Surgery

I had to go in for surgery, and they told me not to eat after midnight. Easy enough. But then I went to sleep and dreamed that I’d accidentally eaten a small number of grapes with a bit of broccoli. While I do eat broccoli in real life, I haven’t had a grape in six years, and I never accidentally eat. I’m not the type to just automatically reach for food from idleness or whatever. But that happened in my dream, and I started worrying that they’d have to push back the surgery by another month or something because of the four grapes.

And then I woke up. I think. In any case, I realized that it wasn’t the sort of thing that I’d do in real life and thought the whole dream was ridiculous. Then I started accidentally eating a few grapes again, failing to understand how I could make that mistake after just thinking I was foolish for doing so in a dream. Until I realized I was dreaming again. And then I just wanted to get off the track of that particular anxiety dream.

Which I did.

Bonus Question!

Best grape?

Green. And hard.

Unsolicited

On Tuesday afternoon, I get this message on Facebook from someone I don’t really recognize. But she’s real. I think she came to one of my shows in the past or something? She wants to know when my next performance is, and then she says she’s looking to join a band. I say our roster’s full at the moment, but since our drummer’s next few weeks are quite busy, it’d be nice to have a spare drummer to sit in on the occasional rehearsal in that time. She’s excited, and we discuss details. Of course, I ask her if she’s been taking necessary pandemic precautions, and she assures me she has.

Later in the evening, she starts sending me random but harmless messages. I assume she’s bored and possibly drunk, but that’s fine.

Then I wake up early on the following morning to find this.

And that’s what I get for humouring unsolicited requests to jam.

Bonus Question!

Best jam!

Probably strawberry.

There’s a Frood Who Knows Where His Mask Is

You remember that style of kids’ PSAs that’d say things like “It’s cool to follow the rules” or “It’s hip to be safe”? And thus made themselves an easy target for facile middle school mockery? 2020 seems to be the year that’s determined to bear that out.

This is when even the crustiest punks are imploring people to practice social distancing and obey mask mandates.

“Yeah, you know that marathon month of hot box art show concerts we were planning to have in my unventilated 6-by-8 basement? PWYC, BYOB, dogs get in free? Yeah, um, I’m just going to do it by myself this summer. See you again when things have cooled down a bit though, yeah?”

And you see it, don’t you? You see two strangers walk through a parking lot, and the one in the mask is the one you’d want to hang with. He’s the one who knows what’s up. Remember when smoking stopped automatically making people look more attractive and ceased to be unequivocally cool? Now it’s just equivocally cool? You still might see the occasional person who looks good with a cigarette in hand, but they’d probably look about the same without it. 

This feels like the step beyond that. Tacit visible agreement with the statements of health authorities is the new hotness in the year of the new cold.

Bonus Question!

Best mask?

Jim Carrey.