Here’s a surreal exchange that I witnessed today at the tire store. The following conversation took place between the only three people behind the counter.
OLDMAN 1: (loud enough to be heard by all in earshot) They say that Social Security will be bone dry by the year 2020.
OLDMAN 2: ( equally as loud) They do, do they?
OLDMAN 1: That’s right. That’s what they said alright.
OLDMAN 2: Well, I’m not worried, I’ll be dead by then
OLDMAN 1: Well, what about our grandkids? Won’t be nothing left for the young uns.
OLDMAN 2: (replying to Smiles but staring eerily directly at me) It won’t matter anyway because the Lord will be back. He’ll be back and start the 1000 year war and he’ll take care of everything.
OLD WOMAN: What was that song that I used to sing with my grandmother? (begins humming and then breaks into a song describing the day that the Lord will return - presumably to save then from the woes of an empty Social Security chest. ).
It was then, that I realized that my tires were purchased at Jesus’s Tire Shack. And that they would probably outlast Social Security.
The sun that rotates around planet 1412 every 38 years? No.
A new breakfast cereal called “Spike” intended for consumption for unruly children? - “Curb your Tyke with Spike” - No.
Perhaps it’s something that will appear on every television and video screen known to mankind at exactly the same second and telepathically communicate with and eerie and echoing voice, “I am Zorthac. Prepare to worship me”.
It’s POLLEN - and it is what has been making my breathing a miserable hell for the last couple of weeks.
How can something so hideous come from something so lovely as this?
Cruel wicked nature…..alas.
Besides that however, today I am off to Philadelphia
to pick up my artwork from my last exhibit. The weather is supposed to be lovely, and if we don’t have a flat tire like last time….
All should be well. The exhibit went as well as could be expected - considering the curator FORGOT TO SEND OUT ANY PRESS RELEASES AND POSTCARDS!!!!
But he's new to the biz - and forgiven. I did get some very good press in Philadelphia Style Magazine from my work at Metro Living however. So that is a good thing. By the way, www.ionone.com picked me as their American Artist of the month for April. Now that was cool.....
My incredible friend Mandy (who’s blog you can find under my links to the right), has an acute fondness for Stevie Nicks. While I am a big fan of Stevie as well, most of my fondness would fall towards big stars of the silver screen - and one of the biggest of them all was Joan Crawford.
It is true that she was bit whacko, especially towards the end when she was trapped in a self-illusionary world where she still considered herself to be the beauty siren of the stage and screen living in a world where any man would fall to her feet in praise. (as seen in this ghoulish still from one of her thankfully last films Beserk!").
That young fellow is actually supposed to be Joan’s lover and he has just killed the beautiful blonde trapeze vixen to prove it to her. Uh huh. It doesn’t hurt that Joan’s character in this film just happens to own the traveling circus where the blonde himbo works.
If you do happen to catch this mind-numbingly bad film one late night, make sure that you have sufficiently prepared your brain with your favorite drug of choice beforehand in order to capture and savoir every nuance. Like this scene where Joan confronts the blonde (soon to be dead) trapeze artist - who happens to look like an albino Flip Wilson.
Just one glance at Joan in that outfit with that stance means trouble! Check out the very upset pretty boy in the back - you know what he’s thinking - “that dame’s gotta big mouth alright, and if she keeps shooting it off, I’m gonna loose my meal ticket”. Alas. The blonde, by the way is palyed by Diana Dors - who actually did have an amazing life. Read about it here:
But this is all besides the point. When she was in her prime, Joan was just so “it” that she couldn’t be touched. Mandy also shared with me a hilarious story about when she went trick or treating in the 8th grade dressed as Joan Crawford. Brave little girl! Perhaps she will post it on her blog. I must beg her. It’s a story rife with idol worship gone astray and the vengeful punishing spirit of an icon from yesteryear. Perfect Halloween fodder! Yikes!
Gosh. Don’t you just hate it when the words in the image above come flying out of your mouth? Seems like it happens all of the time. I ran across this image on the net and I just couldn’t pass it up. So, of course, I had to come up with a few “situations” where someone would ponder that question…..like
Throwing your fiancé’s wedding dress in the wash with your oily overalls
Confusing the box of vintage Hustler magazines with the box of new comic books earmarked for the Toys for Tots campaign.
Placing your new eco-friendly recipe “Sun Chicken” ( a lot like Sun Tea - only different ) on the buffet line at the annual 4th of July family reunion.
Celebrating your promotion to Vice President at the software development company where you work by becoming so drunk at an investor appreciation party held by the board members of the company that you pass out on the dance floor and urinate upon yourself while your wife screams “I knew this would happen - you do this every fucking time!”.
Ouch. That one I have seen happen with my own eyes. Poor chap.
Well, there you go. Fill free to comment or email me any more additions to the timeless question of the day.
The above image is a detail of a pen and ink image found on page 3 of my Visual Journal. Click it to see the entire image.
But that isn't the point of this post. This is about dreams. In particular,those freakin' dreams that wake you up screaming in the middle of the night.
If you've had them, then you know what I'm talking about. If not, then consider yourself lucky.
Think of the one horror flick that you have seen that frightened you beyond belief. Now, take that same film, multiply the fear and horror by about 20 and cast yourself in the lead. What fun! That's what they are like.
I usually only remember the dream that comes right before the scene that wakes me up screaming vaguely, but the scene itself is totally vivid, in complete brilliant color. They don’t happen as often as they used to, but they still occur on occasion.
So, the scene from last night goes like this. I’m in my old bedroom (circa 20 something years ago) in the house that I grew up in. I’m just hanging out in bed daydreaming. Suddenly, my younger brother and an unidentifiable friend of his come rushing in the room. They have very stern and serious expressions on their faces. I of course ask them what’s wrong.
“We have proof now” they say, now their expressions have changed into, lets say, someone who happened to accidentally stumble into little Regan’s bedroom during a moment of possession and levitation.
(Oh…I’m sorry - I thought this was the bathroom…) So, he whips out a digital camera and takes my photo, spins it around to show me the image and says “See” - very ominously.
Of course, in the photo is myself on the bed, and about 5 inches behind me is the contorted face of some ghoulish demon man straight from hell ready to suck out my soul as some sort of macabre appetizer before the goat sacrifice. What fun!
Quick - Wake up screaming!!!! Wake up screaming!!!!
I don’t know why I had such a dream and I don’t want to know. I do know that I’ve had about what seems to be 45 minutes of sleep and 8,000 things to do today. Alas. What is the lesson here: Hmmm… the next time your brother wants to take a quick snapshot of you with the digital cam - just say no.
So, even though I have tried to enter into this foray of blogging twice before with disappointing results, I'm back and more determined than ever to .... to...um... well - I'm not sure yet. But, whatever it is, and - I don't know - it just feels like the right time and the right thing to do. I'm going to do it.
Yep. Right now...this very second.
This is it...so, you better just , you know, be ready or something.
Because, well, this is it....you know.
Screw it. Here goes. I just watched the end of an old Mae West flick on the Turner Movie Classic channel (which I happen to think is brilliant by the way). And I have to admit, there was something vaguely disturbing about her that had not bothered me before, and what's weirder is that I can't put my finger on it. The film was "She Done Him Wrong" from 1933.
Now, what I don't get was that I had seen this film before, maybe 10 times in my life at different occasions and I thought nothing of it. It was Mae West doing Mae West. But this time something was different. Her sexuality in the film seemed so forced and unreal that it was actually disturbing to me. She would sort of shimmy and roll her eyes back in her head sligghlty like a junkie whenever there was there was the slightest possibility of getting laid.
It seemed to drive the men in the film crazy. In fact, one man even broke out of prison to be near her. Though oddly enough, it didn't seem to bother that fellow that when she came to visit him in the "slammer" all of the other inmates were very well acquainted with her. They all knew her by name and she walked from cell to cell spreading innuendo like manure before she actually made it to the cell of her former beaux.
The implication that she had laid each of the inmates was unmistakable.
Though, let me make it clear that her sexual escapes didn't bother me - I'm no prude. It was the way her character delivered her lines. She was almost like James Cagney in drag.
It was almost difficult to watch. So - now of course, I'm wondering about sexuality in the 30's when the film was made. Was her characterization the type that turned men on? If so, why? Perhaps something will pop into my head about it - in the meantime check out this....http://www.lileks.com/