Welcome to my first blog post—I know everyone is dying to know what I am thinking about! Well , here goes. Now how do I start….I guess I should tell you about a dream I had. (Start playing whole-tone scales now to get the full effect.)
In my dream I was really , really old (I’m guessing at least 45) and I was at some sort of gathering with all of my friends—let’s call it a birthday party. Like most dreams it’s hard to remember most of the details but I remember being frustrated at not being able to go back and visit past times in my life. I remember in the dream trying to remember my first date with my future (now current) wife. I woke up feeling both depressed and angry…what a great way to start the day. This was all triggered probably by the fact that my birthday is next week. (Please send cash!)
Soon those feelings were replaced with the feeling that somehow, someone or something made a mistake designing humans. (That is a topic for a different post)
Sure, we can grow hair and have genitalia but what is up with our memory? It only seems to work fleetingly and in a vague way. When I get old I really want to relive when I had a full head of hair and fully-functioning genitalia. I don’t want to kind of remember it— I want all of the experience—especially in regards to the genitalia part! (Note: I had to look up how to spell genitalia—you would think I would know how to spell something that important.)
(Here is a picture of the hair I used to have. Sorry—no pictures of my genitalia —trust me—they are there!)
So I am putting this out to the Universe—will some of our smartest and sexiest Jazz-loving scientists please fix this problem. I don’t care how you do it—a pill or suppository would be fine . I would prefer a pill—especially if it tastes like a Flinstones Vitamin- which would be wasted as a suppository (Don’t ask me how I know this!).
Or even better—make it into some sort of sci-fi looking apparatus. Like this—
—then not only will I be able to remember the first time I kissed my wife, the first time I played with my rock band, the first time I saw Star Wars or that time when I flipped on my bike and somehow landed on my feet (which of course no one was around to see)…but I will look really cool all the time.
Also—I think if we could take out the bad stuff that would be swell. I really don’t want to remember the cop coming to my door to show me a picture of my dead dad or seeing my Grandpa in the hospital with his head busted up and a tube down his throat. Or the new Star Wars movies.
And other thing—an edit function! On my first date instead of me falling in love with my wife sitting on a curb eating a hot-dog in Ybor city—how about me falling in love with my wife while riding in a spaceship cruising past Jupiter while eating a steak?
See —problem solved! You’re welcome world.