Scions and poltergeists

I guess it's too late for my son to be a scion. Sorry Tim. Just what are the qualifications for being a scion? Can scionage skip a generation? Personally, I'd rather be a fellow. Maybe it's not too late to be a fellow somewhere.

I saw a unbelievably transcendentally beautiful girl at the grocery store the other day. You could tell that she tried to dress down and not call attention to herself, but it was as if she had a spotlight trained on her. As I watched the men in the store stop dead in their tracks and stare at her and follow her around, it occured to me that having a perfect, natural beauty is in a lot of ways like having a big growth coming out of the side of your head. People don't see anything else. People will stare dumbfounded. People will try to treat you normally, but everyone knows what everyone's thinking. Next time I see someone with a big growth coming out of the side of his or her head, I'll think of this beautiful girl at the grocery store and marvel at my own insight.

I have a simple, surefire way of making myself smile and be happy for a couple of moments. It works every time. All I have to do is give my dog some peanut butter. Anyone who's done it knows what I mean. The dog loves it, and it gives me a good laugh. I recommend it.

Come to think of it, most foods I like can be made tastier by adding either some peanut butter, a little onion, or some cheese of some sort. Not all on the same dish.

We have a poltergeist in our apartment. Once every three or four months, the towel ghost messes up the towels on the rack in the bathroom. I make it a habit to straighten the towels on the towel rack perfectly at night, and sure enough a couple of days ago I awoke to find them all mussed up. It hadn't happened for a while, but I'm pretty sure it was the work of the towel ghost. Next thing you know, she'll (I think it's a she) be starting in on the dishtowels or the paper towels. Go to the light, towel ghost.

I Saw Him Standing There

I've been a musician all my life, and I used to work in a big recording studio. A while back, there was this guy who used to hang around in the lobby of the studio for hours and try to flirt with the studio manager Tiffany (not her real name), who was about six feet tall and strikingly well put together. Anyway, this guy's name was Brian and he had long blonde hair, and he was really pale - sort of opaque or translucent - with pale blue eyes. He was pretty annoying, and I don't think Tiffany particularly liked him, either. I had heard that he was a guitar player, but I never worked with him or heard him play.

One night years later, I was watching an HBO-I-think-it-was special with Paul McCartney playing in Red Square in Russia. And there playing guitar in Paul McgoddamnCartney's band in Red Square was - yep! - Brian the annoying opaque guy. Sure enough, Super Bowl comes around, there's - yep! - Brian the annoying opaque guy playing at halftime in the SupergoddamnBowl. Brian plays guitar when Paul McCartney plays bass, and Brian plays bass when Paul McCartney plays piano or guitar. Unbelievable.

His name's Brian Ray, and he's probably a real nice guy. I'm sure he's got a website and everything. He probably plays really well. Am I jealous? Damn right I am. I wonder if Tiffany would go out with him now.