BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Got your attention, didn’t I?

Well, don’t start covering your eyes just yet. There’s a good story behind that selection for the title. But then, there always is, isn’t there?

So, I think we have pretty well established that I had myself a haircut. If anyone is just now coming into this and doesn’t know about it, go back a few entries and look at the pictures.  Better yet, just click here – Murv Makeover. I had the 20 year ponytail lopped off and a new “do” sculpted atop the braincase. Rumor has it I look younger. Don’t know if that’s true, but what the hell, I’ll take it…

Now, if you’ve been a regular reader of Brainpan Leakage, and I’m talking even way back to the original Myspace Blog Platform days, then you are also familiar with my views on art. If not, read about it here – Murv’s Views On Art.

Okay, all caught up? Good.

So, by now I am sure you are wondering what my curmudgeonly views on art and a haircut have to do with one another. Why do I say that? Because it seems y’all wonder an awful lot whenever I tell a story. Wonder why that is?

Okay, okay… I’ll get on with it. I have a friend – quit snickering… I actually have several friends believe it or not… So, anyway, I have a good friend who is an artist. No, not the guy who does bookcovers. A different person. A girl person. Someone I went to high school with, in fact.

Every now and then I get an email from Celeste telling me that she has a piece or two in an art show, or that she has a showing at a coffee house, or something like that. Now, Celeste actually does art I can appreciate, unlike that which I ramble about in the above linked blog entry. Unfortunately, as life and timing would have it, every time I hear from her about a show, it is falling on a day when I will be in West-Whatchamacallit doing a signing, therefore I never seem to be able to attend. Because of this, I haven’t actually seen Celeste in a couple of years.

Fast forward to this past Friday night. I had received a note from my friend that she had a piece in an art show at the gallery over at Meramec College. I checked my schedule and voila, I was going to be in town. So, E K, the offspring and I decided we would go to the gallery and surprise Celeste.

We arrived and wandered around, looking at various pieces of sculpture, paintings, and all manner of stuff. I kept searching through the crowd for my friend. Eventually, I spotted her across the gallery. Telling E K, I skirted around the folks and made my way over to where Celeste was standing. Unfortunately, as fate would have it, she turned and was walking away right about the time I arrived on her side of the room.

So, what did I do? Well, since there were hushed conversations going on all around me and the atmosphere seemed a bit libarary-ish, I reached out and poked her right in the back of the neck with my index finger before she could get away. Of course, she immediately turned to see what, or who, had touched her.

This is where the haircut comes in. Remember, Celeste hadn’t seen me for a couple of years, and she doesn’t really follow my blog.

My friend started out with a curious look on her face, as one would expect. This quickly morphed into a furrowed brow, which was even more rapidly replaced by a scowl and glare.

Yeah, she was standing there staring at me with an if looks could kill expression that said in no uncertain terms, “Who the hell are you and why the fuck did you touch me you pervert?!”

It took better than 5 seconds – maybe even ten – before the scowl disappeared and recognition spread over her face as she yelped, “Murv!” and gave me a hug. Good thing too, because I starting to think she was going to hit me.

I guess the moral of the story here is, don’t get your hair cut then go around arbitrarily touching people, no matter how long you’ve been friends.

Still… It was priceless. I really wish I’d had a camera.

More to come…

Murv

I have literally lost track of the number of emails, tweets, Facebook & Myspace comments, and other communications I have received from folks following the deployment of the “Gimme Mai Shooz” blog post. In all honesty, I never expected that story to go as “viral” as it did. Granted, it was a weak virus that played out quickly, but it was probably the first blog post I have ever written that was re-tweeted and linked to from other blogs/sites more times than I could count.

And, who knows, maybe the virus is merely dormant for a short period. I suppose it could re-awaken and spread some more. I mean, it definitely is a funny story.

However, the purpose of this particular blog entry is to address the adjunct “virus” that came along with the post itself – that being the plethora of faux bets on the how and when of my demise for publicly retelling the story in the first place. This is where all of the emails, tweets, comments, etcetera, come into play. I had thrown the “want to play Clue and start a pool?” comment out as a joke, but folks picked it up and ran with it. Not something I really expected, but I don’t suppose I should have been surprised. And besides, it was fun to watch.

There were plenty of the old standby ideas submitted:

• E K in the kitchen with a knife…
• E K in the dining room with a poison sandwich…
• E K in the driveway with her car…

There were even a couple that left me wondering:

• E K with a cheese grater and razor wire…
• E K with Dr. Pepper in the bathtub…

I’m not entirely sure if that second one was a “Dr. Pepper bath” type of Beauty Tip, or if the intention was to use the carbonic & phosphoric acids in the soda to dissolve my remains. In addition to the Clue-like wagers, there were even several suggestions for torture and punishment. I’m not entirely certain that the majority of those suggestions actually fit the crime… In fact, I think maybe some folks have seen way too many episodes of the “Jack Bauer Show” .

Still, when it came to bets on how I would meet my end for embarking on this horrible transgression, the suggestion I received most, and the odds on favorite method for my death was:

• E K somewhere in the house with stiletto heels [add description here]

– The “somewheres“ tendered for consideration ranged anywhere from her shoe closet to just about any other room you could imagine, including some we don’t even have.

– The stiletto heels varied quite a bit in color and style. (Obviously the fashion statement was just as important as my demise.)

– The [add description here] AKA “method” by which the deadly footwear would be used to affect my untimely death varied only slightly and always involved an enormous amount of gleeful stomping and grinding on E Kay’s part, and even more bleeding and suffering on my part.

Not surprisingly, 100% of the death by high heels suggestions came from women. At first, I assumed that all of these ladies had read the RGI Miranda Trilogy, since that happened to be how a particular victim met his demise at the hands… well, feet actually… of a sociopathic killer dominatrix. Then I discovered that several of them had not yet read that far in the series.

That was a bit of a surprise…

What was really shocking to me, however, was the obvious delight most of them took in outlining the details of the scenario for me. There seemed to be a whole vicarious thrill built around it. Some of them even seemed to have spent quite a bit of time dwelling on it… Like maybe even before the whole blog ever happened, if you know what I mean… I even kind of had the feeling I was suddenly becoming a virtual surrogate for some husbands and boyfriends out there who had committed various infractions over the years.

Kinda scary… Kinda really scary, actually…

Because of that, I hope you ladies realize I’m going to be maintaining a safe distance from here on out… Especially if you show up at one of my book signings wearing high heels.

So, anyway, there’s something y’all probably need to know. E K really and truly is an extremely laid back gal. Very little fazes her, and her Evil persona in my blogs is for the most part satire. Now, this is not to say that she won’t tap dance on someone’s head if they cross her, because she definitely will. I’ve seen her do it. I even have pictures. And, I’m also not saying that she isn’t on the dominant side, because that would be a lie.  She is very much the alpha female. And, in our relationship I’m the clown in the mailroom and she’s the CEO – actually, she prefers to be referred to as The Queen, but let’s not take that side road… My point here is she actually knows about my blogs in advance. Maybe not the exact wording and such, but she definitely knows which stories are being told. So, in essence I really had little to fear – from her, anyway. The rest of you twisted women… Well…  I’m not so sure…

At least, that’s what I thought…

You see, as it happens E K gives pretty amazing back walking massages – trust me, that’ll make sense in a minute if it doesn’t already. I figure she was probably a Geisha or something of the sort in a previous life,  – (Egads, please don’t email me and tell me I’ve offended someone with the whole Geisha thing… I realize it’s a whole cultural thing and that I’m probably just focusing on a hyped aspect or something, but give me a break…) – My point being that with sitting in front of a keyboard as much as I do, I will get a crick in my back every now and again. Whenever seeing the Chiropractor isn’t affordable time-wise or money-wise, and E K notices me twisting and stretching quite a bit, she asks with much wifely compassion and concern, “Is your back hurting? Do you want me to walk on it for you?” Then she’ll go all “E K-Geisha” on me and run up and down my back a few times while it goes POP! CRACK! SKRUNCH! After that I’m all good. She really and truly does have a talent for it. Trust me, I’m not the only person for whom she’s done this. She could probably get you testimonials without even threatening anyone.

Anywho, such was the case Saturday evening… As in, the Saturday evening immediately after the blog had been going a bit viral…

I should have known something was up when instead of the normal concerned question, her offer to pop my back came out a bit differently this time. With more than just a bit of a wicked grin and an evil twinkle in her eyes the redhead pretty much issued the following order, in no uncertain terms –

“Lay down and I’ll step on you…”

I didn’t notice her shoes until it was already too late.

I blame you ladies and your suggestions.

More to come…

Murv