Oh my...I forget I had this picture. This would be me, looking rather spiffy and minus the disaster scene that was my hair the other morning, and the Executive Director of Esperanza, a one Mr. Alan Cox, who is enjoying what appears to be a pre-meal teeth baring before he takes a chunk out of my shoulder!! Good LORD!! Haaaaaa...that's some funny stuff there, Maynard. I can't remember when the picture was taken, but based on what I'm wearing, I'm confident it was at a WGI event, most likely the Las Vegas Regional back in 2001 or thereabouts. Alan and I...we go...WAYYYYYYYYYY back...don't we Alan? :-) You know what you get when you get two Type A personalities together like us?? Well, apparently one turns into a cannibal! But pure hilarity. He and his compatriot Bob James, the OTHER Voice of Southern California, would torment me to NO end at winter guard shows. It was bedlam personified. They'd always come in and do a sound check, yell at me that music wasn't loud enough, and then sit with me for a spell while I was trying to run a show and do all they could to make me laugh. And if you know me like I know me, well, you know I'm rather fun to make laugh. I'll leave it at that...I have no idea what my problem is as of late, but this morning--PING!!!! My eyes open at 0200hrs, as I awaken with the echos of a most disturbing dream that I think is a prophetic message to me. I dreamed that I was next to a school bus of some kind, lots of people milling around, and some one was saying "You should go pet the Tyranosaurus!" Now--I know what you're thinking--and well, in the dream, I thought the same thing!!
"Uhhhhhhhhh...I'm not about to have some dream with homosexual overtones about petting a fricken Tyranosaurus." But what did I do?
Well I had to go look!!!
And there it was...a big ass Tyranosaurus Rex just laying his happy ass on the ground, with some "handler" chick holding it's head. I'm thinking in my dream, "Cool...didn't know these bad boys were still around." I should have been thinking, "WAKE YOUR ASS UP NOW, NO GOOD CAN COME FROM THIS!!!" Said handler chick looks at me, and in a very demanding tone, tells me that I should pet it's belly.
OK...stay with me for a second. At this point in the dream, many red flags should have popped up for me. I'm relatively lucid in my dreaming, and I usually can figure things out in the old Dreamworld and pop myself out of these "I think I inhaled just a tad too much 20 years ago at Cal State Long Beach" type dreams. But for some reason--my alarm system was out of order.
So I pet the stupid T-Rex's stupid stomach while the stupid handler launched into a "The T-Rex was the most fierce dinosaur..." type educational sermon.
What did I say earlier?
NO GOOD WILL COME FROM THIS!!!
And the games began.
Instead of lying docilely in the lap of the handler chick, the T-Rex sort of "looks over it's shoulder" at me, and he turns PURPLE!! This is not going well. He starts to get pissed. I back away. Purple T-Rex decides to stand up and lunge at me. Stupid handler tells me I'm on my own. I start to ARGUE WITH THE HANDLER!! I'm surprised I didn't slap myself in real life while I was asleep for being such an idiot.
The rest I remember is blurry but it had to do with me jumping on top of the bus, screaming for my life, and wondering when VK was going to leave on tour, and where were my Converse shoes.
Truly. I have some mental issues I think I need to have a chat with someone about. Speaking of which, I was in a nearby Costco today during my lunch break from the hell known as the Orange County Fire Authority (more on THIS later), and there was a book there that was SCREAMING for me to look at--"20,000 Dreams--Your Guide to Interpreting Your Dreams".
I looked up purple T-Rex's.
It didn't have very good things to say about me.
That's it...I have to write drill now for the greatest little drum and bugle corps that keeps on pluggin' along--and who just might surprise some people come August back east.
Until then...have a great day...NOW GET OUTTA HERE!!
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