Saturday, January 5, 2013

The Dispatch From Escalatorville: Wonky McRuthless And The "Happy" New Year...

Sometimes, I step outside myself - look at circumstances surrounding my life and think "Gee. What's the deal with THAT guy?"
Then it hits me.

I assume everyone goes through this every once in a while. After all, a little identity crisis (No. "Crisis" is the wrong term - think less startling, more reflective...) - identity "reconciliation" (that's more like it) never hurt.

Also, it occurs to me that any of our lives, in and of themselves- each with it's own peccadilloes, secrets, shames, pains, and private jokes - could indeed be a heck of a lot worse.

To be who we are and where we are at this point in time is a blessing that tends to get overlooked. Troubles, trifles, mysteries and muses we all have, and oft times focus on; yet, there are so many other possibilities that escape us, paths un-taken, lives we could have lead - that we forget to be thankful for the place we are.

The fact that you are reading this right now means that you are more privileged than over half of the people on the planet. And yet, we can so easily devolve...

Head Check
Every town has it's share of what we once called "Crazies" - the folks that, due to various and sundry circumstances find themselves on the mental edge, and thus the fringes of society. The people that need, but seem not to find, help to improve the health of their noggin. Sometimes, there's a bona fide, physician classified disorder; sometimes the disorder is caused by random or methodical chemical ingestion. Nonetheless, each little burg in our world has those that roam the streets, hurtling through the intersection of 'Insanity Road' and 'Low Meds Boulevard.' Heck, this town has it's allotment, and probably a few other towns portions as well.

In the recent past, I've encountered a local woman on random occasions as she darted about the street, spouting obscure and nonsensical phrases to tourists and residents alike. Almost always - a transparent plastic cup in hand, itself holding the remains of a clear mystery liquid.
(Attn.: burgeoning rock stars, this weeks free band name is 'Mystery Liquid') 

Every now and again, this woman pauses to yell at a sign or a lamppost. Once not too long ago, she poked her head into my place of employ, rolling her eyes half-back in her skull while stating to no one in particular - "I'mNotEvenGonnaSayOHNOMisterBill!" - before popping back out onto the thoroughfare.

Then, one day during the holiday season, she nonchalantly entered the store and proceeded to browse around, eyeing our gewgaws, knick-knacks, and jewellery. Cautiously, I watched as she made her way around the shop. A sketchy situation at best, my co-workers and I awaited her imminent breakdown and departure.

She lingered at a jewellery case for a few moments before I rallied up the courage to walk over and ask:

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

I held my breath and braced myself for a litany of lunacy...

Instead, we had a fully logical and comprehensive conversation revolving around her search for a holiday gift to give to her out of town daughter. A polite and pleasant talk in which she compiled a list of items in the store as potential holiday presents. Gifts in mind, if not in hand, she thanked me for my time, stating she'd be back soon, and gracefully headed out the front door with a pep in her step and a smile on her face.

Three days later, I caught sight of her - barking at a picket fence.

Brain Fart
Random thought: how 'bout we start up a take-out only restaurant, serving the tastiest in portable food - then confuse folks by naming it "Where Zis From?"
Imagine the fun party conversation when you bring in a few trays of our enigmatic delectables!

Or: I'm opening a bakery that makes only erotic breads from exotic sources;
"50 Shades Of Grain"

(p.s. The Enigmatic Delectables will be the opening act on
The 2013 World Tour of Escalatorville Recording Superstars: Mystery Liquid

This Neck O' The Woods
Recently Acquired Malaprops (gathered exclusively in St. Augustine, Florida - The Nation's Oldest City, Y'all!:

-From a man on cellphone reporting to his satellitic friend at the other side of that call, the tale of how another pal had just received a raw deal somewhere in The Ancient City Shop-o-Rama:
"Man, he sure got the short end of the stack."

-From a stroller-bound child (the best kind), as he reminisced to his parents of their moments ago visit to Castillo De San Marcos, tourist mecca and historic fortress/battleground:
"Fire The Canyons, Mommy - Fire The Canyons!"

As one may have guessed, I tend to overhear customers conversations as they come in through the front door of the shop.  Within the recent political season, I was privy to some interesting tete a tetes in regards to many of the political parties and their respective candidates for office.

A couple of regulars entered the store discussing those nefarious and greedy folks of "the entitlement culture" - "...always trying to get something for nothing..."

Moments later, as they were checking out - I made a mental note of their shock when they realized I hadn’t automatically given them a "Locals Discount."

Gut Wrench
I admire folks who are proud of their beliefs. I can even understand the wearing of symbolic imagery to show ones faith. What I don't get, however, is why anyone would chose to wear skin tight jeans with embroidered cubic zirconia crucifixes on the -for lack of a better term- "ass pockets" of said skin tight jeans.
I wonder what the higher powers think of those pants, and I kind of feel like a sinner just for knowing they exist.

End Notes
I cannot tell you enough how much I dig the sound of Booker T and the MGs - always have. The fact that they not only had major hit records of their own ('Green Onions,' 'Hip Hug Her', and on and on) - BUT, played as the backing band for "virtually every recording made at Stax from 1962 through about 1970*" as well as providing the core of the Blues Brothers Band = nothing but praise in my book.

However, there's one thing that always get me. Everytime I hear the band's version of 'Hang Em High' - I always end up singing both 'House of The Rising Sun' and 'Theme to Gilligans Island'.

Based on the overall awesomeness of the group, I'm going to assume this was intentional.

Here - try it yourself:
*Thank you Wikipedia
The Dispatch From Escalatorville
Z.F. Lively, Proprietor/PrettyPrettyPrincess (Did I mention that my house has a mischievous ghost?) for Eventualities/AvengedDualities

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