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Saturday, February 25, 2006

THE MEANING OF LIFE, ODD DINNER PARTIES, MUSICAL LOVERS & PANCAKES...

This morning began quite late for me. I woke up at 9am, opened up my iTunes to LemonJelly and fell back into sleep listening to the electronic ramblings. I got up a little before 11am. Headed out to find a pair of black slacks that would fit me. Finally found a 29/32, but am had to go with pleated. Ugh. Not too cool. I had my iPod on an endless loop of the 2 dueling 12" mixes of "No More Tears (Enough Is Enough)" by Barbra & Donna. Aside from letting LemonJelly woe me back to slumber, this is all I've heard this morning. I love comparing and contrasting the two versions. Columbia Records released a 9 minutes version that is classic old-skool disco filled with those wondrous orchestral disco arrangements and enhanced mixing so that Barbra's vocals totally eclipse those of Donna. Then there is the by far more polished mix by Giorgio Moroder for the Casablanca Records 12" version which runs for just under 12 minutes. And, of course, this one is mixed so that Donna's vocals are cranked up to 11 and Barbra's are lowered to an 8 or so. ...and that great little diva dig where you can hear Donna urging Barbra to "C'mon!" as Barbra starts to jump into a verse. But, the one thing that all the trickery of Moroder and Bob Esty can't change is the moment toward the end of the song when Babs and D just belt out that chorus and quite nearly blow out by iPod headset. Such great disco fun.

However, dear friends, this is not the purpose of my posting. I want to tell you about --- last night. I might as well. It is bound to get out at some point and I'd like to be the source to give you the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth. You see, it all began innocently enough. Ing met me at my new and way-cool office and we went out. Ing had a bit of an adventure on her way to meet me, but that is her story to tell. Suffice to say that if you should ever be cruising the streets of San Francisco on your cute little Vespa scooter -- steer clear of Ing's path. Failure to do so could be quite tragic! However, I digress.

We had a lovely dinner, followed by a great movie and then a stroll thru the beauty that is The Tenderloin where Ing and I were accosted right and left by dirty people begging us for money. One particularly creepy man offered me a newspaper for Ing. I did my best not to kick him, but Ing gave him a few coins because she's just that kind of person. Once we made it to our destination, a great little dinner from the 40's that makes the best damn pie you'll ever find!

We ordered our sweets and talked for several hours about life, love, sex and politics. We spoke of friends, family, lovers, ex-lovers and those who we hope to be our lovers. Then, as I took my last sip of Diet Coke, Ing pulled out a book and began to read to me. Amid the social misfits inhabiting the dinner at 1am I was enraptured by the spell of a story by Tobias Wolf. And, if ever I have the guts to want to read my writing I plan on getting Ing to read it. Great voice and phrasing. The story was quite effective and left us both feeling drained.

I looked over at Ing with tears in my eyes and asked, "Ing, will I ever know love?"

Ing took my hand (after she wiped off the whip cream and chocolate syrup) and told me, "Matty, yes. You will know love. In fact, I am taking you to my home because I want you to meet someone. A very important person in my life. And, I think I might be able to arrange for you to meet the man who will bring you the love you so desperately desire. It's going to be OK, sweetie."

Well, how can I tell you what happened next? We got in Ing's car and drove down some back streets -- only a few cyclists were harmed. And, suddenly, I realized we were up at the top of Nob Hill.

"Ing? I didn't know you lived up here?"

"Matty, very few people do know that I live here. However, I am opening this truth up to you."

We drove into the driveway of a palace. Exotic plants grew over everything and the air smelled of tropical flowers and incense. Ing led me into her home. It was expansive and lovely. Decorated in a sort of retro-cool that so many aspire but seldom reach. Belle & Sabastian could be heard as she led me to a stunning dining area. I believe they were singing a song called "White Collar Boy" --- it was magnificent.

"Have a seat, Matty. I am going to introduce you to my lover."

"Wow! Ing? You have a lover?"

"Yes, this is our home."

Ing walked out of the room. Belle & Sebastian crooned on to a new song called "The Blues Are Still Blue" and suddenly life started to make sense. This is what life is all about. This is what life is meant to be. This, my friends, is the meaning of life. I heard the clearing of a throat behind me and there he was. Standing in a way that indicated he wasn't quite sure he was comfortable meeting me. His blonde hair was messed up in a way that showed meticulous care and, despite the warmth of their home -- he wore a way-cool jacket. He was holding Ing's hand. He raised her hand to his full lips and gently kissed it. That's when I noticed the wedding band on Ing's finger. She must have noticed my eyes looking at her ring.

"Yes, Matty. We are married, but we are not comfortable letting people know. Beck is really focused on recording his new record and --"

Beck raise his thin hand and spoke of his love for Ing and the fact that she and his music were all that mattered to him.

"But, Beck, what about me?"

Suddenly, I felt self-conscious. Ing sighed and told me that she and Beck were going to make me some dinner because they knew I must be famished. And, indeed I was. Aside from my shock regarding Ing's secret life up on Nob Hill with Beck I was starving!

The doorbell rang. Beck called from the kitchen and asked me if I could answer the door. I walked back thru the hall to the door. Well, I can't begin to tell you how I felt when I discovered Andy Gibb standing there in the darkness of a the crisp San Francisco night.

"Are you Matt?"
"Andy?"
"No, my name is Hot Toddy. Sexy Hot Toddy. I've been told I look a bit like the late Andy Gibb. Matt, I want you. I need you."

This was just too much. I ran away from Sexy Hot Toddy with tears in my eyes? Had he come all the way from across the country just to meet me or to hang with Ing & Beck.

Ing caught me just as I was running toward a room that seemed to be wall-paper'd in leather. (???) She held me tight. Told me to get a grip and led me back to the dining area where Beck and Sexy Hot Toddy sat. And, there at the end of the table was a plate of pancakes just for me.
As my fork sliced thru the buttery syrup covered pancakes my heart filled with joy. All was good with the world. Beck began to tell us how President Bush had been accidentally killed by Vice President Cheney while the two were cleaning their guns. Cheney had suffered a heart attack and it didn't look good. We all smiled as Belle & Sebastian continued singing something about the price of tea ---- then, as we laughed about Condy Rice's fatal shoe store accident I could have sworn I heard someone singing the theme song to that odd Dudley Moore flick, BEDAZZLED.

And, then -- just when I thought my heart would bust -----

...I woke up.

33 Comments:

Blogger Me said...

Can you export some of those drugs please. Pretty please. I'll send a boat down, you be waiting on the dock, kay?

8:24 PM  
Blogger Me said...

strangely, after leaving the above comment... Beck singing Hank Williams' Cheatin' Heart came on. Did I mention that Napster is my new best friend? Is that wrong?

8:28 PM  
Blogger ginab said...

Now there's a dream Ing doesn't want you to wake from. Not ever, Matty, but like all great stories/dreams (just ask Wolf) a great ending is required.

Which story?

-g+bb

By the way, Thursday night, following a play, I was walking to my car and was offered "a seat in my ride". He wanted to know what I had to say about it. I am gratefully soft spoken and reluctant now to recall my precise words, except I recall figuring out that it isn't me to cause anybody to think of a dream chance: me sitting in the passenger's seat.

9:25 PM  
Blogger ing said...

Ginab:

"Say Yes" was the story. Wasn't he considerate, though?

Mattyfriend:

Andy Gibb (S.H.T.) came all that way for you, I'm sure of it! I know my Becklove is very alluring, but you, to Andy, MORE SO.

One thing disturbs me about this here dream; the Belle and Sebastian running throughout -- too much sweetness, Matty! Combined with the syrup, the whipped cream; it's making me hyper!

O, so tired!

11:49 PM  
Blogger matty said...

Meredith -- Yes, I will be waiting. However, sadly, I fear the drugs could let you down. Essentially one needs to mainline Diet Coke and consume large quantities of chocolate very early in the morning...

I LOVE that cover he did of Hank Williams! Beck rocks. Plus, I think he might be married to Ing so that makes him all the cooler.

And, no. It is OK for Napster to be your friend! I happen to enjoy a very up close and personal friendship with iTunes. And, I feel no guilt.

Gina -- Yeah, if only dreams were like stories. Tho, sometimes stories can be like dreams. Why can't it ever be the other way 'round? Do artists dream of their art in full creation? That is a question I've never asked my brother.

Ing already told you the title of the story read --- I loved it. I love it when a writer leaves me wanting more than she/he gives. Wanting more is always the best level of excitement.

I wish you lived here. I would so love to hang out with you!

Ing - my fave blur of raw sexy energy! Well, "Sweet" is my middle name! So, when one combines me, Beck and Andy Gibb things are just bound to get a bit heavy on the "creamy" side! LOL! ...by the way, I loved what you guys did to the house! Nob Hill. Who knew??!?

12:18 AM  
Blogger Karyn said...

You had me until Ing said she didn't want anyone to know she was married to Beck. LOL.

I have meds for bp and the first few days you take them, you have wacked out dreams like you can't believe. So I have decided to do a week on, then three days off, so I can fully experience the vivid, technocolor, 3D, wacked out dreamy goodness when I start the regimen again. How bad is that?

4:33 AM  
Blogger josh williams said...

I dont beleive it for a minute! The last part, about it being a dream. JW

8:23 AM  
Blogger jungle jane said...

my matty that was a fine tale! as always you had me entranced (except the Babs and Donna bit was a bit hard on my ears).

it seems like such a shame that you woke up when you did though - those pancakes surely had some way to go? and I bet there was at least half your diet coke left too?

i do hope the part about having to get pleats was part of the dream??

1:27 PM  
Blogger matty said...

Commander Josh -- You know, it may have not been a dream. Ing was acting a bit coy yesterday. I sensed that I might have been drugged to think it was a dream!

JungleJane!!!!! I know! Pancakes!!!! Sorry Barbra and Donna hurt you! The guy sitting on the subway seemed annoyed to as I had the iPod cranked up to top volume. My head bopping all about in disco heaven. ...sadly, no, all I could locate were (surpressing gag) pleated black pants. Ugh! It hurts to write that! ..but after I get paid I will order some on line. I just couldn't wait. Sigh. All the cool pants were too short in length.

Karyn -- could you share some of those drugs with me?

1:41 PM  
Blogger Elaine said...

What a strange and bizarre dream. I must confess to having had similar dreams about pancakes, not relatives of the Gibb Brothers though.

Congratulations on the job, just promise me you won't turn into a bitch-queen like the majority of receptionists here in England. You go to the doctor, 'what's wrong with you'. 'Hmmm, I don't know I'd prefer the doctor to diagnose me!' etc etc

Nothing wrong with being a lady with an attitude, just don't turn into one of those awful people who get their power kick from holding the pathway to the appointments diary.

2:48 PM  
Blogger matty said...

Elaine! mmmmm... I don't know. Whenever I think "pancake" i think Andy Gibb! Go figure! And, I don't know how to be bitchy. I think I lean more toward the ditzy type. Also, that sort of attitude would never be accepted at this practice. It is a most cool place ---- i'm required to be as nice as possible. I'm good at that!

10:16 PM  
Blogger ing said...

Matty:

You aren't ditzy, you're artistic. That's what my mom tells me, anyway. And you don't have a bitchy bone in your body. Nope. But you sure do like pancakes (and sausage).

(Ha ha, get it, sausage?)

(But literally, you like sausage with your pancakes. So it's not as hilarious as one might think, should one "get" my subtle, subtle joke.)

(Which, it's really subtle, people, so have a seat on my knee and I'll explain it, slowly, in a hushed and kind tone.)

(But please don't put your arms around my neck like that. Unless you're a cute little monkey. I like cute little mokeys. )

(And if you're a monkey, I'll explain it all in sign language, since you don't understand English.)

(Or French, for that matter.)

11:34 PM  
Blogger matty said...

Ing -- Thank you. Yep. I do like sausage. ...I don't even need the pancake. ...just lube it up - uh, pour the syrup and I'm ready to roll!

I like little monkeys, too. I wear a metal one with a huge cock as a necklace. ...not so subtle, but it seems to bring me luck. ...excepting cell phones. I just lose 'em right and left!

11:40 PM  
Blogger Dessie said...

Shoe store incident...?

All monkeys are French though, aren't they? Oz said it on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and as he's incredibly sexy it must be true.

I'm going to have some pancakes now, diet be damned :-\

8:33 AM  
Blogger ing said...

I don't think Michael Jackson's little monkey is French. I think Bubbles is from Graceland.

As for the necklace -- Thailand?

9:10 AM  
Blogger Jon said...

If only life was like dreams-- I mean, it CAN be at times, but it rarely is. Thanks for sharing your vivid imagination!! :)

11:02 AM  
Blogger ginab said...

Okay, I am going to vote. Because I saw the winner in person, I vote Jeff Beck (over 'Beck' and over Andy Gibb).

Just looked like no quibbling would happen, but that detail was probably indeed a dream. Besides, my memory isn't serving me on Wolf's story. Slip!

on a banana
-g+bb

11:48 AM  
Blogger matty said...

I wish all of you could transport yourselves to SF this Friday at 7:30pm as The Castro Theatre is screening the ultimate camp classic, MAHOGANY in which Diana Ross over-acts her desire to be a top fashion model and designer only to be terrorized by Norman Bates. ...only instead of a knife and a wig --- he uses a Nikon and really tight jeans! And, all 50 costumes are designed by Miss Ross herself!!!!

And, Ing is promising to have her replica of the Mahogany dress ready for the Big Night! Wish you could all share in our glory!

I'm not sure from where Bubbles came, but I wonder if he is blessed with a penis the size of the one I sport on the necklace from my secret admirerr?

Jon -- my imagination is yours whenever you want it, baby.

Dessie -- why aren't you on the beach???? Am I confused? ....can I come live with you and your life partner and eat pancakes? I give great feet massages and can clean bathrooms fairly well. And, I don't take up much space. I need to live in the UK. Oh, and can I bring Ing with me? She, too, takes up very little space and is much fun! So, I could clean and massage, she could entertain and all we need is a warm place to sleep, pancakes and access to Bukkake. ...well, at least I need access to Bukkake. It might not be so important to Ing, but she would need access to great book stores and hot UK men.

Ing -- are you with me on this plan? We could live with Dessie and his man?

Gina -- You know, when I was in my late teens I had a HUGE crush on Jeff Beck for about a month. But, for some reason I've not thought of him in years. Watch out for those peels! Please move here.

JungleJane -- I think you should move here, too. There is a great deal of beer and access to technology.

8:36 PM  
Blogger jungle jane said...

Matty i would move over for the pancakes. i would.

10:01 PM  
Blogger matty said...

Jungle Jane -- I will gladly treat you to pancakes anytime! Wouldn't it be fun to just actually hang out and talk and talk and turn the city upside down!?!?!

10:49 PM  
Blogger ing said...

I do so want to move to the UK, but would Dessie and his partner allow Jungle Jane and ginab to move in, too? Because I need some hot decoys to lure in all those men with their accents (yow, accents!). I'm pretty enough for gay dentists, but I could use a little straight-guy-you-know (I'm not talking about bukkake).

Otherwise and in the meantime, I'll settle for pancakes.

11:26 PM  
Blogger ing said...

Oh, and out of respect for my ladies, I need to ask: you don't mind being a decoy to do a sister a favor, do you? Since our tastes are different, we can work this out, can't we? I go for this, ginab gets sweet, sweet this, and Jungle Jane gets the gorgeous pole-dancer. And for Matty? Mmmm-mmm & oo-la-la!!

11:38 PM  
Blogger matty said...

Ing -- Yes, I see your point. Wow! Jungle Jane's love is so hot I get a "forbidden" warning when I click the link! I have to admit. Jeff Beck is lookin' pretty good in that picture.

But, when you get down to it -- pancakes are pretty damn good!

6:23 AM  
Blogger ginab said...

YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!

sweet, sweet, SWEET. Looks like he can, can, CAN indeed.

(Sorry, Matty, for exploding.)

-g

8:52 AM  
Blogger Dessie said...

You guys have no idea how cold it is in England right now do you ;) I had to run to the other side of the world to get away from it...

9:40 AM  
Blogger Hot Toddy said...

Matty,
Maybe I don't wanna know the reason why, but lately you don't talk to me, Darling, I can't see me in your eyes.

I hold you near but you're so far away. And it's losing you I can't believe to watch you leave and let this feeling die.

You alone are the living thing that keeps me alive.

And tomorrow if I'm here without your love, you know I can't survive. Only my love can raise you high above it all.

Don't throw it all away, our love, our love, don't throw it all away, our love.

11:55 AM  
Blogger crabcake said...

Ahhhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha ha! You had me, Matty. You so had me. All the way up to Beck. Great post!

1:31 PM  
Blogger Bloodgood said...

Great Blog, I left a comment on your Arthur H post, but I didnt know if you went back to read them or not. I dont ever look back on mine. Great story, Ing is a sweetheart. I love Belle and Sebastian and need to get there new CD. Im also jealous of your 40's dinner.

5:02 PM  
Blogger joe said...

oh man, if I didn't know love now, I know now. love the post! dream on matt, you'll find love. lots of love from canada!

6:24 PM  
Blogger matty said...

Sexy Hot Toddy -- Oh, wandering thru the afterglow, knowing that love is thicker than water. You are this dreamer's only dream - heaven's angel --- I only ever wanted to be shadow dancing. ...with, you.

Crabcake! Dessie is wrong! It was not a slip, but a type-o! And, thanks!

Dessies, we know it is cold but we love the idea of being expats in London --- and, I've always had a lionheart.

bloodgood -- Belle & Sebastian ROCK!

Joe -- Ahhhhh, thanks! Lots of love from SF to you!

8:42 PM  
Blogger laurenbove said...

incredible. Your writing is wonderfully creative and exciting to read.

5:48 AM  
Blogger Labbie said...

*Stands up while giving a cheering ovation*

Encore! Encore! This was great!!! Bravo!

7:20 PM  
Blogger elbert said...

Just a heads up in case your readers are interested in replacement iPhone Headsets for their iPhone, iPod, or Mac.

3:02 PM  

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