Superb Owls
When I published the LBS two years ago, my buddy Brock said the proof that I “made it” would occur once a copy surfaced at Goodwill. Lo and behold, my pal Bruce stopped at the Avon location only to find a signed paperback, making me wonder which of the forty or so people who got a Hancocked one donated it. Despite my happiness that a stranger might take a one-dollar chance, Bruce expressed regret about our “disposable society” while ignoring how much he relishes combing through the disposed.
My best bud (Moore, beginning his thirty-fourth month of an eight-year prison term) and I used to chat endlessly on AIM (and later Gchat); he was supplanted by my buddy Rick until he moved from San Francisco to Jersadelphia. Luckily, a recent newfound friendship with Bruce has unveiled a fellow night owl with a taste for zany improv. Here are notes from my literary coronation.
“I ordered Mike Bloomfield’s latest CD.”
“From Caldor or Record Breaker or Media Play?”
“Korvettes.”
“The Future,” I said and included an ancient image of the store.
“Oh my gosh. That’s my dad’s car.”
“Looks like they took the back of an 18-wheeler & hammered it into the side of a wall. Didn’t your dad have a heart attack on the sports equipment aisle? Poor guy spilled tennis ball cannisters everywhere.”
…
“You should buy Ben the copy of my book at Goodwill.”
“Good suggestion.”
“As his wedding gift.”
“You’re on a hard roll. With cheese.”
“You like guitars, huh?”
“Yes. They don’t reject you.”
“Speaking of… I forgot to tell you this. Tonybytheway [a 58-year-old Music Outlet customer who loves chain restaurant sandwiches, meatloaf, and the radio] was in on Wednesday.”
“Did he buy Subway?”
“For some reason, as he cashed out, he started talking about kissing women’s necks & making out, which was a rare instance of making me a bit thrown off/speechless. He then added that he’s never had sex b/c he’s still waiting for the right woman.
‘Well, next time you’re out for an event, maybe you’ll meet a good man. I mean, maybe for the final third of your life you’re into dudes…’
‘NO! NO! NO! NO!’ he said while waving his arms. It was so funny & he shut right up.
Then he deepthroated a Subway steak & cheeze.”
“I give Tony credit for waiting for the right one.”
“I think he’s gonna end up a father of three.”
“Three what?”
“Adopted highways. The Bytheway Expressway, Absintence Avenue, & the Tony Toll.”
“Don’t forget Subway subway.”
“The co-founder of Subway [Peter Buck] died recently.”
“I thought he was part of R.E.M.”
“That’s him in the corner, that’s him in the spotlight, heating up a sandwich. I’m gonna introduce Tony to my mother. He’ll be my stepdad soon.”
“You’ll have to change your last name when he adopts you.”
“He’s gonna teach me how to drive stick & we’ll play catch on the weekends.”
“I was gonna tell you about a CD of jug band music I got that is pretty funny. You might even enjoy. I think Sue would get a laugh. Maria Muldaur is on it. It’s from the ‘60s.”
“Sue laughing at jug band music?!”
“It’s a cross between the Marx Brothers, vaudeville, and the Lovin’ Spoonful.”
“Very synesthetic. Good imagery comes from listening to jug band music.”
“I got it: you can play kazoo!!!!!!!!!!! Or a wash bucket bass. We can start a jug band revival. Tony, your dad, can play box drum or spoons. Or just his head like Curly in the Three Stooges. Ok? Gary can play banana skins.”
“A true Peel session.”
“Moore can play bars. And on unicorn horn: Sue.”
“What should we cover?”
“Daft Punk. And Hot Rocks.”
“We’ll do our ‘One More Time’ > ‘19th Nervous Breakdown’ > ‘Scarlet Begonias’ > ‘Fire on the Mountain’ suite.”
“Tony will shine on head.”
“He rubs castor oil on it. We’ll recreate scenes from the Monkees movie Head.”
“Tony can buy Subway after the show.”
“We could be called Tony & the Sweet Onion Sauce.”
“Gary’s opening line: ‘Am I happy to see you or is that half a banana in my pants?’ Are you buying Tony a Christmas present?”
“An Aretha Franklin RealDoll.”
“How about a girl made out of meatloaf?”
“Wonder what part of her he’d eat first.”
“The neck. I’m a vampire, baby. What did you do today, BUD?”
“I forgot to set my alarm & woke up at 11:30.”
“Instead of 11:15?”
“Feel like this jug band comp I’m listening to has 500 songs on it.”
“Yup. Mine that vein. Bleed it dry. Rag #125.”
“Alright, gonna saddle up the palomino & get ready to run errands. Bloody Rag #125.”
“Kotex #6.”
“Stuck Inside of a Bidet with Those Old Aunt Flo Bloody Pad Blues Again (Take 17).”
“Pick me up a fish and finger pie at Aldi.”
“Sounds like Tony on a first date.”
“Have fun. And if you can’t have fun, have a snack.”
Time to revisit the meaning of disposable.