Unnoticed in Clever Worlds

The clearest description I have managed so far about my blog is that it is not about cats. In general, I find predators pretty predictable while prey on the other-hand, because they live in universes of anxiety, develop more textured personalities. I also have as a writer a deft hand when it comes to making matters worse, so of course , the already panicky are ready made for me. I will try to grow this blog into an assortment of laughs, because that is what my life has mostly taught me to do. I will use the famous people I have known to get your attention and then tell you small but many times wonderful things about them. I will never name the ones I say ugly things about but I hope you will guess who they are.

Keith Moon and my Mother were in love

Keith insisted the two of them had a connection.
It was awkward. The woman was my mother.
She was beautiful by any standard.
Moon started to sexualize her soon after I showed him a photograph snapped of my mother in a flowered smock, the ordinary, shapeless, tent of a day dress popularized in the fifties. It was my second North American tour with the Who. I had settled in.
It did not seem to matter to him that she was now eighty-five. Of course, that says something easily predictable about him.
Ridiculously, this did not counterbalance my discomfort. I am not anybody’s definition of a prude. I have done and seen too much, but this was my mother he was wanting.
He was smitten with her in that shy British way. He would talk to the photo like he would to prostitutes. As if he might be successful provided he played his cards just right.
He would bring mother up to me out of nowhere, regularly wanting to see the picture. The trajectory of my mother’s life and death were, looking back on it now, much the same as his, inevitable and sad. She wasn’t much nailed down either.
I saw them as hapless geese plowing deliberately into the propellers of an aircraft​ taking​ off from God’s airport. Neither the plane nor their shared psychosis was willing to alter course. They had no chance.
I loved them both. My mother more. Their broken feathers scattered all around me. Moon’s drifted over everyone.
She died conveniently between tours.
He did not often mention her after that, except to question whether I was any closer to locating a dress like the one in the photo.
Of course, in his size.

PUBLISHED: May 23, 2018
FILED UNDER: Unnoticed in Clever Worlds

Teaching Rock Stars Math

Between shows, much of my time with The Who was spent reviewing each artist on their multiplication tables.

The Buddha Needs a Burger

The Buddha needed a burger.
He felt bad for wanting it, what with his having rejected the physical universe and all, but he was always the kid who ate when he was sad.
It was the run-in with that skinny little girl. She pointed at him in front of everyone during his levitation and screeched, “Momma, why is the Gautama Buddha so fat?
The teacher said “it is bad to be fat.”
“Fat, she thinks I’m fat?” he said, to his mind’s eye which was orbiting Neptune.
He cracked his flawless eyelids, and peeked at his huge stomach. As wisdom follows knowledge and perception displaces misery, he got hungry.
Reaching under his robe for ketchup, He drifted, with a big smile, back into Enlightenment.

PUBLISHED: May 19, 2017
FILED UNDER: Unnoticed in Clever Worlds

Truth comes in whiffs

Men 0, Women 1.

I think God’s only tricky decision was just how to assemble women differently from men. It was here He found his masterstroke. He gave them birth. Regis Boff

I had my bag before he did. I bought a bunch at a Buddhist monastery in Thailand. I had a plan to market them here in the states. I didn’t need the money and thought it might be small of me to corrupt a major religion so I shitcanned the idea. The monks all carry the bags and keep a wooden bowl in them to beg with all day. Regis Boff

B.B. King

Between the years of 1972 and 1991, 78% of all rock shows used B.B. King as an opening act. I saw him perform at least 22% of those times because we used him as an opening act.

Nearly 99% of those audiences were white, and 99.95% of them were impatient to have him leave the stage to get to the headliner.

Only 45% of the headliners had ever heard of him, and the remainder adored him because they thought he made them look cool and because he came cheap.

B.B King would have played to a herd of sheep if he got paid and the sheep would have been the big winners. He was the greatest of all things. A happy man.

PUBLISHED: May 16, 2018
FILED UNDER: Unnoticed in Clever Worlds

The child who

The child to touch is the one
who won’t laugh.

The child to kiss is the one
who dreads it most.

The child to hug is the one
wrapped only in their arms.

The child to hold is
holding tight to you now.

But can they Shop?

You are not important. You are worth only as much as you have money to buy things. We are allowed our simple vanities as compensation for our product endorsements. It is infinitely more important that I drink Coke instead of Pepsi than it is whether I am Republican or Democrat. Apes can pull a ballot lever but can they shop? No!

George Clooney


“Without celebrity, Democracy has no point”; Oscar Wilde. 
I find it out of the question not to believe everything that George Clooney says. This is because I am in love with him and this is what love always does to you. If you find something of paramount stupidity, and you put it in his mouth I will believe it. It is his due.

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