. I figured it was more like 2006.

"Hello?", I answered with some trepidation.

"Al!", bellowed a ghost. I said I don't see dead people. I never said I don't hear them. I knew that this was a ghost on my phone because everyone who has ever called me 'Al' in real-life is...well...let's just say, don't call me 'Al'.

I'm kidding. Even when Kenn was alive, it was OK for him to call me 'Al'. From him, I didn't mind being called Al, it was part of his big, simple-minded redneck charm. The fact that I always called him 'Keh' seemed to elude him- or perhaps he thought I had a speech impediment and was too polite to mention it.

In any case, it's not every day that I get calls from beyond the grave. That's a bi-weekly affair at best and it's usually a wrong number...but here was Dead Kenn calling for me- at home.

"Kenn, are you dead?", I inquired with a skeptic's tact.

"Nope!"

"And you aren't in prison?"

"Nope!"

I mulled over this string of improbabilities.

"How, if you don't mind me asking, is that even possible?"

Kenn was the sort of guy used to wake up in the morning and take shots of peppermint schnapps in a vain attempt to mask the acrid smell of crack cocaine emanating from his pores. Kenn used to know where all the worst parts of town where, especially at 3 am. Kenn and I have have a lot in common, including a mutual dismay that we are both still alive.

"Well," Kenn explained," I haven't used heroin for almost five years- and except for one mistake, no coke either. Quitting saved my life. Anyway, I just found this old list of names and I thought I call some of them...you'd be surprised how many of them are dead now. I was sure you were one of them."

"I almost was", I told him. We verified the status of a few old friends and then I gave Kenn the short version of my own near-death experience and subsequent sobriety.

"Al, that's great! I can't believe we are having this conversation now...I mean, we were seriously into self-loathing back then, weren't we? Death wish, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess you could call it that", I said,reflecting on long evenings spent trying to find the "perfect buzz"... enough powerful stimulants to make things crystal clear for days balanced with enough narcotics and alcohol to "take the edge off" and keep the pulse down.

Looking back, I musta had one hell of an "edge" back then, because it usually took 16 beers, a nose-full of heroin and a fifth of vodka to "take it off."

Anyway, Kenn's not nearly as dead as his friends thought he was. In fact, he sounds downright chipper. His call left me in a good mood and I'm hoping to visit him soon.

Then the office called. Training has been postponed again- but this time it's only been pushed back 30 minutes. Whew!


Excitement to follow.

The Good, the Bad and Her Ugly Face Again

The Good: I found a new apartment that is only a few miles from where I live now, but much, much cheaper...at $49.95 per month, I'm considering renting two rooms and calling it a suite...I can build a bunk bed in one room and put my desk under it and I'll use the other room to store my useless crap in. I only have one item of furniture (an antique buffet cabinet), so it's not as if I need much room...and my rent will decrease by six hundred dollars a month, which means I can resume eating. Plus, it's only a block away from the radio station, which has a kitchen , shower and indoor plumbing.



The Bad: Former NFL star Steve McNair was shot and killed Saturday by his 20-year old girlfriend, who then apparently shot herself. McNair was a tough-ass, competitive player, known for playing despite having serious injuries such as broken ribs and busted knees...injuries forced him to retire after 13 seasons but he had quite a respectable career,including playing in a Super Bowl that his team lost by one yard. That was heartbreaking.

McNair was sacked for a total of 254 times during his career - big, burly armored dudes were always trying to tackle him- but in the end, all it took was one bad relationship to bring him down forever.

I suppose there are worse things to die from than loneliness.

There is togetherness, for example. Instead of feeling sorry for myself for having a solitary "holiday", I should be thankful that I didn't get food poisoning at a picnic or murdered after a post-party quickie.






Sarah Palin's Latest Major Malfunction:

Sarah Palin just resigned as Governor of Alaska, citing, among other things, the fact that Alaska has investigated / is currently investigating over a dozen ethics complaints against her- she said she didn't want Alaskans to be burdened with the cost of these investigations- which are going to cost the same amount regardless of her job status- she also said this:

"I thought about how much fun some governors have as lame ducks: travel around the state, to the Lower 48, maybe, overseas on international trade -- as so many politicians do," Palin mused. "And then I thought: That's what's wrong. Many just accept that lame-duck status, hit the road, draw the paycheck and 'milk it.' I'm not putting Alaska through that."

Um, dude-lady, what is stopping you from eschewing all that "lame-duck" frivolity and just sticking with your job duties? I mean, other than the fact that you never really did them in the first place? Besides, what you describe above sounds an awful lot like campaigning for national office...

If, as some are wondering, this is a political move designed to help bolster Palin's chances at a 2012 White House run, it sure is an odd gambit. Imagine the bumperstickers:

-PALIN 2012-2014 1/2!

- SARAH 2012: BECAUSE AMERICA LOVES A QUITTER!

- PALIN 2012: THE BUCK NEVER STOPS

-(on Palin's car) THEY'RE PICKING ON ME!

Seriously, if you can't handle being "bullied" by the American press, you obviously don't have the spine required to fight terrorism...Osama bin-Laden is not intimidated by Katie Couric- ya know that, dontcha?

I have some theories:

- Someone (probably Satan) has offered her an enormous amount of money, money that she cannot legally accept while holding elected office. Being possessed of more avarice than patience, she bailed on her elected job because she wants her money now. All those clothes McCain bought for her in 2008 are waaay out of style, ya know?

- She did something really, really bad and she knows that it's only a matter of time before she gets busted for it...I mean, eventually, someone, somewhere, is going to realize that Alaska, which enforces State-controlled re-distribution of production revenue to individual citizens in the form of an annual check, is a borderline Socialist state- albeit a rather flush one.

Socialism, as campaigner Palin was fond of pointing out, is Bad.

Luckily for her, her supporters (like many Americans) can't offer up so much as a cursory definition of Socialism, only the vague but certain idea that it is Bad. Ooooo...scary!

- She wants to spend more time with her family. You betcha!

In any case, one of her supporters had this to say, emphasis added:

“And she has a following that will jump in front of a plane for her,” said John Coale, a lawyer who helped create her political action committee.


Dude, that is an odd choice of words. Very odd.

Personally, I am more than a little wary of political leaders with followers that are willing to use airplanes to commit suicide. There's an ugly precedent for that.

Walk On

I have a friend who is destroying their self in exactly the same ways that I once destroyed myself.
My advice to them ("stop what you are doing") has strained our friendship to the point where I don't know that it still exists.
I want to help them.
I know that I can't.
Do I watch them die or do I walk on?
*********************************************

I hear some people been talkin' me down
Bring up my name, pass it 'round.
They don't mention happy times
They do their thing, I'll do mine.

Ooh baby, that's hard to change
I can't tell them how to feel.
Some get stoned, some get strange,
But sooner or later it all gets real.

Walk on, walk on,
Walk on, walk on.

I remember the good old days,
Stayed up all night gettin' crazed.
Then the money was not so good,
But we still did the best we could.

Ooh baby, that's hard to change
I can't tell them how to feel.
Some get stoned, some get strange,
But sooner or later it all gets real.

Walk on, walk on,
Walk on, walk on.

-Neil Young