Two Blondes In A Bar

I don't like the genre, but my fate is the stuff found in a country music song. There were two blondes, years of circumstance, and a story.

Over twenty years ago, while in college in Alabama, I came home for a weekend to visit friends in Georgia. We decided to go to a country music bar, despite my disdain for the style. I was sullen, ironic, and angst ridden years before it was cool. Playing the role of put upon friend, I sat at the old wooden pub, nursing a beer. A tall blonde with curly hair and a loud, twangy voice sat down next to me and asked "what the hell are you doing here?" Her candor made me smile. Being twenty years old and having a girl talk to me first; I ran with the moment. Minutes turned into more than an hour when a man's voice over a microphone called the tall blonde with curly hair to the stage. 

"Folks, let's give Trisha Yearwood a big hand!"

One of my friends walked over and leaned into my ear. "Dude what's with the big blonde chick? She's all yours."

I caught eyes looking at me. They were glaring with a shrewd intensity. It was another tall blonde, but very young. She was underage, early teens, so I assumed she was waiting for a babysitter. I looked away as much as I could. Younger girls weren't my thing.

Beer bottles lined the saloon. Cigarette smoke danced over my sight lines. Suddenly, I felt like I was in a situation that had control over me.

After her set, which ended in thunderous applause, the singer rejoined me. By then, my friends were angling to hit another place. Since I didn't want to be there to begin with, my plea to stay fell on deaf ears. With her hands on mine and her blue eyes distracting me from the young girl in the corner, I blew off my chance, and left.

A year later, the tall blonde with curly hair and a big twangy voice became famous. Country music superstardom was hers. I had a cute story to tell my friends. What happened seventeen years after that was just incredible.

I met me wife 3 years ago, today, May 13th, at a Chili's restaurant at the Mall of Georgia. A few dates later she told me about her family members that ran a country music bar where many stars cut their teeth. One of those stars was the tall, curly haired blonde with the big twangy voice. Then my wife asked me this.

"Did you go to the Buckboard with your friends many years ago? I swear I remember this guy who looked like you talking to this girl and I wanted him to stop. I was only thirteen so my family wouldn't let me near the bar, I had to sit in the back."

The girl in the corner glaring at me was my wife. Start the steel guitar and pick a fiddle. My life, whether I wanted it to be or not, is a country music song.

*blogger's note* - This is a writing exercise from my blogger friends at  The Red Dress Club. The prompt is the picture of cigarettes located in the story. The story is true. My wife and I are weird. But we were meant to be together.

E Blogger has been down lately. Please revisit my #100words piece, Threshold. Ava made her agenda known to Caleb. I will write more fiction This weekend, if Blogger behaves.

Today's song is NOT country NOR from Trisha. It's back to the prompt and back to my taste. Here's Oasis' Cigarettes and Alcohol...great song

Threshold

Breann and I were exhausted. We planned breakfast in the cab ride to my hotel. I took a call from Ava. Breann shook her head when I finished.
"Be careful with her Caleb. A necessary evil is still evil."

I smirked and waved goodbye, then turned to see Ava in the lobby. We rode the elevator together to the fourth floor in silence.

"Do you need anything?"

I shook my head no and opened the room door. My phone vibrated. It was my wife. Ava approached, crossing the threshold.

"You're forgetting something Caleb."

She pressed her lips against mine.



*blogger's note* - This is my entry for @velvetverbosity 's 100 Word Challenge located at her site http://www.velvetverbosity.com/ . The one word prompt is FORGETTING. This is also a story episode of a book I am writing. The other eps are here:

1) Synchronicity
2) Personality Crisis
3) Serendipity 6
4) Hot Dog Harbinger
5) Goodbye Stranger
6) The House of Irony
7) Connection
8) Dead Man's Party
9) Hope Springs A Turtle
10) Drown
11)  Toyed
12) Fever
13) The Girlfriend Experience
14) Sympathy for the Devil
15) Tomorrow, The Green Grass
16) Possession
17) Numb
18) Cage
19) Bullet Hits The Bone
20) Shut Your Eyes
21) Lone Justice

Thanks for reading.

Today's song is something I heard on the radio on my way home. It seemed to fit Ava's agenda and the story's mood. Here's Chris Isaak's Wicked Game.

Shimmer in the Sand

I ran away from home for the first and only time when I was 36 years old. It was Thanksgiving, and I didn't feel thankful. I felt lost, resigned, and alone.

I packed two bags and wrote a goodbye letter. I left it on the kitchen counter of the house I rented from my family. I was hoping they would come by unexpectedly, without calling, find the note, and thus allow me to have an excuse for leaving my life.

Two months earlier, I sat in a courtroom and watched who I was, die. When the judge rendered her verdict, I left that person and wandered aimlessly, disconnected, for weeks.

Thanksgiving came quickly and I accepted an offer from a longtime friend, to meet in Key West and do as Ernest Hemingway did when he resided there; drink.

The day I left, my friend called and said he couldn't make the trip. The person I left in the courtroom would have unpacked his bags, felt sorry for his loneliness, and sulked until something ridiculous came along to distract him. The purgatoried me got in my car, and drove 13 hours.

I stopped at a gas station near the beach in Miami. While my car took fuel, I walked a hundred yards and stood in the middle of the shore and comtemplated staying there or even going back home. I realized what those choices would be a metaphor of and I kept going.

I made it to the Keys. The motel shanty I chose, for price, was pathetic looking. It was dingy and unkept. The screen door was broken. There was a grill outside on the tiniest patio you could imagine. The beach, though, was just 30 feet away.

Two days later, Thanksgiving came. I had grilled a steak medium rare, which was apropo for my zombie state. I ate while the waves rolled in and the sound calmed my anxiousness. By my third beer, I decided to walk the 30 feet and try the cold ocean water, despite the 55 degree temperature. Before I reached the tide, I noticed how warm the beach was, so I removed my shoes and socks. I sat down on the berm, and felt the texture of the tan grains. I had a beer in my left hand and I poured a tiny amount into the ground and then ran the pebbles over the wet spot. The symbolism made me smile for the first time in two months. I let go.

A little beer, a good steak, a cool breeze, and some warm sand changed me. I changed myself. I went home the next day and tore up that goodbye letter. I've never written another one.

I'll never forget that Thanksgiving. I became thankful for who I was, and who I am.

*blogger's note* - This is a writing exercise inspired by blogger friends at Sluiter Nation. The matriarch, Katie, has a writer's blog, called The Red Dress Club - http://thereddressclub.blogspot.com/ I, nor my wife, have a red dress, but I do have a sand memory. She asked for me to write about it.


Today's song is special to me. It was playing during when and on the day this memory occurred. The "she" in the song is what I call my conscience, my morality, my essence. She spoke to me a lot that day. Here's one of my favorite songs, Shimmer by Fuel...

Lone Justice

Pain spread throughout my chest and shoulders. I was so dizzy that I fell back in the chair when I tried to check on Breann. Ava's long, straight blonde hair fell around me as I was straddled while she checked my eyes with a pen light. Her smell was more sophisticated than when we were together.

"Caleb, I need to lay you down on the exam table. You have 40 on me so hold my arms as tightly as you can. The dizziness will subside in a few minutes. Breann's already improving."

The table was cold and hard. My vision cleared. Ava sat next to me and texted.

"Oliver is looking over Breann in a room down the hall. You both kind of blacked out. Probably a reaction to the magnet. It's centralizing the metal poisoning and acting for or against the other metals parts inside of you. Once you get more balanced we'll go to the hotel and rest."

I thought about Shane, the girls, my job. Tomorrow was Friday, I could get off, but Juliet had volleyball practice and Esme had something at school.

"Ava, I have to get back home. I haven't even spoken to my wife today. She's probably furious."

Ava looked away and stared at her phone. I looked down and caught the name "Gavin...something".

"Who is that Ava, One of Anson Cluber's people?"

She tossed her hair to the left and smiled.

"Kind of, Caleb. It's the doctor in Dallas we've lined up for Lena Cosburn and Clare Bunsen. I'm telling him how to implant the magnet and what to expect from his patients. They'll be worked on tomorrow.

I rolled my head back and the lights caught me, doubling my vision again.

"What about the other two Ava; Lucas Bonner and Bruce Nolans. There were six of us? Are you taking care of them?"

Ava finished her text, got up, ran her right head over my fore head and frowned.

"Your fever is still high. We need to try and break it before you go back to Georgia. I don't know about those guys. I asked Oliver and Gavin Todd, the doctor in Dallas. They're clueless. I want to stay focused on you. If we can improve your condition, we can get you a new heart before any of the others."

I rolled over onto my stomach. It seemed to help the dizziness. Ava moved her chair to the end of the table so she could see my face.

"Why do you care so much, Ava? I mean, I don't believe Breann's conspiracy theory that you, Wicks and this other guy want to glom robot glory for medical fame. You aren't patient enough to wait for that to play out."

Ava moved her face within a couple of inches on mine and ran her left hand over the three day scruff. She seemed resigned.

"I care about you. I always have. You were the one.....  Caleb, we're friends. You need a doctor you can trust. I know you trust me. It's why you always call when you need me. You're different and I know why. Most of all, I like why you are different. I know who and what you are. You let me know that. I feel like the least I can do is return that trust."

The pain was starting to lose intensity. I sat up without losing balance. I knew I would regret engaging in nostalgia, but the song in my head was from a memory we shared and I had an idea

"Remember that Maria McKee concert we went to right after we started dating?"

Ava smiled and started murmring the lyrics to Sweet Sweet Baby. It was the Lone Justice song in my head. Maria McKee was their singer in the 1980s.

"Yeah, well, I tried to convince you for two days before the concert that the song was from when Maria was in Lone Justice. You argued that it was a new song from Maria. We had a huge fight. At the end of the concert, she played Sweet Sweet Baby as an encore, introducing the song as 'something I wrote when I was with Lone Justice a few years ago'. You looked at me and said 'Justice. Forgiveness'. I gained a lot of respect for you because you dropped your always have to right personality and showed some vulnerability. I need for you to do that now."

Ava smiled and mouthed the word "okay".

"I'd like to see Breann, call home, then we can go to the hotel."

Ava smiled, bit her lip and held my hands as I dropped to the ground and gained my bearings.

'Av, what am I; really?"

She didn't respond right away, We walked through the exam room area and took a right turn. Inside a small room with yellow walls and a bed in the middle, Breann stood on her own while Wicks looked at a laptop. Ava closed the door.

"Caleb, Breann, you two are robotic. But when Oliver and I and hopefully Doctors Cluber and Bulas are through with you in a  few months, you'll be full robot-human hybrids with long, beyond normal lives."

*blogger's note* - This is another story episode from something I have been writing. The other ones are here:
1) Synchronicity
2) Personality Crisis
3) Serendipity 6
4) Hot Dog Harbinger
5) Goodbye Stranger
6) The House of Irony
7) Connection
8) Dead Man's Party
9) Hope Springs A Turtle
10) Drown
11)  Toyed
12) Fever
13) The Girlfriend Experience
14) Sympathy for the Devil
15) Tomorrow, The Green Grass
16) Possession
17) Numb
18) Cage
19) Bullet Hits The Bone
20) Shut Your Eyes

Today's episode is inspired by the prompt; Justice. Forgiveness. by @studio30plus aka http://www.studiothirtyplus.com/ .

Thanks for reading.

Today's song is the one references in the story by Caleb. I was a huge Lone Justice fan in college. They were very underrated. Maria McKee should be making records today. Here's Sweet Sweet Baby....

A Big Bang

I have three story episodes in my que. After back to back posts with story eps, I wanted to give you all a break.

It's been a busy weekend at my house.

Today was Woofstock, the dog park social event at the Suwanee Georgia square. Bobina works for an animal clinic so she took Tay, Tay's friend who is a boy and Goose. Later I joined them with Buddy the golden retriever. That took most of the day. Combined with yardwork, getting Bobina's car emissioned, and hitting the gym, I've had no time to throw together a non fiction post. So, here I am, reduced to pedestrian blog fare. I promise I'll be better.

I have written the entire story. Of course I am rewriting all the time. I haven't come up with a title or an ending I like. The point is, the whole book is done, for the most part.

A few things before I go write and rewrite .

Time and my anxiety issues limit how much television I watch. I keep up with sports, but you can do 47 different things at one time and still watch a ballgame. For me to devote 30 or 60 minutes to something, it has to be good. Recently I started watching Chicago Code with Bobina. It's good, but it comes on at the same time as something Bobina watches with our teenager, Tay, so we DVR Chicago Code. We looked up yesterday and noticed we were three weeks behind. That's 3 hours. What part of three daughters, a real job, writing a book, and paying attention to Bobina does my DVR not understand? The Chicago Code is no longer being watched by me.

Two shows I do catch each week are The Big Bang Theory and Law & Order SVU. SVU is in it's 11th season and it may be time to stop. This past week's show featured the great John Stamos, Lori Singer aka the preacher's whore daughter in the Devil red boots in Footloose, and an absurd storyline about Stamos' character  being a "reproductive abuser". He played a Wall Street lawyer who poked holes in his condoms and impregnated dozens of women then sweet talked them into having the children. It was written and produced by someone called "Speed Weed". The character was killed with an exploding diver's knife. My six and seven year old daughters do better writing and acting on Thursday evenings when they perform for Bobina and I. This SVU was the worst I've ever seen. After 11 seasons and several Emmy wins, it may be time for Benson and Stabler to go away.

The other television program I never miss is The Big Bang Theory. In it's 4th season, Sheldon, Leonard, Penny, Raj, and Howard have been joined by Bernadette and Amy Farrah Fowler (you have to say all three of her names or you aren't a real fan). The show has never been better. I laugh out loud throughout the 22 or so minutes. This week's episode, The Wildebeest Implementation was so good, I'm almost afraid to watch next week for fera of disappointment. It's consistently funny, and the acting, especially from Emmy winner Jim Parsons as Sheldon, is excellent.

Earlier in the week, my blogger friend, @jana0926 aka Jana from http://janasthinkingplace.com/ tweeted that it was her goal to learn every word to the Big Bang Theory theme song. It's written and performed by the usually crappy Barenaked Ladies, but I make an exception because it's a television theme and it's about smart people.

Today's song is by Jana's request. I need to learn it too. My kids are getting smarter than me. I need something that makes me competitive with them. Hope Mariska Hargitay watches The Big Bang Theory. She'll know what a good show looks like.

Shut Your Eyes

I looked straight ahead as Wicks clumsily removed the counter from my left side. Ava was inches from my face as her hands were ready cut my right shoulder.

"I'll put this near the cut you got on my family farm's barbed wire fence. We had fun stitching that one."

The irony of my scars was lost on Ava. I looked into her mischievious eyes and smiled. Breann stared at me, disapprovingly. The magnet's intense warmth sent pain through me. I shut my eyes.

"Done, Caleb. Need to get you lying down."

Ava's whisper reopened my eyes. We were alone.

*blogger's note* - This is another episode of the story I'm writing. The one word prompt is FAMILY and the style is courtesy of @velvetverbosity aka http://www.velvetverbosity.com/ 's 100 word challenge.

The other episodes are here:
1) Synchronicity
2) Personality Crisis
3) Serendipity 6
4) Hot Dog Harbinger
5) Goodbye Stranger
6) The House of Irony
7) Connection
8) Dead Man's Party
9) Hope Springs A Turtle
10) Drown
11)  Toyed
12) Fever
13) The Girlfriend Experience
14) Sympathy for the Devil
15) Tomorrow, The Green Grass
16) Possession
17) Numb
18) Cage

19) Bullet Hits The Bone

Thanks for reading...

Today's song is fromn Northern Ireland's Snow Patrol. Their song Open your eyes is probably more suited lyrically, but not musically. Shut Your Eyes has that haunting guitar and piano combination that suits this mood.

The Bullet Hits The Bone

Breann held my right hand with her left and leaned into me with most of her body weight.

"This migraine is horrible, Caleb. I need to sit down."

The exam room was brightly lit. Breann winced.

"Ava, can we dim the lights and get her something to lay down on. Whatever you're going to do to us, do it to her first."

Ava turned off the lights to the front part of the room and found a large, black, desk chair. I sat Breann down. I could feel her heart beating as I held her still.

"Ava, tell us what's going on."

From a hermetically sealed container that looked like fancy tupperware. Dr. Oliver Wicks, removed a small, oval grey object that looked like a bullet. Then turned toward us.

"This is a magnet. Magnetic therapy is used on mostly on animals. There's been some success with humans that have joint problems like arthritis but never with something like metallic poisoning. In theory, this magnet will draw the metals from your heart area, central nervous system, and brain stem into one pool, thus reducing the radiation effects until we can, well, see, if a new heart can be transplanted."

Ava was staring at Wicks, as if to telling him to shut up with her eyes, and get his stuff done. Wicks stopped talking. Ava had scrubbed her hands and arms and was putting on surgical gloves. Two scalpels were next to Wicks on the stainless steel table. Ava stood between Wicks and I and took over the conversation.

"Breann, Caleb, I'm going to make an incision. As long as the magnet is placed away from your heart area and above your waist the metals sould find their way to the it. You can choose where we put the magnet, for scarring purposes. I suggest one of your shoulders. There's plenty of tissue and muscle to take a cut."

Breann rubbed her temples and looked up at Ava intently. She mustering strength.

"How do you know this will work? I mean, these things could cause infections or our bodies could reject them, right?"

Ava hated being questioned. She picked up the first scalpel.

"You have a choice, Breann. Take the magnet and buy yourself some time and health or have that headache and that heart palpatation that's slowly kill you. As I told, Caleb, I am your your only hope right now."

Breann wasn't going to be controlled. She looked ready to fight until the magnet was put in her body.

"I want to know that Dr. Anson Cluber is going to help me, Caleb, and the other four. Band aids are temporary. I want something permanent. I also want it in writing."

I had seen the look on Ava's face before. We were 23 years old, at a wedding together, and my drunk cousin, Helena, told Ava what she really thought of her. Instead of slapping Breann, like she did to Helena, she looked at Wicks' and nodded to him. Wicks removed a zip drive from his sports coat and walked over to Breann.

"Inside of there are emails and phone calls between Oliver, myself, and Anson Cluber setting up yours, Caleb's, and your friends Lena and Clare's heart surgeries for the first of the year. Of course that depends on how sick each of your hearts are in January or February. We'll need the three months or more to get these magnets to work, centralize the metals, and set up other logistics. The deal is, Oliver and I are yours and Caleb's doctors. Lena Cosburn and Clare Bunsen are being set up with a another doctor in Dallas."

Breann wasn't through. She had found comfort in poking Ava with a stick.

"You've been watching us, haven't you, you stalker. Lena told me she had some anonymous internet attention since I started talking to her. You and your boy Oliver Wicks want in on the guinea pig robot babies, don't you."

The storm inside Ava was swirling. She gripped the scalpel forcefully, and sat down in front of Breann.

"Show me where you want the magnet or I'll put somewhere where you won't ever be able to wear a bikini. Not that you should anyway."

Breann smiled and leaned back in the chair.

"Just tell me I'm right Dr. Ava. You looked up your ex boyfriend, got him to call you. Then tracked me and Lena and Clare over the computer. Now, you want your name in the New England Journal of Medicine or your own Dr. Blondie show on the E! channel."

Ava breathed in and curled her dry, pinkish lips. The scalpel was making it's way toward Breann's throat.

"If you shut up, I'll make a vertical incision in your unfortunate small B-Cup bra line. That should be really easy for you to cover."

Breann smiled and nodded okay to Ava. Breann unbottoned her her purple blouse, and moved her white bra strap to the side.

"Caleb called me. He always does when he needs me. Right, Caleb?"

I ignored her and shrugged at Wicks, who was preparing to put the magnet inside Breann's shoulder.

"Breann, you need a doctor, locally, that can keep a secret, have your best interests and his close to the vest. If it were up to me, you'd rot with your migraines and decaying heart. But, to Caleb, who really matters here, you're important. So I called Oliver. He's a very good physician. Don't worry, you don't have to say thank you."

Wicks moved over to Breann and implanted the oval magnet inside her shoulder. I couldn't see much so I talked Breann through it.

"It is good for you Breann? You're like the six hundred dollar woman now."

She laughed then cringed in pain.

"It's not bad. The magnet is really warm. It feels like it's absorbing through my skin down to my bones."

Wicks and Ava looked concerned but said nothing as he moved away from Ava and Ava began stitching the incision.

"You're next Caleb. We'll remove the counter from your side then give you the magnet."

I took Wicks' chair from him. Then sat next to Breann as Wicks finished stitching her.

Breann smiled at me and closed her eyes to handle her pain.

"You can cut me anywhere, Ava. Chicks dig scars."

*blogger's note* - This is another episode of a story I am writing. This one is based on a prompt THE STORM by @Studio30plus - http://www.studiothirtyplus.com. The other episodes are here:
1) Synchronicity
2) Personality Crisis
3) Serendipity 6
4) Hot Dog Harbinger
5) Goodbye Stranger
6) The House of Irony
7) Connection
8) Dead Man's Party
9) Hope Springs A Turtle
10) Drown
11) Toyed
12) Fever
13) The Girlfriend Experience
14) Sympathy for the Devil
15) Tomorrow, The Green Grass
16) Possession
17) Numb
18) http://lance-myblogcanbeatupyourblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/cage.html

Today's song reflects the title, wneh The Bullet Hits The Bone. It's from Golden Earring's 1982 music noir song, The Twilight Zone.

So Into You

You,

There's not a lot of time until your niece gets picked up by your mother in law. After that happens you need to take your oldest daughter to cheerleading tumbling. There's nothing more important than that today.

So let's quickly run over some things.

You're kinda sorta almost awesome. I know you don't believe it, but you are, and I don't want to argue.

You've been through a lot and that overthinker, anxiety ridden part of you likes to dwell on it sometimes but you have come through it well. Look around, you are loved. Bobina is head over heels in love with you. Tay, Bug and Goose love you. You are an excellent husband and father to them.

Most of all you've learned to like me, you know, you. If you miss a day at the gym you don't freak out and not eat for two days. If you are too busy to write one day, you don't stay up all night the next banging out thousands of words. You've learned to relax, a little bit. You and I know that you can be a better person but right now, today, you're a really good person.

Two raises, a promotion, and a bonus, all in what, 4 weeks? You are doing great at your job. You have a career at a time when a lot of people are struggling. You work hard. You do it for yourself as much as you do it for your women. You won't admit it, but you do.

Your writing is getting better. It's surpassed the level it was at in college right before you gave up. You won't do that again. You like to too much.

Don't worry about how people will read this. Judy gave you a writing assignment, you did it, and it's ok. Writing a "love letter" to yourself is good. The last time you did it was almost five years ago, in therapy. This time you're writing it for fun, not mental health reasons.

You're passionate about the right things. Music, writing, your work, and those 4 gorgeous females in your house. You've put them first. No one is telling you how to be you. You are just getting it done. The right people know and care. You have a great best friend.

Congratulations on where you're at in your life. At 40 years old, you're doing better than a lot of people.

Your mother in law is in the driveway and she's going to want to talk to her son in law. Your wife probably needs another kiss or seven. You haven't gotten Tay to roll her 15 years old eyes at you once this afternoon, get to that. It makes you feel good.

Good job, you.


*blogger's note* - This is a writing assignment/challenge from my friend Judy aka @jclementwall from her runaway hit website http://zebrasounds.net/
She wrote a post about self love, not the Dancing With Myself by Billy idol kind, but being confidnet in who you are and acknowledging it. Normally I don't do something like this, but i don;t give myself enough credit and it was a writing job. I encourage all of you to not only visit Judy on twitter or her site but to write a letter to yourself.

Today's song is a break from the normal as is the post. The Atlanta Rhythm Section is a band from down the street from where I live. I used to listen to them with my mom and dad when we were in the car when I was a kid. Georgia Rhythm, my favorite ARS tune doesn't really fit the subject so here's some Georgia 1970s rock and roll, So Into You....

Worst Of Me

As I pulled on the sweater Ava bought for me I doubled over in pain. She stepped toward me, putting her right hand on neck, massaging my shoulder.

"Caleb, sit down and take these."

Ava leaned me against the parking ballard and put two pills in my right hand.

"I think I've had enough today. I can barely see straight."

Ava smiled and put her hands on my face, gently.

"They're for nausea. You have sedatives and anxiety medication in your system. You are also suffering from metallic poisoning. Those pills will keep you from throwing up or feeling vertigo."

The way she looked at me alternated from opportunity to passion. Until we got to New York I was going to have to humor her. I took the medicine.

We didn't speak to each other as we hurried through ticket check, security and found our terminal. With ten minutes before the flight boarded, we sat by ourselves in the corner. Ava picked up her small, black handbag and pulled out a twenty dollar bill.

"I've become a coffee addict over the past few years. Did you ever develop a taste for it?"

Sourfaced, I shook my head no.

"Caleb, I sedated you so I could put the counter on your side. The only other way to see how much metal you had coursing through your body was exploratory surgery. We didn't have time for that. I'm trying to help you but this attitude is getting us nowhere. In less than 24 hours, you will either feel a lot better, and have a lead on getting a new heart from Dr, Cluber, or you'll know how long you have to live. I swear to you I will do everything I can to see that either of those options happen. Plus we get to spend time together. Admit it, it's not so bad."

I'd heard that a medical degree gives the person license to be an arrogant jerk.

"Av, I have a wife I am in love with, three daughters who need me, and at least 5 other people in as bad of shape as I am. None of those people are being serviced right now. I'd rather get on a plane with an terrorist cell member than you. I'll take a diet Dr. Pepper."

Ava's dark blue eyes grew black as she furrowed her brows and leaned into my face, just a couple of inches away. I thought she was going to spit in my face.

"I've had it with your snobbiness. I am your only hope. It's time for you to get that! Any other doctor would deny that you had robotic parts inside your body and that you're dying. You're dying Caleb! Stop moping around like a little girl. That's I couldn't stand about you when we dated. You always held me to some impossible standard, then got snotty and mean when I disappointed you. Dr. Cluber and Dr. Bulas gave you life. Now, I'm going to save it. So stop being an ungrateful! I'm getting you a water. Having soda on your stomach with all the meds in you will made you sick."

I slept through the plane flight. I needed some communication distance from Ava. I woke up once and saw her typing on her Iphone. I briefly wondered if the person on the other end of the message was Anson Cluber, Oliver Wicks, Breann, or my wife.

Ava and I were inside the terminal before we spoke.

"Av, I need to hit the restroom, then call home."

She had relaxed and smiled.

"Yeah, me too. I like it when you call me Av. It reminds me of things."

I ignored her and dialed Shane. She didn't answer so I called my oldest daughter.

"Hey are you okay? Mom's freaking out. How sick are you?"

At 15, Juliet was smarter than I was at that age. I didn't even bother to tell her something sugar coated.

"It's my heart sweetie. There's a doctor in New York who can help me. We're on our way to see him. Tell your mom I'll call her in a couple of hours. I love you."

Ava walked over.

"Caleb, Dr. Oliver Wicks is waiting for us at Lenox Hill Hospital. I assume you've checked in with Breann. He has everything set. Hopefully in about an hour or so you and her will be better."

She tried to make small talk during the cab ride. I listened as she whined about her husband. He was in beverage sales to hotels and bars. My cynicism suspected infidelity. I'm the only fool who wouldn't cheat on Ava.

I saw Breann waiting by the Emergency Room entrance as our cab arrived. A pale and shaken Breann spoke first.

"Hey, you made it. You look like hell."

I laughed.

"Yeah, so do you. Hey, so, Breann, this is Dr. Ava Pennington. We used to know each other. Now she just sedates me, kidnaps me, and takes me on adventures."

Breann squeezed her face tightly and reluctantly extended her hand. I chuckled to myself, thinking this was one blonde she wasn't going to be into in any way.

"Hello, Breann. I'm guessing you've had a chance to experience Caleb's sarcastic personality in short time. It's nice to meet you. Hopefully I can help you feel better soon."

We walked into the hospital and Breann leaned into me.

"Wow. I hate her a lot. It's going to take a lot of work for me to keep your wife from having you sleep in the backyard."

I smiled, felt loved by Breann's cattiness, and leaned toward her.

"Ava's a necessary evil. She's the hip bone connected to the Anson Cluber thighbone."

Breann rolled her eyes as Ava opened the door to an large exam room on the basement floor. A small man wearing round glasses and white surgical gloves was laying medical instruments on a stainless steel table.

"Hi Oliver, we're ready."

Breann and I looked at each other then at the the doctors suspiciously.

This is another episode of a story I am writing. The other entries are here:

1) Synchronicity
2) Personality Crisis
3) Serendipity 6
4) Hot Dog Harbinger
5) Goodbye Stranger
6) The House of Irony
7) Connection
8) Dead Man's Party
9) Hope Springs A Turtle
10) Drown
11)  Toyed
12) Fever
13) The Girlfriend Experience
14) Sympathy for the Devil
15) Tomorrow, The Green Grass
16) Possession
17) Numb
18)
http://lance-myblogcanbeatupyourblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/cage.html

Thanks for keeping up with the story.


Today's song is something that has played in my head on and off while writing this story. It was mentioned by a couple of readers as well. Here's Foo Fighter's Best of You...

The Magna Carta of Music Snobbery

Take a look around this site. You see a lot of youtube music videos, talk about music, and pop culture references involving music. After my family and maybe my writing, music is what matters to me the most.

Along with my weirdness and robot-human hybrid inanity, I make everything harder than it should be. I can't just like music. I have to love it, own it, worship it, and organize it. As a kid, I would categorize my 45s (I'm old), albums and cassettes by genre, style, or mood. I haven't changed much. When I went to college I discovered punk music. It metamorphized me into what you peasants call a music snob.

I was lied to as a kid. By the time I was 16, I was to believe that Van Halen was the greastest rock and roll band of all time. I was misguided. I found The Clash, The Ramones, The Damned, The Sex Pistols, The New York Dolls and suddenly I realized I had to be better at choosing my music.

A few years ago, when I started becoming involved with Al Gore's internet, I had a music blog on myspace. Before that social media became the crack den of viral communication, I wrote music reviews, concert reviews, and conencted with other music fans/journalists. The tie that binded most of us was our snobbery.

I get asked quite often, "what do you think of this band or artist?" and "why do you hate this band and like this other band". The truth is I listen to the same stuff everyone listens too, I'm just weird about what I like and what I despise. What follows, are a set of rules or laws. I call it the Magna Carta of Music Snobbery.

1) Liking Van Halen is still ok. Liking anything Van Halen after Diamond David Lee Roth is not ok. Dave is Halen. This isn't arguable. Sammy Hagar is a nice man who writes decent songs of his own and makes a fine tequila. I don't acknowledge his time with the Vna Halen brothers.

2) Aerosmith ended after they kicked heroin. It's ok to dig Joe Perry solo. That band is a fraud after 1986.

3) Journey, Bon Jovi, The Eagles, Nickelback are the four horsemen of the musical apocalypse. They represent formulaic rock music made for crass comemrcial reasons with vaccous lyrics and no heart. We can argue other bad bands, but those four are the worst. Period.

4) The Red Hot Chili Peppers are overrated. Under the Bridge is not a great song, it's sap.

5) R.E.M. is really good but they're not great. At one point they were underrated - mid 80s/I.R.S. records era, then overrated - Monster album, then rated about right - where they are now. Husker Du, Let's Active, The Replacements, and The Alarm were all better symbols of the 1980s college music era.

6) Punk music is great because of it's point and approach. Stripping away the pretensions of rock and roll is a good thing. Outcasts starting punk bands in their garage is the spirit of music. This is why music snobs dig punk.

7) Nirvana is more important than good. I like their music more than the average music snob. I think Kurt Cobain was ahead of his time and possibly John Lennon-esque. Nirvana breaking the seal on grunge, the Northwest music scene, and helping hammer the death nail of hair metal are the reasons they should be celebrated. We can argue their artistic contributions.

8) Liz Phair's Exile in Guyville is NOT a song by song answer to the Rolling Stones Exile on Main Street. It is, however, the best low fi rock record of the 1990s. Liz shatters the myth that women can't write good anthems. Go listen to Never Said. Thank me later.

9) The Rolling Stones should be judged for their whole career, not just the late 60s and early 70s when they were the most awesome and dangerous band on the planet. Mick and Keith were great songwriters. They're not anymore.

10) Led Zepplin belongs in anyone's top five greatest band list. I don't care if they're 5 or 1 or in between those numbers, they belong. They created the Hard Rock/Metal genre along with Black Sabbath. They mastered the art of the concept album. They also changed the rules of the game as far as how rock bands are compensated for their live shows and thus how music is recorded.

11) Paul Westerberg is a genius. So is Elvis Costello. I don't have to explain either man to anyone. Just listen to their records.

12) Bob Dylan's voice is immaterial to his greatness. He made popular music literate, political, well meaning, and artful. He wins. Also, his version of All Along The Watchtower is better than Jimi Hendrix. It's Bob's song. Get over it.

13) After the Black album, Metallica doesn't exist. Some snobs will tell you this is the case after Master of Puppets, but I dig And Justice for All and some Black album songs.

14) Digital downloading is not only ok, it's in the spirit of how most reasonable artists view their creations. Artists make very little on teh sale of their Cds. They make the majority of their money on merchandise, licensing, live show take, and endorsements. There is no such thing as stealing their music. It's sampling their songs, then forming a fan relationship with said artist.

15) Reality shows featuring music are garbage. American idol goes against everything art is supposed to be. You can't "create" stars. Stars create themselves.

16) Pop music doesn't suck. Just most of it.

17) It's ok to sing anything you want at a kareoke bar. Unless you are accompanied by a live band, then, you better sing something awesome and music snob approved or you will burn in hell with Vanilla Ice and The Bay City Rollers.

18) If you are in Memphis, Savannah, downtown New York City, a coffee house in Seattle or anywhere with music in the streets and you don't stop and listen to musicians pouring their hearts out for spare change, you have no soul. Bar bands and itinerant musicans are the liveblood or good music. Listen to them and Tip them.

19) Motown music is awesome. But it belongs in the 1960s and 1970s. Current artists remaking those songs are lazy and second rate.

20) Thriller is very overrated. So is most of Michael Jackson's catalog. Off The Wall is a good record, after that, his stuff is mostly average. He was a better performer than songwriter and producer.

21) If you can't quote all of the dialogue from High Fidelity (the music snob's Citizen Kane), then you aren't a true music fan.

22) John Lennon is the only Beatle who made decent solo records. Away from The Beatles, most of Paul, george, and Ringo's stuff is lousy. Yoko Ono did not break up The Beatles. The Beatles broke up the Beatles because they all knew Paul was going to write Silly Little Love Songs.

23) Arguing about the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is only permitted if an artist is not in. That institution is a Jann Wenner butt kissing fest and largely unimportant.

24) KISS belongs in the rock and roll Hall of Fame.

25) Country music before the year 1980 is probably ok. After that, you need help. Don't do it.

26) Your record collection is only as good as the new CD that no one else has heard yet.

These laws are fluid. I have a good music journalist friend, Chuck who doesn't like The Beatles. People's tastes are all over the place.I get asked about pop music a lot. I like Christina Aquilera, Rihanna, Matchbox Twenty, Counting Crows, Rob Thomas (solo), Katy Perry's Waking up in Vegas, Rick Springfield's Jessie's Girl, and certain 70s, 80s, and 90s pop songs like Duncan Sheik's Barely Breathing.

The two music sites I visit A LOT are

http://www.deadjournalist.com - I occasionally write there. Let me know and I'll direct you to my posts. The site owner, Chuck aka @_deadjournalist on teh twitterz is a good dude.

http://www.musicsnobbery.com - He does a great job. Dude sees a lot of shows, and keeps new music as the focus.


Bottom line is a love music and listen to a lot of it. Whether it's the new CDs by The Strokes, Foo Fighters, Smith Westerns, Yuck, MAKEOUT! or older stuff. I am listening to it all the time.

Today's song is from an album, Let It Be, and a band, The Replacements, that any music lover and/or snob should own and listen. Here's I Will Dare. Play it loud.