BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Yo and stuff…

So, I just got back from Ohio… Yes, I went back to Ohio, but the city was still there… Not MY city, but then my name isn’t Chrissy, and I’m not pretending, so hey… (Hopefully everyone is getting that reference… If not…well…I guess I’m just showing my age again…)

Anywho, I was in Ohio for the First Annual Earth Warriors Festival. This fantastic gig was organized by Heather of Violet Flame Gifts in Newark, OH, and an amazing staff of folks who worked their tails off and hearts out to make sure the fest was a rousing success… They had a great turnout for a first time festival, and what was even more impressive was the fact that after the remnants of Ike tore up their original venue, this incredible crew managed to find a new venue and have it ready to go, all in the matter of two weeks. And, even with the last minute change they drew in a more than respectable crowd.

The first night was pretty much staff and presenter time, with all of us hanging out around the bonfire telling stories and having a few drinks. Due to the size of the venue, they had rented some golf carts for the staff to use – mainly to shuttle folks around, carry excess stuff, and be able to respond quickly to needs or situations. Well… as we know, when Morrison and I get together there can be some mischief. We happened to be standing on the back patio of the dining hall after supper and I was pacing around looking at the area. Upon peering around the corner of the building I saw a golf cart sitting there. Thinking it might be one of the staff folks I wandered around to say hey and visit for a bit. However, all I found was the golf cart… The problem here is that it still had the keys in it, as well as a radio tuned to the staff channel. Apparently the driver was inside the dining hall doing whatever… Anyway, I motioned Morrison over and then next thing you know we had committed Grand Theft Golfcart.

Fortunately for us the staff – and Heather – found this amusing. In fact, at one point, after appropriating a paper chef’s hat from the dining hall and fitting it to my head, Heather and I raced about the site in the cart, her swinging a large plastic stirring paddle, and we “cooked up some trouble”… There are supposed to be pictures… I’ll see if I can get my hands on them.

Day two found us doing a seminar to a wonderful group of attendees, meeting up with George Knowles – owner of Controverscial.com, and generally hanging out. That evening there was a rousing concert around the bonfire with the Dragon Ritual Drummers. They are a great group of guys out of Canada, and they can definitely pound out some killer beats. We had a funny moment with them earlier in the day – Morrison and I had just stumbled out of the presenters cabin and were having a cup of coffee before heading off to our respective shower houses. The DRD guys walked by and I commented that they looked much brighter and awake than we did. They replied, “That’s because we’re Canadian.”

Day three brought us back around to another seminar with a great group of attendees, followed by a book signing and hanging out with folks – including the Pie-Rats (well, that’s what I call them)… The pirate camp was a blast, and there was plenty of “Yarring” and official Grog to go around. Morrison and I were also fortunate enough to share the presenter cabin with Wendy Rule and her son Reuben. They were absolutely lovely folks who were great to hang out with, and Wendy put on a killer concert Saturday night with Reuben accompanying on the accordion. Haunting stuff and the whole crowd was mesmerized.

Throughout the entire fest, Silver the Kitchen Witch, was doing everything in her power to kill us – By that I mean she was cooking up a storm and everything was so fantastic we just kept eating, even when we weren’t hungry. So we pretty much ate until we burst. Not only were there three huge and fantastic meals each day, but on top of that there was a hospitality cabin where we could go to kick back, and Silver and her staff kept it stocked with all manner of munchies – Crudites, chips, M&M’s, coffee, antipasto platters, and some absolutely killer meatballs… These meatballs were so good that when I went in for a cup of coffee and smelled them I said to myself, “hey, I gotta try one of these…” Well, it didn’t stop there. Before I knew it “one of these” had turned into a half dozen…

So, if all that weren’t enough I got to hang out with Heather, her husband Max, Phelina, Kira, Kim, Alan, Ron, Bill & Maxine, the pirates, and a whole ton of other good friends whom I hadn’t seen in quite a while…

Now, that was the good… (Actually, it was the great!) … What about the bad and the fuglee…

Well, it certainly wasn’t possible for the universe to allow me that much fun without slapping me in the back of the head… It seems that every single time I fly out of Columbus, OH, I end up getting delayed and this trip was no different. It all started a month or so back when they changed my straight through flight to one with a connection in Chicago. Then, yesterday I went to the airport a little early with Morrison so that the festival folks wouldn’t have to make two trips to the airport. I figured I could occupy myself for that extra couple of hours no problem… But after I got Morrison on her plane and away, I kicked back to relax and soon discovered that my flight was getting more and more delayed according to the monitors… Well, eventually I had to see a gate agent to have my flight changed in Chicago because I wasn’t going to arrive there in time to make the connection… Well, they got me on the first thing out of there with seats, but I still ended up not getting home until around 10:30 last night. So, from around 11:30 AM yesterday until 10:30 PM last night, I was either in the air or in an airport. I actually could have driven and been home sooner…

But, oh well. That’s just one of those things and I blame American Airlines for it…

So, now I have to wash clothes and re-pack. Thursday I fly out for DC and Morrison & I start off on the book release tour. Hopefully I’ll be able to check in from the road…

More to come…

Murv

Good Morning…

I need help. No, not that kind of help. I’m nowhere near as insane as I pretend to be…well, maybe…if you count that incident in…oh, never mind. I promised the other parties involved I wouldn’t talk about that outside of therapy. But, anyway…

What I need help with is dream interpretation. Now, normally I am pretty good at that sort of thing. I can tag the easy as well as the obscure. And, in this particular incident I am certain I could massage some standard interpretation to fit the events, however the bizarre info dump my subconscious let loose on me last night was so odd that I am not entirely sure it even has an explanation. So, here it is:

I’m at the local airport. Not unusual, because I spend so damn much time there anyway that it seems like my home away from home. Never mind the fact that what I know to be my local STL airport (Lambert, Intl) looks for all the world (in my dream) like the airport in Columbus, OH. (Yeah, I’ve been through that one several times, which probably explains that.)

Anyway, here I am walking through the airport when suddenly I run into William H. Macy and Felicity Huffman. Now, I don’t suppose this is unusual in and of itself, because as I recall they are married to one another. But then, that may have changed, I don’t know. I’m not one for keeping up on the break ups and hook ups in “Hollerwood.”

Of course, it wouldn’t be much of a bizarre dream if that’s all there was to it, correct? Correct. So, Huffman and Macy aren’t just standing there, or strolling along running into dreaming folks. No. In point of fact, they are in front of a newsstand taking turns jumping on an oversized, bizarrely constructed, stagger-pedaled pogo stick. (sorry if that makes no sense, but it was the only way I could think of to explain it. Suffice it to say, it was one weird looking pogo stick)…

Now, if that’s not enough, Macy sees me and motions me over, then completely ignores Huffman, leaving her to bounce around the concourse of the terminal on this pogo-contraption. Suddenly I find that we are sitting in easy chairs near the entrance to the restroom, while Huffman continues to gleefully bounce around the concourse, giggling like a little schoolgirl. At this point Macy and I have said nothing to one another, but now he turns to me and asks me what kind of books I write. I tell him. He gives it a moment of thought and then asks me if I have read his blog. (Hell, I didn’t know he had one)…I tell him no. He then asks me if I have a blog. I say yes. (Now, remember, Huffman is still wreaking havoc with the pogo stick in the background of all of this, but TSA and Airport Security don’t seem to care. They are far more concerned that my wife is a potential terrorist and are searching her luggage. NOTE: Prior to this point in the dream I had no idea my wife was even there.)…So, anyway, Macy gets up to leave without a word, stops, turns and comes back, sits down, and then asks me if my “blog is really intense?”…

Then, I woke up and the coffee wasn’t ready yet.

Needless to say, I am confused. Everything seems to be functioning properly and I do know who the president is (unfortunately), and the day of the week, etc, so I don’t think I had a stroke in my sleep or anything.

Still, this one has me scratching my head.

MR