Starman 6

It was a few hours later that he was suddenly woken from his sleep. Lifting his head he saw that he was surrounded by four men looking down on him. One nudged him with his boot.
"What's a white man like you doin' sleepin' around here.  'Ain't you got some place you should be?"
"My name's Buddy", was all he could say.
"Well, Buddy, maybe we should find you some alternative accommodation."
"Yeah, like Lake Michigan", said another and they all laughed.
Buddy could not really understand what they were saying, but the way they were saying it made him very uncomfortable and scared for his life. He was not accustomed to any form of physical violence but he could somehow tell that these men were. Buddy started shaking, not from the cold but the sheer terror of what these men might be capable of doing to him. He had heard the reports of previous investigators who had observed humans being violent to other creatures and, sometimes, each other. He curled up into a shivering ball, afraid of what might follow. As he did one of his tormentors could see a part of Buddy's alien space suit revealed beneath his clothes as he huddled on the ground.
"Hey what's that?" he questioned. But before anyone could answer a booming voice came from behind...
"Leave him be!"
The voice demanded attention and it came from a man in a dark coat and hat with two larger men standing behind him.
"Leave him, and go find some other business to attend to."
The instruction came with such power and authority that Buddy's tormentors were forced to comply. That and the scowling faces of the two other large men were all that was needed to send them running away from their fearful prey.
"I was right John Lee, that's the little white guy who was with Buddy Guy last night."
The man with the booming voice was John Lee Hooker, another bluesman living, playing and recording in Chicago. His two large friends had just been filling him in on the exceptional night they had experienced watching Buddy Guy and the little white foreign guy who lifted every body with his enthusiasm for the music and for Buddy Guys guitar solos in particular.
John Lee introduced himself to Buddy and took him back to the place where he and some friends had been staying. He gave him some food and even found him a room to stay in as he realised this foreigner was all alone with no family or friends and needed some looking after.

It's Just a Bad Day

He never thought of himself as a bad person. He never thought of himself as a victim. But one day...

It had been a bad day at work. His boss had actually yelled at him - he had never heard his boss yell at anyone. Strictly speaking it was not his fault. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and everyone's mistakes landed in his lap all at the same time so that the boss thought he was just useless - and told him so. It would cost the company a lot of money, it will probably cost him his job. He couldn't wait to get out of there and get home and get away from it all. The train was late, naturally. He glumly trudged out of the station with all the other commuters to the car park but while they all got to their cars and headed for home there was just an empty space where he had left his car. He looked around, he checked. Yes, this was where he left it. It was gone. Not his car. He loved that car. It was like his life partner, but it had now been abducted.

He walked home, an hour and a half it took to get to his street. By which time he was ready just to slump into bed and forget that today had ever happened. But as he neared his house he could see something was not right. A window was broken - curtains waved at him with no glass to hold them in anymore. The front door was wide open, through which he could see a mess of destruction inside. He stumbled in over the remains of his possessions. He didn't have much, but anything he had of value was gone. His neighbor saw or heard nothing. The police, who came after he called could do nothing. He looked at what was left - nothing.

He couldn't stay in the house, it didn't feel like his anymore. He didn't have anyone he could stay with as any friends or family had lost touch while he concentrated on work. His car was the closest he had to a friend and it was gone. He felt helpless, angry, alone. He felt the same way he did when he was randomly punched in the face at school by some meat head who needed to show his physical prowess by beating up a defenseless nerd. Or when he had to find some out if the way part of school to secretly spend lunch time when he heard that the alpha male of the school didn't like the way breathed.

So he just walked.

And walked.

He walked along grinding his teeth in anger. Then walked along with tears streaming down his face. Then walking along kicking garbage cans as he returned to anger again.

After walking himself almost to exhaustion he came to an all night service station and collected himself together enough to stumble inside for a drink. Just as he was handing over his money he was roughly pushed aside as a balaclavaed thug pointed a gun at the head of the attendant and demanded all his money. He was cowering next to the drinks fridge when the gun swung around towards him with the words, "and you will stay down if you know what's good for you".
When the gun swung back away from him everything he had experienced that day resulted in a peak of anger and adrenaline that saw him quickly grab a nearby oil container that was on display and swing it at the thug's head yelling "not tonight".
The thug fell, letting out a shot from his gun that went straight up into the ceiling, while on his way to the floor catching his head on a display shelf opening a gash in the side of his head from which his life would bleed away.

Silence.

"I think you've killed him", the attendant shakily exclaimed.

"No... but... I... ", he didn't know what to do. He was confused. The day he has had, and now this. He grabbed the thug's gun and ran out into the night.

He ran.

His body was now running on pure adrenaline but he couldn't run much further. He fell to his knees, sobbing, leaned forward and rested his forehead on the gun that he still tightly gripped.
"This can't be happening... this isn't my life... it's just a bad day".
Tears and snot fell onto the gun as he heard sirens in the distance.
"No", he cried.
Then he heard something else. It was the sound of breaking glass along with mischievous teenage laughter. He got up and slowly investigated the new noise. He found three teenage boys in the process of wrecking an abandoned car, aside from the broken headlights and windows and lack of wheels a familiar looking car, his car, his precious, lovely, lost and now wrecked pride and joy.
They could just make him out in the darkness, "What do you want?"
"That car..."
"What about it?" one boy angrily asked, "Some dorky nerd didn't deserve a sweet ride like this. It aint so sweet now".
"Yeah, we got some great stuff from his house too."
"Don't deserve?" he yelled with a voice from hell, "You don't deserve..."
As he pointed the gun at them and just kept pulling the trigger. Firing until it wouldn't fire no more and he collapsed in a sobbing heap on the ground a wreck of a man in front of his blood spattered, glass shattered, wrecked car.

Gift

For those of you that don't know, Gift is a small town in the central west of New South Wales, Australia. It used to be an old Gold Mining town and flourished in the late 1800s, when the population rivaled many similar towns at the time. Many hotels were built and thrived with the influx of thousands of people hoping to make their fortune from the ground around the town. Some did - most didn't. I think it got its name from the "Gift" of gold in the surrounding hills.

Now it is just another sleepy town in the countryside with a population in the hundreds, not thousands. Most of the old hotels are shut down, or broken down, but the locals that are left keep the main street alive and looking as new as it did all those years ago. It almost looks like you could still ride in on horseback and tie your horse to the railing to continue on foot under the awnings that line the main street. The buildings have been turned into a cafe and a souvenir shop for the tourists and travelers who stop by on their way somewhere else but who get charmed by the quaint, old timey feel of the place. One of the old hotels remains and acts as a meeting place for locals and visitors alike, being the only pub and accommodation in the area.

Gift is in the middle of nowhere, away from the main highways in the area. It is bang smack in the middle of three major towns - about an hour's drive from each of them. So it doesn't get a lot of visitors, but those that do keep coming back and it tends to be a well kept secret destination for them to get away from the over crowded, over busy cities.

The locals are very friendly and very welcoming and, though the population is very small, there are many great characters there who make a big impression on anyone who stays a while. The place gets quite cool in the winter and the summers are hot and dry, but it is never uncomfortable. A perfect and very Australian place to spend some carefree time and get away from it all.

Starman 5

It was a cool winters day in Chicago and after waving his goodbyes and thanks to the friendly and supremely helpful truck driver Buddy set off along the city streets among the tall buildings trying to negotiate a way through so many people. The traffic was a challenge as well. So many vehicles of all different shapes and sizes and velocities. It was an achievement for him just to make it from one side of the street to the other.

The traffic and the crowds were making him quite anxious but he just kept walking and walking until the number of people gradually reduced to just a passing one or two and then, after another block or so he found he was the only being on the street. Also, the street was much narrower than it was a few minutes earlier. He could not work out which was the more uncomfortable - hundreds of humans surrounding him or none at all.

He walked more slowly now and, as he walked, he heard an amazing sound. It was a slow, sustained cry. He could not work out if it was made by an animal or a machine. It wasn't an unpleasant sound, in fact it sent a warm shiver through his body. He heard it again, another cry. Then again. What was this sound? "Wow!" he said to himself. He followed the sound, walked towards it like it had some sort of power over him, drawing him in closer and closer as it cried louder and louder.

There was an open door and the sound was coming from inside. He walked in. It was dimly lit inside but he could see what was making the sound. There was a man, a dark colored man who was holding something about waist high and every time he touched it it mad that crying sound. But the sound was not coming from the thing he held, it was coming from a rectangular box behind the man. The man would hit the object with his right hand and he could change the sound it made by moving his left hand on another part of it. Buddy was completely transfixed by the sound and the way this man was making the sound with this strange object. The man suddenly stopped what he was doing when he looked up and saw Buddy standing there in his dream like state.
"Hi, my name's Buddy" said Buddy using his new vocabulary.
"Well hi yourself" said the dark colored man, "my name's Buddy too. I'm just practicing. How long you been there?"
All Buddy could say was "wow!"
"You like it? I was just testing out my new Stratocaster." He held the object out in front of him to show Buddy. "I got a new guitar, a new band, new place to play. First show with my new band tonight."
Buddy just looked confused.
"Do you understand me Buddy?" He held up the object even higher, "It's a guitar, you look like you ain't seen one before."
Buddy smiled, looked at the man and said, "Rock and Roll."
"Ha, no. This ain't Rock an' Roll, I play the blues."
"Bloooos," said Buddy repeating the man.
"That's it. You not from around here are you? You gotta be the whitest white man I've ever seen. Where you from, you sound Russian. You Russian?"
"My name's Buddy," was all he could reply with.
"Well come on over here, Buddy, and sit down and I'll play some more. It's good to have such an appreciative audience," he said as he pointed to a chair near where he was playing. "My name's Buddy, Buddy Guy. Tonight's my first time with my new band. I been playing with Muddy Waters. You heard of Muddy Waters?" He began to play a Muddy Waters song - Hootchie Cootchie Man.
As he played the alien screamed "Oh boy!".
"You like it. Say ooo wee!"
Buddy repeated "Oooo weeeeee".
"That's it."
Buddy Guy kept on playing and Buddy the alien kept on screaming, "ooo weee."

Buddy was so taken with this new sound that he had discovered and Buddy Guy was so taken with the enjoyment he could see that his new friend had for the music that he made sure that Buddy stayed where he was as the place opened up and streams of people crowded into the bar.
"Now you probably gonna be the only white man here tonight but if anyone gives you trouble you just point to me and say that Buddy Guy said it's OK."
Buddy pointed to Buddy Guy and said, "It's OK."

So the evening went on. Buddy Guy made sure that Buddy had something to eat and drink and his enthusiasm for the music throughout the night endeared him to everyone in the bar. They even joined in with his "ooo wee" every time Buddy Guy played a solo. Eventually it was closing time and, after saying goodbye to everyone in the bar, twice, Buddy found Buddy Guy and said goodbye. The bluesman could see by the elated look on Buddy's face that the night had been an amazing experience for him so he was elated as well. So he took Buddy's hand, shook it and told him that he was welcome any time he played. Buddy almost floated as walked out of the bar, so uplifting had his first experience with live music been. He was so happy that even though it was the early hours of a cold Chicago morning he just found a nice little gap between two buildings to lay and sleep to rest and prepare for more life experiences on this new planet.

Starman 4

That trip with that truck driver from outside a small town in Iowa to Des Moines and on to Chicago was to be one of the most important learning experiences the alien would have in his time on this new and captivating planet.

From their first conversation the truck driver thought that his passenger's name was "Buddy" - and so it became. The driver did work out, in the end, that he was referring to Buddy Holly and the terrible plane crash that had happened near by. He even pointed out when Buddy Holly's songs came on the radio that they listened to for that whole trip. One song the alien got to recognize quite well was "Oh Boy!" - he would even sing along, but only the words "Oh Boy". It became part of his new language that he would repeat when ever the moment felt right. In fact, the truck driver was such a willing teacher that he taught "Buddy" many words and phrases that he could use in his travels. By the time they got to Chicago he could say and understand expressions like "Hi" and "My name's Buddy" and "neat" and "Gotta stop for gas" and "You hungry ?" and "Rock and Roll". That last one he specially liked as it referred to music that came on the radio that seemed to spark a very deep pleasure inside his alien body. Since his language was beats, clicks and pops the drums and the music sounded just like happy conversations and good times he had experienced back on his home planet with his friends. It would make him feel so good he would loudly yell another of his new words, "Wow!"

So when he finally left the truck driver in Chicago he was armed with a handy new vocabulary, a name to go by on this planet and a yearning to seek out more of this "Rock and Roll".

Defying the Laws of Physics

I had just arrived at a friends house. Very quickly, it seems, as I was being pursued by the police. I had stolen something, it was in a bag on the back seat. The car was stolen as well. I screeched to a halt in the garage, grabbed the bag from the back seat, closed the garage door and ran inside. I peered out of the front window just in time to see the police race by with sirens blaring and lights flashing and I turned and walked through the house to the back yard to give my friend the bag. He smiled, opened the bag and pulled out one of several plastic bottles.
"Here they are kids", he yelled and several young children appeared. He threw the bottle to the first child and then reached back into the bag and pulled out another bottle for the next child, then another, then another, until there were nine or ten children running away, each with a bottle of industrial grade detergent.
As I followed the kids to the back of the yard I saw it. Running down the side of the hill behind the house, over the back fence then over two more house size mounds then ending in a ramp that ran vertically up the back of the house. Covered in layer upon layer of smooth, colored plastic - it was the world's greatest, biggest, most awe inspiring home made water slide.
I was still taking in the colossal majesty of the feat of engineering when the first of the kids got to the top with their bottle of detergent and started emptying the contents all over the plastic. All the other kids joined in until the plastic was dripping in industrial strength slippery stuff.
Then someone started a torrent of water streaming down the plastic and over the mounds, the water and bubbles making the plastic glisten in the bright sunshine.
"Go for it kids", someone yelled to try and get some sliding happening. A young boy with an expectant smile jumped on the very top of the plastic and slid down the side of the hill - gathering speed as he descended. But when he got to the first hump that would take him over the fence and into the back yard he slowed, got to the top of the mound, then slid backwards down the rise. The next kid started his slide from the top and traveled even faster than the first kid, but still could not make it over the first rise. Another kid tried with the same result. None of them could build enough speed to make it over the first hump.
The construction, the plastic, the water and detergent all looked too good to fail like this. I took off my shoes, ripped off my shirt and ran through a hole in the fence, up the side of the hill to the top of the slide. Then, to the cheers of the excited masses below, I jumped on the slide. Feet first laying back with my arms crossed over my chest like they do on those massive water park slides I slid faster and faster, rushing with the water over the slippery plastic. I must have been traveling three times faster than any of the kids did and, as I got to that first rise over the fence I seemed to accelerate as I went up. So much that I left the ground at the top, hung in the air like a gliding Albatross then plunged down the other side of the fence towards the next rise.
Once again I seemed to get faster as I went up the side of the mound, seemingly defying the laws of physics - this really should not work, I should have stopped like the kids did. But here I was getting faster and faster and rushing headlong to the next mound. I accelerated, again, up the side and shot even higher into the air. As I came down the side of the last mound I could see the ramp at the end that reached vertically up the side of the house. I hit it at what felt like the speed of sound and was shot, feet first, straight up into the bright blue sky. At the top of my flight I hung in the air for what seemed like minutes. I turned my head to the side and could see the roofs of the other houses. I could even see the police away in the distance with flashing lights in a fruitless pursuit which, together with my gravity defying stunt, made me smile. Just before the realization hit me that I was about to come crashing down to Earth at a terrifying velocity.
There wasn't much I could do to stop the inevitable bone jarring climax to my wild ride. So I laid my head back, put my arms out as if on a cross and relaxed as I plummeted downwards. But I did not fall in a heap of broken bones. Instead, the parabolic shape of the final ramp gently eased my trajectory from vertical to horizontal and I softly came to rest in a cool pool of water and bubbles to the excited hurrahs of the gathering fun seekers.

Leave a light On

It's like driving along with the lights out.
Speeding into the darkness.
But it's alright, it's alright.
I can see you up ahead on the horizon
You keep the light on, keep the light on.

What did you say. To bring me out.
Away from the darkness.
It's alright, It's alright.
I'm coming home to you now.
You keep the light on, keep the light on.

You put a spell on me
You can't stop me
Something's got control
something's got my soul
I can't stop it
Don't want to stop it.

I see a storm ahead, there's rain about
Black and cold in the darkness
It's alright, It's alright
I'll get through to you somehow
Just keep the light on, kepp the light on.

I'm scared
Can't see too clear
But I will get through
wait for me
Leave a light on for me

Which Direction

Internal time is
Eternal time.
It never ends. It never ends.
A conversation
Procrastination.
It's in my head. It's in my head.

It goes on and on.
Taking me from
The world of one
The world I'm on

Another way
No other way
It's all the same. All the same
A new direction.
An intersection
Run away. I'll run away.

Starman 3

It was not a large town. His fellow investigators had flown over large metropolises before as well as vast deserts, oceans and mountain ranges. So he was quite certain that this was not one of the larger populated areas. The town had a main street with buildings down either side, with people walking and hustling about in various vehicles. In fact, there seemed to be quite a bit of activity with many of the vehicles gathering together in front of one particular building. One vehicle he saw, which was larger than the others was carrying much of the wreckage that he had come across during the night.

He looked just like a bald caucasian human man, no one would suspect he was in fact from another planet, so he decided to mingle with the group that was quickly gathering around the wreckage. They did not communicate the way he did. He was not familiar with the way they were communicating but he tried to pick up what he could. He was used to the vocal clicks and pops and beats that  were his own language. These beings were making strange but ordered vocal sounds that sounded more like the noises he and his friends made back home when the were just messing around. There were two sounds that he noticed they all kept repeating: "bahdiholi" and "crash". Every conversation he listened in to contained those sounds and they were connected to the wreckage that everyone was studying. He walked away practicing the two sounds to himself. It sounded quite authentic after a while so he decided to try and communicate with the next human he came across. It was a young woman who was walking along the sidewalk towards him. As she passed he vocalised "crash". She looked at him and said "yes, it's terrible. Why did they try to fly in that weather last night?"
"Bahdiholi", he replied.
"Yes, I have some of his records. My sister went to the concert last night. Do you like his music?"
To which he replied "crash". This was his first contact and he was quite proud of what he had achieved.
"You're not from around here, are you?" It was a small town after all, so a stranger did stand out a little.
"Bahdiholi" he said again. The woman was getting a little uncomfortable now as she was not used to conversing with foreigners and this one sounded very foreign. So she wished him a good day and continued over to join the group at the wreckage.

Proud of his first effort at communicating with the people of this planet but unsure just what it was he was communicating he decided to keep moving to try to find one of the larger populated areas to continue his quest for knowledge. He also felt sad about the lives that were lost in the accident and, somehow, connected and did not want anyone to think he may be to blame. So he walked all the way along the main street and started heading out of town. After a mile or two a passing truck saw him walking along the road and pulled over just in front of him. As he walked passed the driver yelled out the window "You look lost, you need a ride? I'm going to Des Moines and then across to Chicago."
He tried to say his two words but could only emit "bahdi" before the driver flung open the passenger door and yelled "well jump in Buddy I could use the company" as he gesticulated at him to join him in his vehicle.

Starman 2

    As soon as the "flying saucer" landed in Iowa six of its human like occupants disembarked and immediately headed off in different directions. Some traveled cross country, others followed the backroads and highways in search of signs of life of the occupants of the planet. They would observe everything they could and relate it back to their fellow investigators when they return home. The were extremely interested to find out about the inhabitants of this planet that was so similar to theirs and the inhabitants that were so similar to themselves.

It was a bitterly cold winter's night and all of the visitors new that it was essential for them to find shelter from the snow blizzards that they had found themselves delivered into. One of them was trudging along through the snow when he came across what looked like a crash site. His immediate thought was that it was the ship that had delivered him to this planet only a few hours earlier. But as he came closer he realized it was an earth vehicle, or what was left of an earth vehicle. There were fragments and bodies strewn across the field. He checked all the bodies he could see in the  cold dark but there were no signs of life. This was supposed to be a momentous occasion for him as it was his first contact with the alien race that he had come to investigate, but he felt more sadness than pride as it was a horrible scene of recent, tragic death and there was nothing he could do to help these poor beings who he saw were so similar to himself.

In amongst the wreckage he noticed there were some suitcases that had broken apart and strewn their contents around the crash site. Although it was macabre he decided to make use of the clothes that he had found to not only keep him warm but to help him look more like the planet's occupants. He tried on some shirts, jackets and pants which seemed to fit over his body hugging space attire and trudged off away from the accident scene to try and find living humans.

It was well into daylight before he stumbled into a small town and he realized this would be his first contact with live people. With trepidation he walked along the town's main street.

Starman 1

Back in the 1950s there were all those reports of UFO sightings and it seemed everyone, everywhere was seeing flying saucers and little green men - mostly in the USA. All of it, well most of it, was complete nonsense.

It seems just a few of those sightings actually were of something "not of this world".

It was in 1959 in Iowa and it was a saucer shaped space craft. Three times previously similar crafts to this one  had flown close to the surface of Earth to see what they could find out. This time though, this craft actually landed, dropped off 6 of its occupants then left again - not to return for another 10 "Earth" years. In that time the occupants who were dropped off spread out across the globe to try and investigate this world that was so similar to their own.

They were not green men, in fact, they looked very similar to the humans of Earth. This allowed them to blend in with the humans where ever they went in their quest for information. They communicated with each other by a series of vocal noises that sounded like clicks and pops and beats. But they did not spend much time together while they were on Earth. As soon as they landed they all went their separate ways to gather their information then to meet up again in 10 years when the craft that dropped them off would pick them up again to return home with all the knowledge they had gained.

This all went well. They all spent the 10 years learning, without being discovered for what they really were (mostly) and gathered back together in 1969 and returned home to their planet to let the others of their kind know exactly what they had found about the Earth.

All of them, that is, except for one...

This is his story...

Whales

I'm driving along a 6 lane highway in a large capital city - 3 lanes on each side of a central median. Me and my 2 daughters on one of our little road trips. It's raining heavily, water streaming down the sides of the highway, so much so that it eventually covers both sides of the road so that all you can see between the buildings and the center median is water - the kind of water you see miles out into the ocean where no land is visible.
You would expect my car to just sink, my daughters start panicking, but my BMW handles the conditions supremely even to the extent of skimming across the top of the water like a speed boat and I have complete control.
"Look, what's that?" Maddie says, pointing just ahead of us.
It is a pod of Southern Right Whales arching toward us on our side of the highway. I have to swerve to the very left, then the very right to avoid them, the Beemer handling brilliantly atop the smooth ocean watered road.

Next we see 6 or 7 dolphins playfully heading our way and I can't see any way around them. So I hit the brakes, the car slows quickly as if it is on smooth bitumen, and I do a quick U-turn through a gap in the median as the dolphins continue happily along the other side of the highway.

We head back up the hill from whence we came and we see a small hotel/restaurant to turn in to, to stop and catch our breath from the unusual excitement of our journey. It's a white, mediterranean style building and we park and run through the rain into the nearest entrance which just happens to be a quaint Italian restaurant. We sit at a table by the wall and notice that what we thought was just a cleverly decorated wall with Italian themes and artwork is actually a giant touchscreen computer monitor.

After telling the friendly restaurant manager about our episode with the sea creatures he suggests we try to find out more on the computer wall. So, with a few touches and grand gestures across the wall we learn that the same thing is happening all over the place. Next a complete map of the world fills the whole wall and we see little whale icons appearing where ever there have been sightings of whales similar to ours - including our sighting on our highway. Then more and more icons start appearing. Some on roads, some on mountains, some in deserts. Soon there is not a major land mass that isn't covered in whale icons...

At the Supermarket

I have just popped in to the supermarket to stock up on a few things that I have run out of - you know, the sort of things where you know exactly where they are and I can quickly go directly to them, then quickly to the check-out, then away. No fuss, no problem, the least time spent at the supermarket as possible. The music that was playing was "Day By Day", you know, that song from "Godspell". I have never heard that in the supermarket before: Billy Joel yes, Phil Collins yes, but not this song from "Godspell" that I haven't heard since the seventies.

Had to get a mouse trap. I picked one up and was pondering if I should actually get two. Then the people that were passing by seemed to look at me strange, like I should not have been buying a mouse trap at all, like I shouldn't need a mouse trap. Well, I wasn't going to let their awkward looks influence my purchasing - so I got two.

I walked passed Jennifer Aniston. She was pushing her trolley full of frozen dinners for one, looking sad and lonely. Why was she all alone? I think we all know why she is all alone. I say "Hi Jen", as I pass by and quickly look away so there is no chance to stop and talk. Got to get my stuff and then get out of here. Jen just attempts a half smile then goes back to looking grumpy.

I head towards the fruit and vegetable section - I need a lettuce. I pass more shoppers and I get more strange looks. Why? I find a good looking lettuce and then can't decide if I should put it in a plastic bag or keep it out. They never fit properly into the plastic bags and I always spend too long trying to get it in. Standing there in the middle of the fruit and veggie section fumbling with a plastic bag and a lettuce, and then, when I get to the check out, whether I have gone with the bag or not always seems to be the wrong decision. Anyway, I am standing there, lettuce in hand, pondering this eternal question when a rather old supermarket employee comes up to me to ask if I needed any help. The guy would have been at least seventy and asked me if I had weighed it.
"Why do I need to weigh a lettuce?"
He takes it from me and goes off to find a scale to weigh it on, but there is none in the fruit and veggie section. So, off he walks with my lettuce in hand, towards the front of the supermarket. It was then that I noticed the huge number of people that were lined up for the check outs.

Everyone was standing, waiting in a line that stretched from the check outs across the front of the supermarket, down the side to the very back. This is going to take forever, and I only have a few things - including my lettuce that I have now lost sight of. Why does everyone always panic the day before a public holiday like they won't be able to shop again for six months. I should just dump my stuff and leave, but I am having some friends come to visit tomorrow and I really need these few things - including the lettuce. I count my items, maybe I can go through the twelve items or less check out and get around this long queue. 5, 8, 10, oh I have 15 items would anyone notice?

It was just then, as I was looking down at the carry basket with fifteen items that I noticed I was dressed as Superman. Everyone else was noticing as well. I normally do my grocery shopping dressed as Clark so as not to draw attention. Well, that explains the strange looks in the previous aisles. Question is now, do I use my reputation and good standing among the citizens of this city to jump to the front of the queue. No, I can't do that, I will just have to stay standing in this unusually long queue like the rest of the ordinary everyday shoppers.

Villeneuve

May 8 this year is the 30th anniversary of the death of Gilles Villeneuve.

A true naturally talented racer who showed he was one of the greats of Formula 1 in a very short space of time. His exploits on the track are well documented and he never failed to excite anyone who saw him race.
I have always been a bit torn on Villeneuve. I admired his talent, his prowess and the way he went about his racing. But, particularly in 1979, he seemed to be the one who stood in the way of Alan Jones winning - and I always wanted the Australian to win. Jones' grit seemed to match Villeneuve's unstoppable determination.

I remember the start of one race and there was a first corner altercation that took Jones out of the race. I said to myself, "I bet it was Villeneuve", and when the dust had settled it was in fact the Canadian sitting with the Australian amongst the debris. I was frustrated that Villeneuve's "do or die" nature had caused Jones to miss out on another victory. But it was that same "do or die" nature that grew the legend of  Gilles Villeneuve, what endeared him to us racing fans and why we have missed him these past 30 years.

As well - he drove one of the prettiest F1 cars ever - the Ferrari 312 T4.

Playing Pool

I came to a bar to meet a group of friends.
Actually, I ran to the bar. It was pouring rain outside - torrential rain. So everyone in the bar had damp clothes and was sporting wet-look hair styles. The light was dull but brightened by the beer signs above the bar and the TV screens playing sports and horse races. My friends had started playing pool on the large table at one end of the small bar. There was some Creedence playing on the jukebox with laughter and lighthearted banter hanging in the air along with the cigarette smoke. So, not a bad place to spend some time with friends.

Joey handed me a cue and urged me to join in the next game. I noticed that the balls on the table were for playing Snooker - not Pool. So he made up a triangle of red balls and colored balls, and that is how we played.
After Joey broke I had my turn and was doing quite well. That is until Sofia started her distraction tactics. How is a man supposed to play pool shots with any degree of accuracy with Sofia Vergara sitting opposite the pool table perched on a bar stool with wet hair from the rain and wearing a tight blue dress the way only Sofia Vergara can and moving in such a suggestive way to render accurate pool shots impossible. She always distracts me this way whenever I play Joey. You would think I would be used to it by now - but I'm only human. And by the smile on her face she was completely enjoying causing me to lose. It's not that she prefers Joey to win, she just knows that I am the easiest target. To be honest, it's not a bad way to lose.

So Joey takes the game and while he sets up for another I stroll over to Sofia to give her a piece of my mind on her, clearly one sided, support. "Have you seen Danny?" she asks. "He has just finalized his divorce and he got his wife's body".
"He what?"
"He divorced his wife," she explains slowly so I will comprehend, "she got the house and he got her body".
"I don't under..." I begin to say just as Danny walks into the bar. He walks over to greet us and I am confronted by this middle-aged man's face on a hot female body in a sexy black dress. A body to rival Sofia's and a face to rival the old guy planted at the end of the bar.

The Senna Anniversary

Today is the day that Ayrton Senna died back in 1994.

I remember it well. I had been out the night before getting dumped by an old girlfriend. So I wasn't happy to start with. Because I was out I recorded the Grand Prix at Imola and did not watch it live - probably a good thing.

I woke up to the radio news - and it was bad. I rushed to the living room to hurriedly watch my recording of the event. I fast forwarded past the initial start and stoppage - there was a start line accident (not the fateful one) and then a wait then a restart.
More fast forwarding and then I see it happen - rewind so I can see it at normal speed.

I see the sparks of his car bottoming on the bump in the middle of the Tamburello curve. Then the car heads straight off the road without turning and hits the wall and the car, with accompanying wreckage, careers back towards the track. I can see him slumped in the car and I already know the result, but that doesn't stop me yelling at the TV screen at the marshal to "DO SOMETHING".
He knew what the situation was - he could see it. I knew, as I had heard the radio news only minutes before.

I felt sick in my stomach, I felt tears in my eyes - I couldn't change anything, it was done. I tried re-watching the accident on the video, hoping for a different outcome, but it didn't work. The same result each time.

A hero gone, full stop, no more.

1957 at a Drive-In

So it's 1957, it's in black and white, I'm at a drive-in but it's day time. The sun is setting so I guess we are all waiting for darkness to fall. Since it is going to be a while before the movie starts I roll my window down and sit on the door of my car with my feet on the front seat while I lean against the side and my arms stretch forward across the roof.
It's my brand new car, a Chevy. Even though everything is in black and white I can see it's brand new, 'cause the chrome shines so brightly in the setting sun. Not a scratch or a smear to spoil the unblemished newness of this wonderful hunk of metal.

As I sit there another car swings into the space two spots down from mine. It's a Caddy, white, not so new. The guy driving it  is dressed in a white t-shirt and a white stetson as dirty and well traveled as the car. He looks like Hank Williams - on a bad day, he looks angry. His passenger is dressed all in white as well. It's Marilyn Monroe, she looks sad. Hank gets out, grunts, slams the door and saunters off like some drunk cowboy looking for a fight and heads towards the kiosk to buy some cigs.

I wave and say "Hi" to Marilyn, she flashes the briefest smile. "You OK?", I ask.
"Just been one of the days", she says back.
"A drive-in movie will cheer you up", I say trying to brighten her mood.
"That's what I was hoping, but old grumpy britches doesn't agree."
"Well I'm on top of the world today", I tell her, "got my brand new Chevy and I thought I would bring her to the drive-in to show her off".
"It's one good looking automobile" she tells me.
"Yes it is. I just need a good lookin' gal to ride along with me." I say hoping she will jump out of Hank's car and into mine.

She doesn't, but she does slide over to her driver's seat so she can lean out the window to continue our conversation. I tell her about my beautiful new car, she tells me about Hollywood and how she sometimes feels like running away from it all. We share some jokes and she begins to smile more and more. I tell her that if she wants to run away she can run away with me and she flashes the biggest smile I've ever seen - bigger than when I've seen her on the movie screen. That's when Hank comes back, they didn't have any cigs. He looks at Marilyn's smile, he looks at me and I wave and say "Hi". He gruffly gets in the Caddy, roughly pushes Marilyn over to the passenger seat, starts the car and drives off in an angry cloud of dust.

Then as the Caddy drives off into the setting sun I see Marilyn look back to me and raise a timid hand to wave "Good-buy", through the dust.

In Dave's Head

Here's a thought.
There's a thought.
Catch it before it blows away - floats off into space as the end credits roll.