09 February 2009

Jawing With Mr. Gibbous

Oh, shit, time to step outside. I could have sworn the side walls of the living room were starting to move in on me. Just like the scene from “Star Wars” where Luke and Han Solo and Princess Leia and that fookin’ Chewbacon, or Chewbacca or whatever were almost two-dimensionalized by a giant garbage compactor. Why are they essentially in a big freakin’ Kenmore appliance? It’s the Death Star. Biggest, most badass Machine O’ Destruction in the Galaxy, and they use compactors? What, no high-power Garbage Incineration ray? What kind of engineering morons were they?

Focus, man, focus. Outside, that’s where I was headed. Wait a minute, I’m already outside. What was I thinking? “That’s your problem, son you weren’t thinkin’!” I hear the bellow of my Little League baseball coach from long ago. After all these years and that jerkface still gets On My Nerves. We won a lot of games that year, but at the cost of being coached by Joseph Stalin’s less-talented younger brother.

Already, I digress. I didn’t come here to bitch and moan about Little League or nonsensical plot points. I just…I…fuck me, what am I trying to say? I take a deep breath of the cold air, and it perks me up. A little. It’s not Arctic Night brand cold, it usually doesn’t get that way here just outside of Mobtown, in the Land of Pleasant Living. But it is cold enough. I look up at the moon through a thin haze of Breath Fog, and it occurs to me the moon is gibbous. “Waxing gibbous”, I believe. I remember tons of trivia like that, and gibbous is when the moon is more than half but less that completely full, right? And waxing, that’s when the moon is heading towards full, right? Shit, I don’t know. I’ll tell you what, I’ll call him Mr. Gibbous for purposes of this transcript. And I just noticed I seemed to have picked a case of the Shift Key Palsy*. Damn, I thought I was Immunized. Looks like I’ll have to crack the seal on some 15-year old Antidote, fo shizzle.

But like I said, I’m outside. I’m looking at Mr. Gibbous (henceforth known as G.) stuck in the sky over my head like the miner’s lamp of God, and he’s staring at me. All one-eyed and, well, gibbous lookin’. The night is quieter than usual, the typical dull roar of I-95 reduced to a whisper. A monotone whisper that sounds a little bit like voices. Voices that make me uneasy. The night air is close, almost thick, like a cold silk bag slowly closing over my body.

Damnit, I find myself wanting a cigarette**. Don’t know why that is, I just do. Something Cool and Full of Bad Decisions***. Tobacco smoke gives me a serious case of the Quivering Bowels and the Yammering Fantods, so actually lighting up would fall in the category of Truly Bad Ideas. I probably just need something to do with my hands while I think.

G looks a little while longer, and he says to me “Irish, bro, what’s up?”

I manage to remain calm. Collected, even. Bastard scared the shit out of me. I twiddle my fingers on the imaginary cigarette I’m holding.

“G, I don’t know. I’m in a funk. A head. A Brown Study, the old timers used to call it, I think.”

Moon man considers this. “You hit a wall or something? You got the Look. Like someone who just stepped in front of a bus. Or someone listening to that version of ‘Rowboat’ by Johnny Cash.”

I laughed. “That’s funny. Yeah, it feels like that. I have been so goddamn busy lately, so much filling up my Nogginspace, I can’t get it all out fast enough,” G nods, or nods as much as a spherical object can nod, “Feels like a full-blown case of blivetitis.”

G paused. “Blivetitis? You talkin’ nonsense more than usual, chico.”

“A blivet” I say, all sage-like, “you know, ten pounds of excreta in a five-pound bag?”
“Oh. That’s a new one on me.”
“Well, suffice to say, that’s what my head is.”
“You do look a little…inflated…if I may be so bold. Have you tried writing all this shit down, maybe talk to some people?”
“You mean talking to someone beyond the guy who works at the liquor store where I get the Guinness and the lottery tickets? Yeah, I’ve been trying that. It’s good, but….” I trailed off.

G said “Liquor Store Larry is a nice guy, but a thirty second transaction is no way to Relieve Oneself of One’s Burdens. C’mon, spill it, bro.”

G was right. No way retail therapy was going to help this. Plus, being as Employmentally Challenged as I was at the moment, I wasn’t exactly in a position to be embarking on my own local Economic-Stimulus-Plan. I sighed, invisible cigarette between my lips, invisible pint glass in hand.

“I have been of a mind lately, to bare my soul, let it all hang out, air out the ghosts and demons so to speak. Its exhausting business, ya? And there is a lot of Good Folk who have been helping me with this exercise in Finding The Buddha. And I am ever thankful for that.” I paused. There was a skittering sound from the stand of trees just down slope. Squirrels, fox, rabbit: neither I nor G could expand upon that aural happenstance.

“The problem is most of them folks are far away in Space, and therefore, outside of my particular physical sphere of Actuality.”
“Sphere of Actuality? What, pray tell, is that?”
“It means they aren’t in the same room with me. It means that most of them are remote enough as to make a Chance Encounter or Spontaneous Meeting out of the question.”
“I see. This bothers you, I take it.”

“G, anyone ever tell you, you’re an ‘effin genius? Sorry, dude, that’s unfair. I’m...Tense. Jittery, in the style of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Yeah, it bothers me.”

Twenty, thirty, forty heartbeats make themselves useful by pushing the flood of Memories I call a bloodstream through the viaducts lacing under my skin. The cigarette twirls again.

“Bothered, indeed. And I think I know why.”
“Illuminate me, O twisted One” G chuckles, “hey, illuminate, that’s funny! Get it?”
“Yeah, fuckin’ laugh riot. Riiiotttt. Now, shush and let me ‘splain.” I took a mental pull from the pint.

“See, I use to not put much credence in the importance of Face-to-Face communications, the power of Touch, as the greeting card makers might say. To me, it was all just data and information. Words and such, they mattered in the utility of themselves, not what they could mean beyond the surface. The People, they flummoxed me if the talk got beyond the obvious face value.” I noticed my hands were beginning to shake.

I continued “But that didn’t matter, see, because I had purpose, as defined by my chosen Career Path, and nothing else had the top spot.” My voice was quivering. G made a small noise, like rocks grinding over each other. He said “Mistake, I take it.”

“Yeah, you could say that. Let me break it down for you. See, this whole World Wide Web and Chat and Twitter and Facebook and Gmail mulligatawny I’ve been consuming by the gallon these days is a fine meal, indeed. I have been getting my Recommended Dailies of conversation and love and respect and Funny Shit. Fine folks all over this big blue marble we call home...”

I don’t finish the sentence because my throat tightens around a bolus made of Cold Night Air mixed with Gratitude. I choke and cough. G tactfully holds his silence. The muscles work in a furious spasm to get around the words clogging my larynx.

“Folks have been mighty kind to me. Without the benefit of Electronics, I never would have made Acquaintances that I find indispensable now.”

“But there is a catch, G.” How to ‘splain?
“Computers and fiberops are great, I dig it. But, at heart I’m a Bricks and Mortar man.”

“Fitting” G chuckles, “given that you were an Architect.” Were? I think. Then it hit me. G-money was right. Were.

“G, it’s like this. Bricks and Mortar, in the trade, that translates to ‘Physical Manifestation’ if I may sling some lingo. Electrons and Data and all that abstract shit, I’ve had my fill. I want Hands On, I want Face to Face. I want to share Breath and Salt, to get all Arab-like.”

“I want to shake some hands, give some hugs and tell people In the Flesh just how much they mean to me. And I owe a few pints, too.”

G laughed, low like an earthquake. Rather, a moonquake. “That’s a tall order, chico. I don’t reckon as I can help you with that. I’m sorry.”

“You shine on them like you shine on me, right?” I asked.
G pondered that for a bit. He nods again. “Yeah, I do. Why?”
“Well, when you shine, tell them I love them, I wish I could share some air with them.”
“I’ll do my best, bro.”

I took a final drag on that invisible cigarette, stubbed it out on the deck rail, and flicked it over the side. The pint glass was down to a lovely skein of Belgian lace, clinging to the sides. I set it down on the rail as I looked up to G.

“Thanks, man. That’s all I ask” I said, turning to go back inside. The moon slid slowly down the dome of Heaven, love diffusing in an argentine glow.

*That cIII, he’s got Thunder in his head, he does.
**I can also blame this on cIII. Just about every time I
read one his posts, I want a smoke.
***Thanks, cIII. I owe you one.
NOTE: I almost forgot the Contest. Speaking of gratitude, many thanks to Captain Dumbass for this reminder - I lifted this from his post of today: "Before we go anywhere, make sure you stop by The Wise (*Young*) Mommy today. It's the start of the He Said/She Said pissing contest. Confused? Just go. Well, not yet. I mean, read me first, right. Today's contenders are Cajoh and Irish Gumbo. There will be blood." SO, go! Read! Vote on Thursday!


  1. It'll come. Soon chico. There is a reason for every journey. Your's will become apparent.

  2. Ah, a wise one that G huh? It seems you've figured out all you need is people. Where to find the people beats the heck out of me, I live in country where I don't even speak the language.

    Great story though. Wouldn't it be cool if it actually happened? Off to see your entry for the contest...

  3. We love you, too, you know.


  4. Liquor Store Larry sounds like a fun date. And I just wanna say, I beat your sorry ass here Vodka. HA.

  5. I totally feel ya. I was just telling my husband last night how I mourn the physical contact of friends in the flesh since most of my girlfriends are all moms and we can never seem to get together enough and all my other friends are bloggy online friends who live far away.

    I also long to shake hands and hug. And dance. Dancing would be great.

    And great job on your post today!! This competition sure is a good one!

  6. Hello, My name is Bobby G, I have noticed your comment son some of my blogging buddy's blos so i decided to add you as well. www.bobbygspot.org, take a look and comment if you wish!

  7. Nice one. Well, nice two, actually. Maybe we have G to thank?


  8. If I could vote just off of today's rounds, I'd say the luck of the Irish is on your side!

  9. Just got here from Petra's place and I wanted to tell you great job on the questions!

  10. I tried volunteering at the local VA hospital last week. All I did was put up valentines but I was around people. I didn't know these people from Adam but they were so nice and I truly reaped the reward. You might try it - it is great for your head.

  11. If I ever win the lottery, I'm going on the mother of all road trips and show up at everybody's house, whether they want me there or not.

    PS. Why don't you try talking to Venus? She's up there now too. Just look for the star that doesn't twinkle.

  12. Damnit, now I want a cigarette.

    I also want you to make a book of your blog posts.

    Anna xxx

  13. ::shakes fist::
    Now I want a smoke too... Finally my H quits and you have me wanting one...
    Oh well, onto other things. I loved your post in the HB/SB contest! LOVED it. :)

  14. I like G! Smart dude. He hangs out at my place...Moonlight Hollow.

    Nice post.


  15. A blivet? I am so happy to have a name for it. My head too, dude. My head too.

  16. Why didn't Mr. G tell you to sing the moon song my mother sang to me???

    "I see the moon and the moon sees me. . .The moon sees somebody I wanna see. . . God bless the moon (or Mr. "G" if you prefer) and God bless me. . . and God bless the somebody I want to see!"

    If I ever get a chance to meet you face to face, I'll sing the tune for you. . .

  17. "Twenty, thirty, forty heartbeats make themselves useful by pushing the flood of Memories I call a bloodstream through the viaducts lacing under my skin. The cigarette twirls again."

    nice one.

    here's your guinness. (hands over da beers.)

  18. Looks like you picked the wrong week to quit sniffin' glue...

  19. If I still smoked, you would be the sort that I'd love to hang out and chat with.

    Off to check out your contest entry!

  20. I feel your pain, bro. Sometimes you just need a good ol face to face chat with someone. But, you guys (my bloggy friends), are indispensable.

  21. I'm at work and can't really read blogs, but I had to comment really quickly on the whole Star Wars paragraph (I know I'm missing the point of the post) but they also left a two meter wide exhaust port uncovered and unguarded.

  22. now I want a smoke! thanks a lot.


  23. Tony's comment above is making me giddy. That shit's funny.

    You remind me right now of an angsty, introspective, self-aware, poetic, (and drunk?) version of Fivel from An American Tale. "Somewheeeeere out there...beneath the paaaaale moonlight..."

    I love this post, and I feel the same way. Sometimes it's just so not enough.

  24. Belle: I hope so, I really do. Thanks.

    IB: What’s your favorite beer?

    BMA: Right on! And who says it didn’t happen? ;)

    Jan: *blush* Thank you, m’lady!

    Braja: Yeah, cheaper than a psych visit…

    Petra: Even though I dance like “MC Hammer on crack”, that would be great. And thank you! :)

    Bobby G: Thanks, nice to meet you!

    MYE: Thank you. And that G, yeah, he’s cool.

    SK: Fingers crossed! :)

    Joanie: Thank you!

    Sandi: That sounds like a good idea. Thank you.

    Captain: The door is always open, bro, you know that. I’ll give that Venus a try.

    Anna: Sorry! :) I am working on that. Thank you!

    Michelle: Sorry, ma’am! And thank you, glad you liked it!

    MHH: Yes, he is. Smarter than me I think. Thank you!

    MoMo: Glad to help. I think one cure is a liberal application of beer.

    Lizspin: *sniff* How lovely! *sniff* that would be so nice, I’d love to hear it!

    Mommymae: Thank you. *clink* Join me, won’t you? :)

    TBF: LOL! That was funny! “Airplane!” an all time fave…

    OAM: Smoking is baaaddd, stunts your growth. I’d love the chance for a chat!

    Kat: Testimony out there, sister!

    Tony: LOL! I almost mentioned that exhaust port, too. What were they thinking?!

    Maggie May: No, no, don’t do it! :)

    Silvergirl: *bellylaugh* That was freakin’ funny. Fivel? Awesome!

  25. I second what Anna said- a book please!

    G's pretty ok, huh? I thought so too.

  26. Rightonmom: Yes, ma'am! I'm getting myself organized. And that G, he's alright.

  27. My favorite beer? Hmmm. Gonna have to go with something old-school like Guinness. But I usually drink it in Black 'n Tan...

    Man oh man, that's livin!

  28. I feel ya, man.. I totally feel ya. All my best friendships are currently existing through internet/phone.. it's rough.

    We will have that pint (or two) one day, you know that don't you? Sooner than later, friend. Somehow.

    .. and dude, you can always call me. ;)

  29. That was a great post! My favorite line was the one about your veins pushing the memories through your blood stream.... really great way to put it. :)

    We do need hugs and laughing *together* to make it through, don't we?

  30. Just for kicks, I added a splash of libations to my coffee (not really). I raise my cup to you!

  31. IB: Black ‘n Tan is a mighty fine drink, indeed. *clink* :)

    CPM: I’m counting on it. Thank you :)

    Amy: Hello, thank you for dropping in! Very glad you liked it. And yes we do, we certainly, do…

    Flutter: Thank you, my dear!

    Beth: But in your head, you did, didn’t you? :) *clink* Slainte!

  32. I want to meet you, too! See, I cut through that whole post thing and got down to the heart. I sooooo know you wrote this about me.

    It's o.k. I understand.

    Seriously, I get where you're coming from. There have been several people that I've "met" through blogging that I would love to meet in real life to actually SEE them and MEET them and watch their mannerisms and hear their voices and see how they interact with others. I have this HUGE desire to meet so many, yet, I know it's next to impossible to do.

    One day, perhaps, we (collective WE) can all meet up in a bar somewhere and clink our glasses in good cheer!

    BTW...your word verification was liquard.

  33. MD: That would be awesome, i'd love it. *clink* Until then..

    liquard: a person whose apparent idiocy is caused by too much alcohol

  34. Dude, MD.. I know you want to meet me. ;) You just want to see my boobs in real life, don't you!

  35. My best friend from college lives about an hour away. The last two times that I saw her were at funerals (her 2 brothers and her dad). I think I'm gonna call her right now.

  36. Wow, what an amazing way to show your love to the readers of the World Wide Web. I am so impressed and amazed at the way you write. Thank you for sharing with us.

  37. Shabby: Glad you liked it.

    CPM: I can neither confirm nor deny...

    Briana: *sniff* How sweet!

    RTT: Thank you, that's very kind. :)


"Let your laws come undone
Don't suffer your crimes
Let the love in your heart take control..."

-'The Hair Song', by Black Mountain

Tell me what is in your heart...