Drums Pounding Like Thunder

Okay, I'll admit it... it's been a long time since I woke up in a strange place, with little or no memory of how I got there.  It's been even longer since the only recollections I had were as twisted and bizzarre as the ones I had when I woke up... and honestly, I don't ever remember waking up totally wrapped in aluminum foil... except for the beer helmet, that's what makes me suspect Canadians...

Started out normal enough, I was driving by the old cemetary and thought I saw a ghost... admit it, you've seen one, or at least hoped you would....  So I turn the car around, mainly because I'm trying to catalog my hallucinations,and the foods, moods, or meds that may set them off.

It was your basic ghost/figment of my fevered imagination.  Long flowing white gown, a face that never quite came into focus, seemed to be hovering, and there was a high pitched whine, just under the sound of the wind.   Oh, and bats, lots of freaking bats, zipping around and thru the hallucination in question.

So, of course, I stop the car and get out to get a closer look... admit it, you'd be that stupid too, everyone watching a scary movie says they'd run, but we all have to open the glowing closet door before we go... it's human nature, hard to imagine we've survived as a species as dumb as we are.

So, I'm lighting a smoke, thinking "well... this is certainly different"... actually, what I was thinking had a lot of words I'd rather not use for fear of offending anyone... This strange ghoul is floating towards me, and I swear the mouth starts to become clear, and I can see a long black toungue snake out and lick the cracked blue lips on the otherwise grey and blurry face... with glowing red eyes.

It was about this time that some sort of vehicle popped into existence between me and the offensive spirit. door pops open, guy jumps out... grabs me, throws me in the back seat, jumps in and slams the door, and bam... I'm off on another adventure.

Now, I've had my share of adventures... good and bad, planned and unplanned, one day or a week, felony or gross misdemeanor... and none of them EVER started with me being abducted, no matter what I told my mother or ex-wife.

"Do you have a death wish?  or are you just, uh... 'special'?" the guy with the steering control asks.  Then they both look back, look at each other, and laugh till green snot comes out their big red noses... one more thing that made me suspect Canadians.

"Just kidding, we been watching you for awhile, s'posed to protect you, but you can be a real pain to follow sometimes.... and some of the decisions you make, well I..."

"shut up wartface" the other one laughed and cut him off,  "you're just mad you couldn't join in that night he was 'interrogated' by the isreali sisters"

"oh, that was a fun new years, I still have that polaroid picture" I sort of mumbled to myself...

They turned, looked, and then we all started laughing again, I even blew snot out my nose this time.

Then the guy in the passenger seat lights a smoke, turns and hands it to me.  Since I had forgotten my pack of smokes in the excitement of being abducted, I gratefully took it, and pulled in a nice lungfull...

That's about where things get really hazy.  I remember drinking glowing blue beer, and dancing with a smurf... well, she was blue anyway (and HOT!), something about riding mustangs thru a morning mist, counting stars from the top of the pyramid, dive bombing a pro golf event during the winning putt... there are several strange memories sort of slammed all together with no timeline or basis in reality.

So, here I am, naked except for my deathray deflecting aluminum suit... at least I still have unopened beers in the beer-hat holders...

Must have been Canadians.

I'm hoping Sunny Jim gets here soon, I'm pretty sure the really weird stuff is just hallucinations, but there's a few things that could be real...or not.

The walrus with the fireman's hat... definitely a hallucination.  The fact that he's juggling chipmunks was the tipoff for me.  But some of the other things... well, correct me if I missed something, but Elvis is dead, right?  and he never rode around in a 1958 Cadillac looking spaceship with James Dean, right?  Well, actually, I can't say it was a spaceship, I never saw it leave the atmosphere... But I did see it fly, and hover, and spin in circles, flashing lights, making me feel like I was on a game show.

At this point, I'm not sure where to draw the "reality line", I'm trying to just roll with it, and if the 2 ugly trolls are really minions of evil, well... I just hope they take Liberace and get out before they start a fight.  But the zingers Zappa and Garcia have been tossing at the ugly swine has been worth the occasional tension.  Evil minions?  More like poorly disciplined children with bad grooming habits... I'm trying to be patient, but the Jamaican bobsled team is about to run them down the basement stairs in garbage cans...hey, is that really John Candy?  and when did my basement get THAT deep?

Anyway, it's been weird, but mostly a good kind of weird, and thankfully, Sunny Jim will be here soon... if he sees this stuff too, well... hmmm, I guess it will make the jam more interesting with some of the players hanging out... but no, there's just no way a walrus can juggle, much less juggle live chipmunks... and he better not drop one, some of those pirate rabbits look hungry... like I said, weird.

Last thing, avoid the organic mushrooms at the supermarket... although I guess this is better than botulism

Well, actually...and I've given this alot of thought... if I had to be a homicidal maniac, I've narrowed it down to chainsaw, axe, or shotgun, with chainsaw being the least lethal.  People just seem to scatter when they hear it.  But this really has nothing to do with todays rant at all.

"Because I'd be an axe wielding, homicidal maniac"  is my usual answer when people ask why I play guitar, or why I play drums, or why I write.  What I'm usually thinking is "how can you NOT do... whatever".  My mind needs that creative outlet, or I can get edgy.

Repression is just bad, I'm venting a bunch of repressed anger right now... well, maybe I'm just enjoying being volatile and unstable for awhile,but it keeps me entertained.  Anyway, I just don't have the room or whatever to repress anything else.

Besides, why would you want to stifle creativity?  Even if it's putting a mustache on a picture, you have to create.  Even if it's just a laugh, or making someone smile, it can mean as much as a masterpiece.

It's as hard to answer the question "where do you get your inpiration?"....how can I answer that?  "uh, which piece specifically, and I'll make something up" has worked fairly well for me lately.

I don't know why I'm wired to play or write or whatever it is I do.  I just know that if I don't channel some of the energy into something positive, I get pretty maniacal, but I haven't gotten homicidal yet.