BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

This is actually a Halloween story. So, why am I not deploying it on Halloween? Look back at the 10/31 blog and ask that again… I may be as stupid as I look, but I’m not about to trump the anniversary wishes to the redhead. That would be suicide.

So anyway…

Back in nineteen-hundred and eighty-five… No, not like the McCartney and Wings song… The REAL nineteen hundred and eighty-five. October, more specifically. If you want to get right down to it, October 31st, hence the whole Halloween thing. (And yes, for those of you who have been following Brainpan Leakage and have read the “Mahwage” chronicles – linked on the right – this was just a few short months prior to me doing the whole love at first sight thing with E K… But that’s another story and I already told it.)

BR (Before Redhead) I worked for American Home Video. Then I didn’t. It’s a long story involving Radio Shack, a buyout, and subsequently the unceremonious expulsion of original employees. So be it. I was fashionably unemployed with bills to pay, a bit of cash in the bank, and no standing prospects. However, it had been a number of years since I’d been on a vacation and as it happened some very good friends of mine had moved to Aberdeen, South Dakota of all places. Why? To manage a Domino’s pizza joint, but that’s another story too.

At any rate, I packed a bag, took some cash out of the bank, then hopped into the Mustang – yes, I used to be cool – and jammed gears westward then northward, to go visit. In all honesty, while this was sort of a spur of the moment thing, it wasn’t wake up one morning and go. I planned it for a few days so that my ducks were all in a row. Got myself a real, live folding map – back then we had BBS’s, not Internet, so there wasn’t a Google maps option. The Interwebz were in their infancy and called ARPnet; and they belonged primarily to the government and military.

But I digress…

The thing is, I planned it out a bit. Then, one day, I jumped in the ‘Stang and hit the road, not even thinking about the date, or what it means to a good chunk of the folks in the United States. Back then we were under the double-nickel law – that being “I can’t drive fifty-five” but you’d damn well better unless you want a ticket. Therefore, the trip was going to be about 13.5 hours. No biggie. I was in my early twenties, my prostate was normal sized, and I had a damn good bladder. Besides, we DID have rest areas back then.

Still, it was a long trip. Long about Council Bluffs, Iowa, I got hungry. And a little sleepy. So, I jumped on an exit, downshifted, and rolled myself into the palace of the golden arches. Back then my metabolism could handle that sort of crap being thrown at it.

Without paying much attention, I stretched, then wandered in through the door. As I stepped up to the register a voice said, “Welcome to McFatty’s, how may I help you?”

I replied, “Yeah, I’ll have a McBigButt with Fr…” at that moment I looked up in the direction of the voice and was greeted with the face of some kind of insane, spree-killing clown. I screamed, “GAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

The insane, spree-killing clown screamed, “GAAAAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!”

We both involuntarily jumped back a step. Well, maybe the insane killer clown did it involuntarily. Me, I was fully conscious of putting some distance between me and all that facepaint.

“What the…” I said.

The insane clown, which turned out to be a young lady of about 19 or 20 screwed up her face and gave me a look like I’d lost my mind. After a few seconds passed she said, “Happy Halloween.”

“Crap,” I muttered, looking past her and seeing the rest of the workers in various odd attire. “That’s today… No wonder all I could get on the radio was Purple People Eater, Monster Mash, and Martian Boogie…”

I ended up having a McBigButt, Large McFry, and a Large McCoffee.  But, I decided to eat in my car rather than deal with the freak show inside. Good thing too, because the McCoffee turned out to be McBattery Acid and I had to dispose of it on the parking lot. It left a pothole I’m afraid, but given what might have happened if I’d tossed it into the trash with the McScraps… Well… I shudder to think about it.

After that, I hit the interstate once more, flipping through the stations until I found something non-Halloweenie. As it happened, the first thing I found was the theme from Miami Vice. I opened the sunroof, jammed the clutch, and aimed myself for the hub city of the Dakotas. By the time I arrived I had forgotten all about the incident – and the fact that it was Halloween.

Imagine my surprise when I rolled into town at the height of the madness…

More to come…

Murv

As one approaches middle age, there is a tendency toward bruising… But that would actually be Chuin’s line (See Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins… No, really… See it…)

Where I’m going with this is that when you get older, if you’re smart, instead of just collecting more and more crap, you start to jettison some of the crap you already have. For one thing, it’s less work to maintain your house. For another, it’s less stuff you have to move and/or deal with when you get old and have to go live at the Daisy Hill Old People Farm. And, it’s that much less crap your kid, or kids, will have to sort through when you get all corpsified and gross.

Well, E K and I aren’t exactly youngsters any longer. Granted, E K still looks like one, but me, not so much. Still, being the practical Taurus, The Evil Redhead decided the other night that maybe it was time to get rid of some stuff. Now, while in the past she has been more than happy to give away MY stuff and then wait for me to notice, this time she was in a mood to offload some of her own. In particular, clothes.

You see, her supreme evilness actually has some pretty damn good fashion sense. She recognizes what will most likely come back around, and she stores things away. Probably all part of her frugality. A way to recycle clothing that is perfectly wearable, but has gone out of style. But, as with any sort of squirreling away, eventually there are more generic Rubbermaid totes occupying your basement than you need. And so, she set about culling the hidden wardrobe.

Now, there’s also something else I should point out. E K happens to be pretty damn creative. She also knows how to sew, and I don’t just mean stitching in a hem, or darning a sock. She used to make her own clothing, and still has what was at one time a pretty high end sewing machine.

But on with the story…

Her worshipfulness pulled out a few of the totes and began going through the hidden treasures that were old clothes, sorting things out into what was back in style that she could wear, retro sorts of things that would likely come back into style and that the o-spring might one day want, and those things that were destined for Goodwill. As usual, when one goes through such storage containers, she ran across various nostalgic items. You know, things like her Catholic Schoolgirl Uniform… No… Wait… That’s actually in the closet for adult play night… Ummm… Well…

But seriously… A T-Shirt from the college she attended… Some clothing she had crocheted, sewn, and otherwise made. And, T-Shirts she had screen printed or appliqued.

There were plenty of “remember this?” moments as the o-spring watched on in confusion. At one point E K withdrew a screen printed tee from her teen years that bore a silhouette type likeness of Ian Hunter, front man for Mott the Hoople.

Yes… I can hear the younger folk among you saying, “Mott the what?” After all, that’s pretty much what the o-spring said. And so, it was explained, but she still said, “Mott the what?” so we gave up.

Later in the parade of Tees, The Evil One withdrew a shirt that bore an applique of Charlie Chaplin. While Ian Hunter and Mott The Hoople were iconic to us, we were willing to admit that Charlie was likely far more iconic, and the o-spring was far more likely to recognize him.

So, E K showed the spring the shirt and said, “Know who this is?”

The child furrowed her brow and said, “He looks familiar.”

E K replied, “Charlie Chaplin.”

This was when things went south. The o-spring perked up and said, “Oh yeah, he was one of the Beatles, right?”

Obviously, we will be starting an intensive musical education program with her in the very near future.

More to come…

Murv