I'm Just Going To Jump Right Into This One

I had this dream last night. I was in a warehouse, not too big, but kind of dark, with maybe thirty other people. A movie was being shot, and I was in the movie, but all we were doing was playing football. With a wedding ring. The ring was the football.

Patrick Swayze was on my team, but he was really annoying me, so I punched the shit out of him. I mean, I really did damage. He wouldn't stop talking shit.

So in the middle of this, they're rolling cameras, lights and all this stuff, I'm beating up Swayze, and Deion Sanders comes up with the ring and starts running on me and Swayze's side.

So I tell Swayze to start blocking for him, but he's still being a jerk, so I drag him up the field and use his body to block, punching him in the face occassionally for good measure.

Deion gets to the endzone, which is a rubber mat, maybe six feet long by three feet deep, but he realizes he lost the ring in the process. It's on the ground, I see, and I recover it, hand it to Deion, and we score.

Then I woke up.

The Great Nintendo Conquest

I wanted to wait a little while to talk about this, to let things settle in a bit before I made any attempt at expressing myself, because telling a story is never that easy when you really want to do it right, and it gets a lot harder when your story is about waiting in line at a Target in Saugus at five o'clock in the morning to be one of the blessed souls to whom the fine people at Nintendo will entrust a "Wii" entertainment system.

My brother and I were number 54 in a group of 60.

The story really starts around seven pm Saturday night, when Rachael and I got back to my house in Wakefield and watched Elf in it's entirety on cable television before meeting Zach and Sarah, making a brief pitstop at the Bridge's household, then going to Salem. Once we were in Salem, Zach and Sarah shared a gallon of red wine and Rachael and I had a few Heineken's while we watched Lucky Number Slevin, which was actually pretty cool, believe it or not. Rachael dropped me off in Wakefield around 2:30 in the morning, and I went in the house, put on pyjamas, and drank a glass of eggnog.

So that should set the tone. That's the end of the first part of the story. To recap:
Rachael, Home, Movie #1, Zach & Sarah, Mr. Bridges, Wine, Heineken, Salem, Movie #2, Home, PJs, Eggnog.

Now I can start the second part of the story. I lay down and fall asleep for maybe fifteen minutes, then I hear my brother wake up. We go downstairs together, and we go to amazon.com, where we intend to spend the next couple of hours refreshing the order page, because, Matt's guessing, The Holy Wii is going to be released online at 3:00 EST (midnight PST). This, of course, doesn't happen, and so I put on a pot of coffee (which I immediately forget about) and tell my brother I'm going back to bed.

Since we can't get the thing on amazon, we're going to have to go to Target. So I get to sleep until like 5:00 am, then we leave.

I take some coffee with me, but I think I totally screwed up the bean-to-water ratio, and it tastes horrible.

Now if anyone ever wanted to have a nerd genocide, what they would do is make up a really kick ass video game and release it at Targets and wal-Marts across the nation, then about an hour before the slated release date, they'd just gas the line. I was actually worried that this might actually happen for awhile. There was a street cleaning device circling the parking lot that looked highly suspect.

The nerds looked like junkies. My brother and I really didn't fit in. I should clarify something- my brother's a nerd, yes, but he's a very tolerable and likeable nerd- and all in all, he'sno nerdier than I am, it's just that I'm a nerd with books and music, and he's a nerd with video games. His interest in video games has the same depth and understanding that my interest in books and music does. Does that make sense? And the kid reads too, he's not... he's just not like the rest of them.

These kids in line look desperate. Matt looks a little tired, maybe excited, just a bit, but nowhere near desperate. One guy in front of me is in line waiting to buy one for his twenty seven year old son, who is himself waiting in line at another store. A pack of smaller kids wait with their mothers behind us. The kids all have diamond earrings and call their respective mothers "Ma."

We call our mother "Mama" (MUM-ah). "Ma," before the age of twenty five is totally unacceptable if you're living north of the Mason-Dixon line. A Northern "Ma" is senile.

(NB: Rachael switches between variations on "Mom." This is also acceptable. When the maternal figure in question is directly addressed, it's often "Mum," as in, "Mum, I told you I'd be back late, I'll clean the bathroom tomorrow." "Mom" is more frequently used by the male members of the household.)

Anyway, one of these little bastards tried to cut my brother in line. Before we even got out of the car to stand in this line, I reiterated several times over that if we did not leave this sad place with a Nintendo Wii (I still don't even know how to pronounce that), we would leave with our dignity.

We were leaving with whatever dignity we could muster.

That being said, I still wanted to throttle this little son of a bitch, or maybe just rip one of his earrings out and tell "Ma" to save her two hundred and fifty bucks for a plane ticket to England, where the whole family could learn the definition and purpose of a cue.

My brother stepped up and said "Excuse me, I think my brother and I were behind him." before I had a chance to shed blood.

They finally hand out the tickets, and we get to wait in our car for another hour until the store opens. I turn on the radio and we listen to the latest news from Iraq, seagulls start to grow in numbers as the smell of fried food drifts across the street from Kelly's. The sun's coming up, but the sky is so grey that nothing really changes, and no one notices when the streetlights go off.

They let us in the store and I'm waiting in line again, reading a David Sedaris book for awhile, but I start getting dizzy, so I just stand there until our number is called, Matt forks over three hundred and fourteen dollars for the system and a game called "Medal Of Honor."

When I get home, it feels like christmas, and I'm six years old.

- - - -

So that's the story of how The McDonald Brothers got their hands on a Nintendo Wii on the release date. To celebrate my triumph, Rachael and I went out to a nice restaurant and ate shrimp scampi last night. Kelly's felt really far away. I don't think Rachael was celebrating much of anything (except maybe a free meal), but had I voiced the fact that I was celebrating the Great Nintendo/Target Conquest Of November, 2006, she would have called me a dork, one thing would have led to another, and there would have been tears.

Now it's almost Thanksgiving, and I have to pack up some clothes for the long weekend at home. Zach's death-wagon is on it's way.

Just another freak in the freak kingdom.

Lyrics

Daddy, please hear this song that I sing,
in your heart there's a spark that just screams
for a lover to bring
a child to your chest
that could lay as you sleep,
and love all you have left
like your boy used to be, long ago,
wrapped in sheets warm and wet.

Blister, please, with those wings in your spine,
love to be with a brother of mine,
how he'd love to find your tongue in his teeth
in a struggle to find
secret songs that you keep
wrapped in boxes so tight,
sounding only at night as you sleep.

And in my dreams you're alive and you're crying,
as your mouth moves in mine, soft and sweet,
rings of flowers round your eyes
and Ill love you for the rest of your life (when youre ready)

Brother see we are one and the same,
and you left with your head filled with flames
and you watched as your brains
fell out through your teeth,
push the pieces in place
make your smile sweet to see,
dont you take this away
Im still wanting my face on your cheek.

And when we break
well wait for our miracle,
God is a place where some holy spectacle lies.
And when we break
well wait for our miracle,
God is a place you will wait for the rest of your life.

Two-headed boy,
she is all you could need,
she will feed you tomatoes
and radio wire,
and retire to sheets safe and clean,
but don't hate her when she gets up to leave.

-Neutral Milk Hotel, "Two Headed Boy Part II"

We're Like Sigfreid & Roy Without The Tigers And The Sex

A few weeks ago, Dave (of Uhaul fame) and I were talking about writing in a Wendy's on Mass Ave in Central Square. A strange place to have such a conversation, yeah, but perhaps, in some strange way, it was staggeringly appropriate.

Two guys went into the bathrooom together and didn't come out until we left, and I don't think I've ever felt whiter in my life. I ate a cheeseburger with coke and fries- Dave had a frosty, and we talked about books we liked, books we didn't like, books we didn't get, etc etc, then tossed around a couple of ideas involving some actual publication.

At the time, I wasn't writing very much, but now that I'm back in the swing of things, I think it's somewhat feasible, so, if we can get our pennies together or barder sexual favors for the fine people over at Gnomon Copy, hopefully we'll have some kind of paper thing with our words on it, you know, the sort of thing you can hold in your hand, leave on your coffeetable so you can tell chicks you know writers, whatever.

I'm sure that this is at the very least, several weeks away from production, but Dave and I will be sure to keep all (three) of you readers informed of our progress.

Jagshemash!

I've got that song "Come On Eilleen" stuck in my head, and I don't have any idea why. I haven't heard that song in years, and I'm not even sure I've got the melody right.

What a bizarre couple of weeks. Everyone I know is in some kind of weird transitional phase, everyone's feathers are ruffled, they're rubbing the sleep out of their eyes, trying to force themselves awake- how can I explain this?

You know that feeling you get when you walk into a room in a daze and someone asks you a question that you immediately know the answer to (e.g. Where are the coffee filters?), but for some strange reason, you just don't want to answer it? You know, you're really irritated by it, but you don't know why because there's absolutely no reason. I don't know if you understand what I'm talking about, but I'm going to move on anyway.

That's just the state that everyone seems to be in.

I was sitting in a cafe with Rachael a couple of days ago after seeing the Borat movie (nine thumbs way up), and we're sandwiched in between a few economically marginal people shouting in Russian over dirty chess sets and these two Harvard kids. Rachael had soup, I had a sandwich and some kind of latte.

I'd like to point out that Rachael tasted said latte and feigned indifference about the beverage, but quietly ended up drinking more than half of it. It was a well played move, because if she had said something like "Ooh, that's good!" I would have guarded the drink more carefully.

Anyway, the Russians kind of created a tension (the one closest to me smelled like urine and had more hair in his ears than I have ever seen on a biped), but the Harvard kids took the cake.

One kept talking, as only Harvard kids can, about his classes and how disenchanted he was, while maintaining that he really liked the classes "where you just think." I guess he was talking about a math class. This kid went on and on, and Rachael and I couldn't help but share the occassional glance of rage and desperation that said "I can't believe these people exist."

Trying to hold any sort of conversation between the two of us was futile, and then something amazing happened.

Well, amazing if you know Rachael.

Solidifying my assumption that these kids were homosexuals, the more talkative one said "So, do you want to come back and see my dorm room?"

Then, in a voice that I swear was not her own, and with a light in her eyes sent by something either much higher or much lower than man, Rachael hissed "He's gonna get railed."

This terrified the two of us, and we left the cafe hurriedly. Why she said that is still a topic of debate, but if we come to any conclusions, I'll be sure to let everyone know.

- - - -

In other news, I'm writing again, with mild success, and I bought a sausage from a street vendor in front of a dorm at BC at three in the morning this past Saturday.

Maybe that sort of thing contributes to the surreal quality of life we seem to all be sharing.

What's Halloween Without Ghosts, Wiccans, Drunkenness, And Gang Violence?

I was, in fact, in Salem for Halloween, but I didn't see any of this, I just find it hilarious. Actually, I don't know why I was in Salem for Halloween. I just went to a party at Zach's. I didn't sacrifice anything, I didn't even use the word "wiccan," I didn't see any haunted houses, and I wasn't there to stab anyone, so there wasn't any significance, really.

Zach was wearing a bathrobe and a tie, with no shirt. That was his costume. A pretty half-assed Halloween, in some respects. Rachael went to great lengths with her costume (a homeless woman), so to the point that her hair has yet to be de-tangled. She might consider just keeping it that way from on, now that she knows hair madness and general filth is extremely attractive to forty eight year old closet homosexuals (I'm pretty sure).

Don't even ask me to explain that. It was extremely uncomfortable for everyone involved but Zach, who cannot ever be uncomfortable. I seriously think it goes against physics.

If you're not uncomfortable in a bathrobe and a tie while your forty eight year old neighbor is hitting on your friend's friend from work at your party, I don't think too much can phase you. So kudos to Zach.

Kudos also to Dave for ranting about nothing on the porch. I don't even think I can do it justice. It went something like this:

"Hey, man, I just got out of jail. They gave me a bible to read and I didn't want to read the fuckin Bible so I just sat on it. They took it away and gave me a smaller one- Hey guys, I'm here to watch your kids, WOO! You guys got any ice cream, kids love ice cream, hey... hey you got a pool back there... cool man, can we go in the pool?"

And so on and so forth. I was right, I can't do it justice.

I'm going to end with this bit from a Salem newspaper, because it's hilarious.

Meanwhile the sun gradually set, the sky turning from pink to a dark, deep blue. "Look at the sky, suddenly it's being beautiful for us," a woman in the procession said.

The group convened in a circle around a table crowded with lit candles. A steady, slow dream beat set the mood. At one point people held hands and walked in a circle. Then they listened to prayers and clapped along to music.

"One year now ends and another begins," said a leader of the ceremony. "Blessed be," the group responded in unison.

The celebrants were from all over. Linda McRee has come from Biddeford, Maine, for the last five years. "It has a peaceful energy," she said of the ceremony.

The peace was temporarily interrupted by an onlooker who began shouting. Police arrived and took the man into custody.