Ventura Highway Plays in My Head When I'm Sick

Down for the count today. Ear infection from cold water surfing, high fever. As a slightly addictive personality type, I always relish in the cheap high a fever brings - that surreal "I'm a balloon!" feeling.

I went to see the band America many years ago. They were past their prime and playing with Three Dog Night at a football stadium during halftime. I was very sick with a flu but insisted on going with my friend.

They came out and stood at the sidelines, waiting to go on. I recognized the one guy and said, "Hey, will you play Ventura Highway for me?" He said sure. Several songs into their set, the singer announced, "This song is for the girl in the pink pajamas." (I was wearing pink pajamas because I was too sick to change that morning.) Then they played the song and I felt so spacey and special.

That night, as I lie awake with a very high fever, I heard the opening chords of that song play over and over in my head, like a sickly broken record. What a trippy and peaceful feeling! To this day, the beginning of that song makes me feel essentially content, like everything will be alright, like the fever will break, eventually.



They don't make guys like this anymore, do they? So sincere.

Looks like Domestically Abused Gypsy Again

I consider myself a creative sort. But when it comes to Halloween costumes, I tend to feel pretty ill-equipped and uninspired. As I child, I was a ghost, year after year, because it was easy, spooky and warm. One time, my sister put sparkles and stars on my sheet and told me that this year, I was a "space ghost." So then I was a space ghost for a few years after that.

As I got older, I pretty much grabbed anything in my closet and called it a costume. My regular clothes with a cowboy hat? A cowgirl. All black dress, with a broom in hand - a witch. See...not really that creative. And of course, tonight, I will go with my old standby: a domestically abused gypsy.

It's easy enough to do, especially if you're me and have lots of scarves and flowing clothes and stuff. You "gypsy up" and then you blacken up one eye. Voila! Domestically abused gypsy. If a man approaches you, raise your arms in a blocking motion and say "I didn't do it. I didn't do it!"

Politically correct? Not at all.

Easy? Hell yeah. ..


The Calm before the Storm