GRUMPY
I have this special friend... let's call her Pork Products. Why? Because she likes to call me Pork Products and I just think it's only fair that if she calls me Pork Products, we all call her Pork Products. It's a kind of reverse psychology thing. She started calling me Pork Products so I started calling her Pork Products in the hope that she would cease and desist. Alas, she calls me Pork Products with even more enthusiasm than before. A typical conversation might go like this:
“Hello, Pork Products.”
“Hello Pork Products!”
“No you're Pork Products!”
“No you are.”
“You are the original Pork Products.”
“No you are.”
It's this kind of sophisticated mind play that keeps us bonded. We're like a couple of classical Greek philosophers when we get together.
Imagine my relief, then, when sitting in Mission Dolores Park in San Francisco one such conversation is interrupted by a couple of trippers who are quite clearly tripping hard, one of whom is a self professed “Qualified High Priest of Diana” who wants to bless me and The Dreaded One because we are Australian and he studied Australia for a fifth grade project.
“Oh yeah,” he enthuses. “I love Australia. I want to go to Sydney and Perth and Melbourne and Adelaide and Brisbane and and and I want to see marsupials and... did I mention that I'm a High Priest of Diana and can I hold your hands and give you a blessing?”
“Sure dude,” I reply, “knock yourself out.”
High Priest's friend rocks back and forth as he starts rapping about how cool it is to be sitting on a hill with Australian marsupials, High Priest takes The Dreaded One and me by the Hand, and Pork Products just about wets herself with laughter, because this is exactly the kind of shit that goes down daily in Mission Dolores Park.
High Priest (highest one ever, I suspect), looks to the heavens and starts his blessing. The words spill forth and weirdly... so weirdly, he is coherent. What he is saying all makes sense. It's like he's tapping into something higher. It's an actual blessing. It's like he knows us. It's like he's on the hotline to God. It's like he's picking up the news from the cosmos, and unbelievably, I feel something. I am moved. Some of that emotion stuff, it stirs. WTF?
I can see The Dreaded One has been moved too. Even my beloved Pork Products has stopped giggling; she has been moved as well. This guy clearly knows his shit.
“By the way,” High Priest of Diana tells me at the end of the blessing, “while I was holding your hand I was picking up the vibes of... Zeus, Poseidon and Buddha.”
I look across at Pork Products. She hasn't moved, but quite clearly she has mentally smacked herself in the forehead. This is the very last thing she wants to hear. She's been trying so hard to make this Pork Products thing stick, and then this. Zeus. Poseidon. Buddha.
Excellent.
Am I going to pick up this ball and run with it? Am I going to milk this for every last drop? Am I going to battle Pork Products with my divinity and mythology and all round coolness? Um, yes?
San Francisco, I love you.
Grumpy is Lee Bemrose (AKA Zeus, Poseidon and Buddha). They are contactable at leebemrose@hotmail.com
5 comments:
And San Fran loves you, Original Pork Products. :D
Soy Chips wants to know when you're back in Australia... I thought you were coming back for Rainbow Serpent?
Shut up, PP :)
You thought correctly, MM. Am in Bondi now, leaving for Rainbow tomorrow to arrive on Friday. I had to write about that encounter in San Fran because it was just so priceless.
Is Buddha going to battle Pork Products?
Buddha loves Pork Products.
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