ILLNESS

Saturday, October 1, 2005

The Trial

Sometimes you get swept up in a current not of your own choosing. Today was one of those days. I accidently got caught in a whirlpool of no escape. It was one of my Colorado nightmares. I ended up at "Spud Days" in Carbondale. "Spud Days" is a celebration of Carbondale's rich culture of potato harvesting. Add to it a crowd of people, longhaired fancy mountain dudes on trust funds, and a Skynyrd/Johnny Cash/Whatever-sorta-rocks-in-a-kinda-westernish-way cover band, and, well, you get the picture. I suppose if I was a Colarada chick with tight jeans and feathered hair that would've been really cool in 1978 and it's so 70s that's it's almost really cool now because of the ironic retroness, I would'a really dug the event. I would'a got myself some beer, food, held up a lighter (even though it was high noon) and yelled "Play Freebird! Freebird!" at the cover band. I woulda really dug the fancy man that was an almost-Carl/some distant Carl relative that was so thin he looked like he'd snap in two.

But I'm not that way. And even when I was the closest to being that way (not that I ever was that way, mind you, but there was a time when I was much closer), I still would not have felt good about being there. Not only that, it was just a big crowd of people out in the sun. I'd rather be alone in a dark cemetary. I mean there were kids at booths painting potatoes. What the hell was that? I completely avoid stuff like that in Wisconsin, so why was I at this event in Colorado? And come to think of it, Carl would rather be alone too. That's all part of being Carl. Stan and I actually leave town when our neighborhood holds their yearly Atwoodfest. So if I can't even walk down the block for that, why am I at a Fest a thousand miles away? How the hell did this happen?

Me: We're going where?
Host: Down there.
Me: With all the people?
Host: Yes
Me: (horrified) Oh... (looking at Stan and speaking with my eyes) GET...ME...OUT...OF...HERE

But maybe it was all worth it, not just for the pretty Sandstone Egg that Stan got me at one of the booths (not the booth where the kids were spud-paintin'), but to witness the Nightmare in Action...to hear the cover band burst into "Sweet Home Alabama" right as I was walking by was a thousand laughs, and to see FancyCarl strut by to the accompaniment of some generic-y Eagles-ish tune was worth a million more.

That was my Colorado nightmare. Stan had one earlier in the day, his own personal Colorado nightmare. It had to do with some semblance of a church camp and hayrides. And there are many more Colorado nightmares...those are just a few.

Some day I will explain Carl. I've been meaning to get to that. Most importantly, Carl comes in many varieties, like flora and fauna native to certain regions. There's most importantly, THE Carl, Colorado Carl, who has evolved throughout the decades. But there's probably a Carl for every state. There's a Wisconsin Carl, a Michigan Carl, and they're different from Arizona Carl or Maine Carl. This variety was a pseudoCarl, a real fancyman. MY Carl, the Original Carl, is hardly fancy, which is the essence of his Carlness.

Posted by Ann on 10/01/05@10:58 PM CST ..::Link::..Whisper or Scream?

Sunday, September 25, 2005

Well, I'm glad that didn't happen to ME...

Ok, you've got to believe me, I was looking for some fractal software and came across the site "the shroomery" and found this post. Despite the fact it sounded like hell, I was cracking up so bad as I was reading it. Events just kept getting worse. I'd like to see a film made of this guy's episode.

Really, I was looking for fractal software. You believe me, don't you?

Posted by Ann on 09/25/05@04:08 PM CST ..::Link::..A Whisper Inside.

By Ann @ 10:58 PM CST:10:01:05 ..::Link::..Whisper or Scream?

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