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Thursday, October 28, 2010

Wherein I Try to Live Solely in My Head, or Who's Walter Mitty?

Sometimes, when the going gets tough, the tough get going.

And sometimes, when the going gets tough, the tough retreat to the comforts of their own heads and drink bottles of imaginary beer there.

This is not to say, of course, that I am not rooted in reality a good deal of the time. As has been noted (primarily by me), I am the Queen of Side Jobs, She Who Will Clean Your Bathroom for Cash. I may clean a house on weekends or “butler” appetizers to people who will hand me used Kleenex without embarrassment or acknowledging my existence, but there’s no reason I have to do these things with 100% of my brain engaged.

Which brings me to my fantasy life.

Have I told you about my fantasy life, the one where I awake each day with a spring in my step? It’s nice. The crabgrass is always under control and the air smells like fresh sheets.

My current fantasy involves my heroic efforts to save my fellow bus passengers.

Come along won’t you? It’s totally safe!

It’s an early-morning commute when the bus is hijacked by gang members of sketchy design. What they want is unclear. Perhaps they want us all to wear baggier pants. Perhaps it’s a tattoo drive of some sort: “I Was Hijacked And All I Got Was This Lousy Tattoo”. Whatever it is, it is murky at this point and unimportant to the fantasy itself.

Where was I?

Oh, yes. Hushed cell phone calls are clandestinely placed by those unlucky enough to be aboard, and in no time at all local news vans are following at a safe distance. Eventually of course, the bus runs out of gas and we are forced to sit at the edge of the road as people get hungrier and the need for a restroom becomes more pronounced. Demands for pizza and port-a-potties are unmet. During the panic and uncertainty of the day, my cool head and ability to relate comes to the fore; and it is the skillful offer of my iPod to the head guy (“Just to relax. Just a song or two to help you get your head together.”) that eventually convinces the leader to give up.

Perhaps it was Willie Nelson’s “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain”. Perhaps it was James Brown’s “Sex Machine”. Whatever the song was, the man has had a change of heart; and the news vans film our triumphant and injury-free exodus.

“Haven’t we all had enough?” he tearfully exclaims. The hijackers hold their arms out for the handcuffs; and the leader mouths the words “see you in court” at me, a rueful smile on his lips as the cameras roll…

Later, as the Mayor of Minneapolis presents me with a key to the city, I make a heartfelt plea for civility and brotherhood, reminding everyone of the tenuous bonds between human beings. The speech is met with cheers, and flowers land at my feet in aromatic and sneeze-inducing hillocks. Following this event, there is a sharp increase in babies named “Pearl”, pearl jewelry experiences a surge in popularity unseen since the Kennedys, and for months afterwards, I am met with cheers and free food and drink…

And then, as they say, she woke up.

22 comments:

Grant said...

Reality is vastly overrated.

Douglas said...

Weirdly, I can picture this actually happening someday.

savannah said...

you been watching speed again, honey> ;~D xoxoxox

Green Girl in Wisconsin said...

But why not? I think your dream is preparing you for your moment of great heroics.

Symdaddy said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Symdaddy said...

Ah, yes! The safety of ones own head. I don't use my head as a refuge very often ... because of that man with the balls ... no, not THOSE balls ... the big one and the small one ... he's in there!
If you ever meet this guy in your own head and he offers you a choice of ball ... take the BIG one, cos the little one is sooooo damned heavy and once you've picked one, he's gonna ask you to carry it up that big hill; that there ... just by your Thalamus ... or was it your Corpus Collusum? ... whatever!

Erm.....!

Sorry, Pearl.

What was it you were saying?

Pearl said...

Even given the choice of the large ball or the small ball -- and Symdaddy, you do amuse me! -- I think I'll stay in my head. Have you seen all the WEATHER there is out there lately?! As someone once said, sure, everybody talks about the weather, but no one does anything about it!

Pearl

Gigi said...

I have total confidence that you and your iPod could talk a crazed bus hi-jacker down

Sausage Fingers said...

Drinking at night again?

Big Fat Gini said...

Some days, Fantasy Land is much, much more appealing that Reality Land. It's kind of like when you think your parents are going to surprise you with a trip to Disney World but instead, you end up going to Six Flags. Again.

Sweet Cheeks said...

You realize Liza Bean Bitey (of the Minneapolis Biteys) would never put up with your 'attention drawing' fame in real life, don't you? Afterall, she is a wanted cat in several countries. Having said that, it wouldn't surprise me if Liza gives you a stern talking to after she reads this about blowing her cover. On the other hand, I bet Dolly Gee Squeakers (formerly of the Humane Society Squeakers) begs you to take her on your bus rides from now on, so she can 'get in' on the action.
=]

mrwriteon said...

I want you on my bus when it's hijacked. You know what to do. And I bet your mom is proud to be Mother of Pearl. She should be.

Eva Gallant said...

I think I was on that bus!

RawknRobynsGoneBlogWild said...

Your head is brilliantly altruistic and eloquent. Imagine if you handed him an iPAd. I've think you've got a series in the works, here.
I always love your posts. Every line is full of fun. xo

Rene/ Not The Rockefellers said...

I am so glad no one said this yet...

and the brass band played pocketa, pocketa, pocketa

Argent said...

I have a similar fantasy - only in mine, the bus somehow drives through an interdimensional portal to an alien earth that's completely different from ours. I display all kinds of leadership skills organising everyone so that their abilities are all made best use of ("is there a doctor on the bus?"). In real life I bet I'd be utterly useless.

Loz said...

Ahhhh...fantasy :)

Jhon Baker said...

the majority of our memories are bull shit anyway - i.e. we remember things how we would like to remember them which is why happy people have happier memories and, well, folks like me don't - there is more to it than that but what the hell - if your brain is going to grandly alter the memory anyway - go all out I say.

Boom Boom Larew said...

I can just imagine you, Pearl, leading the charge to liberate your fellow passengers! Kudos!

Irish Gumbo said...

Well, now that you are awake, come on down to my neck of the woods and the food and drink are on me. Hey, its the least I can do for a fellow traveler in the Playground of the Mind! :)

HermanTurnip said...

Wait...that sounds *suspiciously* like how I spent last Saturday. Were on the same bus?!

Oh, and don't let anyone tell you any different. James Brown's Sex Machine is one of his finest offerings. It's a powerful offering from the Godfather himself. I consider myself lucky to have seen him perforce on two separate occasions. There will never be another like him.

dogimo said...

Pearl - I'm constantly foiling muggings! Even the muggings of people I don't particularly like. I can't help myself, I'll see a mugging, foil it, turn around to see who I've saved..."Oh." "It's you." "Pardon me."

@Rene/Not the Rock - ahaha! You took my pocketa pocketa pocketa! But I was very late to the party, so. Well-played!