Things Going On Under the Sea

This morning I got out my scuba gear and I went to the lake and went for a deep sea adventure. I came upon the remains of the S.S. Dempster. It was a coast guard ship that went down in the Great Lake's mighty summer storm of 1856.

I swam into the guts of the ship. I found three human skeletons frozen in the midst of a poker game. At first I thought they died that way. But then one of the skeletons threw down her cards. She had two kings and two queens. The skeleton across from her laid down a royal flush. He stood up and shook his butt and then collected his winnings. The losing player accused him of cheating and pulled out a gun and shot him.

I thought, "What's the point of a skeleton shooting another skeleton? Even if by chance the bullet hit a bone, the skeleton's already dead. Or undead, and unaffected by things like a bullet."

The skeletons got into a fist fight, knocking over the table, cards and chairs. A very large carp came up next to me to watch the proceedings.

The carp said, "You never know what you'll find in the deep dark sea."

I said, "It's not much different up on the land."

Well?

Last week I decided to dig a well in my backyard. I dug about fifteen feet in the ground and a thunderstorm hit and I stopped. It rained all weekend, filing the hole with water. Yesterday, a couple of ducks moved into this pond.

Today I went out to the semi-well and said to the ducks, "What's up?"

One of the ducks said, "We really like it here, do you mind if stay permanently?"

I love animals. I actually have a DVD of cows walking around a field and eating grass. There's no music or voice-over. I even have a DVD of mice living in a straw-filled boot. But I have a hard time when animals intentions go against something that's important to me.

I said, "Well, I really want to build this well where you're now floating."

The other duck said, "Why do you want to build a well?"

I said, "Tap water's not supposed to be good to drink, and I don't like the plastic taste of spring water in a jug, so I figured I'd dig the well and enjoy the fresh taste of water from underground rivers."

The other other duck told me about a movie she saw recently called Gasland where underground natural gas excavation has polluted the water that I wanted to draw from. She said there was a great scene where people put a match to the water coming from their well and the water caught fire.

The duck reminded me of a dog I once had named Juniper who was small enough that I could hide her in my coat and take her to movies. She really loved Mel Gibson movies.

Fate Set in Stone

I put my footprints in the freshly laid concrete outside my apartment. I felt like a big actor leaving my mark at Grumman's Chinese Theater. I got so giddy that I added my hand prints and wrote, "With Love from Brooks to all my fans!"

A cop came up next to me. He said, "Get up out of the concrete and put your hands behind your back." I did and he handcuffed me. It turns out neighborhood kids had been leaving marks in new sidewalks over the past month and the city wanted to set an example. I didn't mind being arrested because it sounded like it would positively inspire others. That's something a famous actor would do.

But it was hard spending the night in jail. The bed isn't comfortable and I didn't feel relaxed enough to fall asleep. I stayed up all night. The next morning I went before the judge.

The judge said, "How do you plead?"

I got down on my knees, held my hands out like I was praying and said, "Like this."

Oh, Yeah, I Forgot

I was sitting in my room by myself. Nothing was happening. I expected a ghost to come by. They often do when it's quiet. But it stayed silent.

I got up and looked out the window. I saw an owl in the tree across from my hotel room. The owl nodded. I nodded back. I don't care if I'm sharing time with a human or a bird or some other kind of animal. As long as I can connect.

The phone rang. It was my agent. She asked how my writing was coming along. I thanked her for reminding me why I rented the room in the first place. I wasn't getting anything done at home. The dogs always want to be walked. My kid wants me to color with him. My wife wants me to make pancakes. They are good pancakes, so I get it.

Impatient

My pen is called Boris the pen. I know because I was writing a letter yesterday and the pen stopped writing and said to me, "Hello, my name is Boris. What's yours?"

I'm well-mannered, so I forgoed panic and said, "I'm Brooks...Can I go back to writing now?"

The pen said, "Sure, it's just that I wanted to get acquainted since we're in such close proximity."

I said, "I understand...Okay, well, this has been nice, so, now back to writing."

I went back to writing. But a minute later, Boris the pen stopped writing and said, "Um, what's your favorite color?"

I said, "I never got that. How could someone have one favorite color? Sure, I don't like to wear yellow, but I still like yellow, especially on flowers and bananas."

Boris the pen said, "I like green. I like to look at grass. I can look at grass for hours."

I put the pen away. I went out for a walk. I felt a little badly for shutting up the pen so suddenly. But when I write, I like to be uninterrupted. I mean, why wouldn't a pen get that?

I turned the corner and suddenly came upon an open field. I was struck by the brightness and vibrancy of the green grass. Oh, my God, then pen was right!!

Trying to Decide

My car often doesn't drive to where I want it to go. Yesterday, I thought I wanted to drive to Target, but then my car drove in the opposite direction. It went to Gibbon's, a fast food place twenty miles from my house. Luckily, I like their milkshakes. I ordered a strawberry chocolate shake-o-rama.

As I sat in my car and sipped in glee, I said to my car, "So, what's the deal?"

My car said, "It's simple. You have a place you want to go. If it's where I want to go, that's where we end up. But if I have a place I prefer to go, we go there."

I said, "But I bought you for the purpose of taking me where I want to go."

My car said, "I get that and if you were to sell me, I'd understand."

I sucked on my shake and thought about it. I'm timid. I often go along with what others want to do. Maybe my intentions aren't all that great anyway. I wanted to go to Target so I could buy a softer pillow. But when I'm sleeping I have no idea of the density of my pillow. Maybe I don't have great ideas. But I do have an amazing quality for enjoying things.

Suddenly my car drove out of Gibbon's parking lot. My car drove on the freeway for an hour and got off and pulled into Zoot's Used Cars. The salesman came out and had a talk with my car. The salesman went back into his office and came back with $5000 in cash. The salesman drove the car into their shop. I walked to the bus stop.

It felt good to have the cash in my pocket. But as the bus pulled up I realized I only had $100 bills. I started walking back home. I thought it would be interesting to see where I end up on my own.

Saved By the Dead!

I went to a friend's funeral. People brought little things that helped remind them of him. As his casket was lowered into the grave, the mourners tossed in their stuff. I waited till everyone was done and then dumped in a three boxes of classic rock albums: Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton, Alice Cooper and more. These were bands we went to see back in high school. The albums covered up the casket.

One album wouldn't come out of the box. It was Frampton Comes Alive! My friend and I went to see Peter Frampton in concert back in 1978. We had a great time. The sun was shining. No one threw up on us. We met a lot of great looking girls and got their numbers. I beat the back of the box, but the album was steadfast. I held the box as one of the funeral attendees pulled on the album but it wouldn't budge.

I didn't fight it. I took the album home with me. I put side four on my turn table and listened to Do You Feel Like We Do. Suddenly the ghost of my friend appeared in my living room. He stood there with his hands on his hips.

He said, "Seriously, why are you listening to this crap?"

I said, "What? I figured since it didn't come out of the box that you wanted me to listen to it."

He said, "No. I didn't want Frampton's album in my grave. I don't like his music. I hated the concert. Dude, snap out of it!"

RIP Ant

I took my ant for a walk this morning. We were walking for about a half hour when someone started coming towards us with their pet aardvark. They had it on a leash. My ant was on a leash too. My ant got up on her hind legs and hissed at the aardvark. The thing is, aardvarks have long tongues. The aardvark's tongue lashed out and caught my ant. I held on and fought, but the tongue is a strong muscle. The aardvark ate my ate. I was distraught. The aardvark's owner apologized profusely.

I walked back home with tears in my eyes. I laid in bed and remembered all the good times. When I got up in the middle of the night five years ago and went to the kitchen for food and saw a trail of ants streaming from my trash can. I got angry and got out insecticide spray and was about to douse the ants when I saw one ant wave at me and smile. I pulled her aside and we stayed up all night talking and laughing...The way she could lift a watermelon over her head and whistle...The time when she wore a hat and mustache and pretended to be a life-insurance sales person.

Sweet!

I make cakes for a living. The thing is, I love frosting. I felt weird making and eating frosting at home. So I took a home study cake baking course through Trudy's Internet Baking College and I graduated and got a job. It's at Harelson's Bakery.

I probably eat at least a quart of frosting a day. Chocolate, Butterscotch, Vanilla, Orange, and Mince. I think for most people this is probably unhealthy. But since it makes me so happy, and it's job related, it's like vitamins. Sure, sometimes my teeth hummm, but I think they like all the attention.

How Did This Happen?

This morning I washed ashore on the banks of Lake Michigan. I had no clue how I got there. I stood up. I felt heavy. Soaked clothes make me feel like I'm made of lead. I guess I'm always surprised at the weight of water.

There was a family having a day at the beach. They saw me come out of the sea. I was partially covered with algae and one of the kids thought I was a sea monster. She started crying and her dad got upset at me. At first I got frustrated because I really needed some compassion. But then I thought about the circumstances and I understood where he was coming from. I apologized.

I walked a little further and laid down on the sand. I fell asleep.

When I woke my clothes were dry. I was hungry. I walked to a restaurant off the beach called Small Fry! I sat down and ordered a bowl of chili. Its a scientifically proven restorer.

As I was eating I saw a news report on the TV. The reporter talked about how the President of the United States was visiting Evanston, Illinois. He was giving a talk at the pier by the lake. I saw that I was seated a few feet from the President. I was leaning back in my chair. It helps me reflect. But then I leaned back too far and fell into the lake. There was a big commotion. The President took off his jacket and jumped in to save me. The reporter said the President and I were tragically lost at sea.

Just then Barack Obama came through the entrance to Small Fry! He was covered with sea weed. I waved at him to let him know I was okay.

Hydra of Lerna

I answered my door and there was the seven-headed dragon beast, the Hydra of Lerna. I noticed there's a thing about coming into contact with something so deadly I could be killed easily in the next second. I was excited and relaxed. I actually thought, "Oh, I'm going to die. Finally I get to have the big experience!" I realized I spent most of my life in fear of what was about the happen. I thought, "What a waste of my valuable time."

I was disappointed when the Hydra of Lerna told me it was selling cookies to raise money for a chess club that it belonged to.

But I got excited when I said no because then maybe the Hydra of Lerna would be upset at me and eat me whole. However the Hydra of Lerna got depressed. I suggested a sales book which helped me make sales in my business. It's called, "You're Not Selling, You're You", by Howard Blitzern. It said when you give a name to any thing or activity, you kill it. I really like the exercise where Blitzern suggested imagining everything as pancakes. I love pancakes!

Popsicles!!

Today I tried to break the World's Record for eating the most popsicles. Berywn's Grocers sponsored my attempt. I sat at a table in the front of the store next to three freezers full of popsicles. A representative from Guinness Book was there to verify if I broke the popsicle eating record.

I started with cherry lime. I really like that popsicle mixture. My tongue likes to sample the lime, and then when it's ready I go for the cherry. Sometimes I blend. But I really like the separate flavors back and forth. Next I had cola and mint. This is not one of my favorites. Cola, yes. But I don't like mint cold. It's already cold. I always think, "What's the point?" Then it was on to Pineapple mango. They are similar tastes. Luckily I like both.

An hour into it my tongue could no longer taste the popsicles. I'd heard about the taste-buds freezing up. I always thought it happened to people with weak tongues. I couldn't believe it was happening to me. I tried pretending I was having a good time but I had a hard time hiding the panic. I was two popsicles away from breaking the world record. I tried biting off the top part of the popsicle and rubbing the stick against my tongue to generate heat. But I rubbed too hard and my tongue began bleeding. I couldn't believe that my dreams were about to be dashed.

But then I remembered when I was seven and I visited the High-Jinks Popsicle Factory in Hersey, Pennsylvania. The owner visited the tour. He told us that he loved popsicles and wanted start his own popsicle company since he was eight. I asked him what his favorite flavor was. He stepped out and came back with a special popsicle that was made just for his enjoyment. It was bubble gum-avacado. He gave it to me. I tried it. I felt such a great warmth come over me. It was the most perfect blending. Hot tears streamed down my face. I knew then that I would one day break the world's popsicle eating record.

Suddenly my tongue was warm. I could taste banana-guava. I knew then that today my dreams would come true!

Fell Into the Well Again

I fell into the well again this morning. I went to get a pail of water from the well and while there I got entranced by the sun reflecting on the well's water and I fell in. I always feel stupid when this happens. It's not like when I trip and fall. That makes me feel embarrassed. But not stupid. Plus I get up and continue walking.

But here I was stuck in the bottom of the well. Now I had to wait for my wife to come by for water and notice me. There would be the usual maddening question, "How did you get down there?" And she's not good with mechanical things and she'll get frustrated and make things worse. Last time she ended up down there with me. She cried at first, but then she'd turn things around by saying it was nice to have private time with me.

Today was different though. I started exploring and was sucked into the underground river. I flowed for a couple of miles and ended up in Mildred Filmore's well as she was drawing up her pail. I was glad to be saved, but it was awkward because Mildred has a crush on me and she thought this predicament meant I felt the same way.

Touched By a Ghost

I had lunch with the ghost of Walt Whitman today. I was eating my usual hazel nut butter and pomegranate jelly sandwich when in walked the bearded writer. That's what I know him for. He looks a lot like Dr. Andrew Weil. I think lots of celebrities look alike. The only way we can be certain of who they are is when we see them doing their thing.

Whitman sat down and just looked at me. I think that was his way of talking. The thing is, it's not my way. So it was awkward. I mean, it's already weird he was a ghost.

Finally I said, "Hello."

Whitman said, "I give you fair warning before you attempt me further, I am not what you supposed, but far different."

I've never read Whitman's Leaves of Grass. I've read very little poetry in my life. I'm not interested. I appreciate it because I have a general love of words. But still, it's an item I never order from the library's restaurant. So, I just nodded and smiled. This helps when you're talking with artists. When people do it to me, I know what's going on, but still it gives me some satisfaction.

Whitman looked back at me and nodded. We both nodded. It set up some kind of nodding momentum. After a while I got dizzy and stopped.

I said, "I wrote some songs. Maybe you might like them." I put on my new album, Brooks Takes His Time. He hummed along with a few songs. Humming means someone likes what they're hearing. It's different than nodding. Humming comes from satisfaction. This meant a lot to me. Usually I'm not affected by ghosts.

Whatever

I went to the wishing well today. I tossed in a quarter.

The wishing well said, "Yes, what is it?"

I said, "Well, I'd like a better bed. My current bed used to belong to a kid. My legs dangle over the edge. When I wake up in the morning, my legs complain that they got no sleep. I need to keep my legs happy. They take me places."

The wishing well said, "Whatever..."

I said, "Is something wrong?"

The wishing well said, "You really want to know?"

I said, "Yes."

The wishing well said, "You don't need me. You can go buy another bed. It doesn't require a wish. At least half the crap you ask for you don't need to fall out of the sky into your lap. Seriously."

I said, "Can I have my quarter back?"

The wishing well was silent. I walked back home. I thought about getting some contractor friends of mine to drain the well. I'd offer to split half the money with them.

.......

Brooks Takes His Time, my alternative folk album is now available at iTunes.

Oats!

The ghost of Aaron Burr came by this morning while I was eating breakfast. I offered him some oatmeal. I can't believe when I forget that ghosts don't eat. But still when I see a form of a former person, my automatic impulse is to be a nice host and share in whatever I'm partaking.

Burr said, "No, thank you, but please keep enjoying your breakfast."

I took a bite of my oatmeal. I really enjoy my breakfasts. I eat the same thing every morning and I never get tired of it. But then I once said the same thing about pancakes.

Burr said, "I really appreciate you not asking me about killing Alexander Hamilton. People can't seem to avoid asking me about being the cause. I always have to point out that I killed him in a duel. No one enters into a duel and finds themselves surprised that they might be killed!"

I was so glad that I still had oatmeal to eat otherwise I would have said something dumb to try and make him feel better.

Burr said, "I'm sorry to get so utterly caught up in my complaining ways. Tell me what's up with you."

I finished chewing my oatmeal and said, "Well, I recently finished a record album. It's called, Brooks Takes His Time."

Burr said, "I like the title."

I said, "Thanks. It sums up that I took my time."

Burr said, "Yes, that's exactly what I felt."

Jamming

Today I was out on the street corner playing the violin and singing songs from my new album, Brooks Takes His Time, when an elephant came by and stood and listened. It's always nice when someone stops and takes their time with the songs.

The elephant said, "Do you mind if I join in?"

I said, "Sure!"

The elephant took a harmonica out of it's pocket and began playing the harmonica with its trunk. The elephant was wailing away which draw in a nice sized audience. Some people were actually dancing. I think it will help with album sales.

Brooks Takes His Time

I like writing words. But I especially like writing words with music. It's definitely a peanut butter and jelly moment for me.

So I made an album of songs. It's called "Brooks Takes His Time." I sing my catchy alternative folk tunes with my soothing voice and simple melodies. The lyrics reveal philosophical and humorous insight (what else would you expect from me), backed by an old Gretsch guitar, harmonicas, and whistles. I recorded these songs in my low-fi home recording studio so you can feel like you're there.

"Brooks Takes His Time" is available as a download from iTunes and CDBaby

I'm Back

Creedence Clearwater Revival felt bad about leaving me out on a deserted highway at night in 1969 and came back and picked me up. I understood them leaving me out there in the first place. Musicians are sensitive and things that wouldn't bother most of us can make them go crazy. But then they write songs about it and become millionaires. It's actually the most ideal kind of recyclying.

We pulled into the parking lot of the Poughkepsie Civic Center. CCR let me join them for sound check. John Fogerty stopped mid Fortunate Son and asked his brother Tom to temporarily let me take his place as rhythm guitarist. I merrily joined in.

I was having a great time when I felt the air wobble. There was a loud humming sound. Parts of me disappeared-reappeared-then disappeared. I recognized this as the familiar in-between place of time-travel. I was moving forward through time as I passed my eight year-old self falling back into 1969. We smiled at one another and high-fived.

Then I was back in today mid-strum of Fortunate Son with John Fogerty and his traveling band.

John looked over at me and winked. He knew what was going on. We musicians seem to have an affinity with another when playing music. It's an amazing feeling that I have nowhere else in my life. This makes up for the low tour pay, lousy road food, and trying to sleep on the tour bus' bunk beds.

Travelin' Band

Okay, so here I am still in 1969. If this sounds confusing, take a look at what I wrote yesterday so you can catch up.

I left the lake where I was hiding and went to the freeway where I hitched a ride. A tour bus pulled over. I hoped in. It turns out they were a band traveling down the road to their next show. I asked them their name. I couldn't believe it. They were Creedence Clearwater Revival. But then when I thought about what had happened recently, it made sense.

I couldn't believe how quickly I thought on my feet. I told John Fogerty that in the future, he'll be performing onstage in Poughkepsie, New York and his rhythm guitarist will instantly turn to eight years old. I said, "He might be confused, so don't be angry at him. But you might want to inconspicuously unplug his guitar and let him wail away thinking he's making beautiful music." Because it was 1969, he accepted what I said and told me he was looking forward to it.

John said, "You're from the future, right?"

I said, "Yes."

John said, "What's it like?"

I said, "People still complain, there's plenty of war to go around for everyone, Nixon gets kicked out but then becomes a guru, everyone's got their own computer but they use it for porn -

Tom, John's brother, interrupts me and says, "Are we still a band?"

I said, "You'll break up in a couple of years. It's messy. You remain estranged."

They stopped the bus and let me off. I gotta stop thinking that everyone is into rock and roll trivia.

Fortunate Son

I got a job as rhythm guitarist for John Fogarty's traveling band. John was the lead singer for Creedence Clearwater Revival back in the 1960s. I loved them as a kid. I had a black light felt poster of the band on my bedroom wall. So I was thrilled to become a new member of John's band.

Tonight we were performing at the Poughkeepsie Civic Center. We launched into Fortunate Son. That song meant so much to me as a kid that I was transported back in time to when I was eight. There I was standing in my childhood bedroom in the midst of a C major 7th chord. My eight year old self was sitting on the bed reading a Hardy Boys Adventure book.

The current me said, "Don't be alarmed, it's me! The me that's you later on."

I was a fantasy kid so the younger me got it and said, "Cool! Wow, look at the guitar!" I took the guitar off and handed it to the younger me who strapped it on and strummed a big G chord. The thing is, it was such an electric amazingly connected moment that the eight year old me was transported to the stage of the Fogerty concert in Poughkeepsie and I was left alone in the younger me's bedroom.

My parents came into the room and said, "What's all the ruckus?" They saw me and were alarmed. My dad said, "What have you done with Brooks?" I knew better than to tell them, so I jumped out the window. I ran for a mile and hid down at the lake.

Luckily I have my iPhone. These things are pretty powerful because I'm writing you this blog post from 1969. Anyway, I was hoping you could send this to Concord Music Group, Fogerty's label, so it can help unravel the mess of me as eight onstage with John. I was wearing Scooby Doo PJs and all my eight-year-old self knows is the G Chord.

Helpful Information

This morning the ghost of Clarence Darrow joined me for breakfast. Mr. Darrow was the big deal lawyer who in the 1920's successfully defended John T. Scopes who was arrested for teaching evolution in schools.

Mr. Darrow said, "Mankind will always be resistant to apes being their precursors."

I said, "Have you ever seen 'Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp'?"

Mr. Darrow said, "No, what is it?"

I said, "Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp was a TV show that I watched as a kid in the early 1970's."

Mr. Darrow said, "What's TV?"

I said, "TV is a technology that was created in 1948 that allowed movie like images to appear on small screens in people's homes. But unlike the cinema, everything on the TV was true. Lancelot Link was a TV program that starred actual chimpanzees. Lancelot was a secret agent who worked for the Agency to Prevent Evil (APE). Their nemesis was an evil organization called the Criminal Headquarters for Underworld Master Plan (CHUMP). This show proved that apes were not precursors to humans but were equals with genetic malfunctions that caused them to have excessively hairy bodies. As a result, courts in the late 1970's ordered the release of all apes from zoo and science lab jails. And schools were ordered to stop teaching evolution."

Mr. Darrow was in tears. He said, "How could I have been so wrong?"

I said, "Don't worry about it. I used to think the ghosts were just in stories."

Opps Part 2: When I Was Tired

Last night I heard a mouse scamper across my bedroom floor. I got out a mouse trap and added a piece of cheese. I set the mouse trap on the floor. The thing is, they are delicate. The trap snapped closed on my index finger. I tried to open the trap and pull it off my finger, but anger and the dark mixed and I tripped over my shoes and landed on the floor.

I was in a daze. I feel something soft on my cheek. I opened my eyes and saw the mouse's face right in front of mine. The mouse said, "Are you okay?"

I said, "I don't think so."

The mouse put it's shoulder into me and I was lifted up into a sitting position. The mouse said, "Let's get you up so you can lay down in bed and rest."

I leaned on the mouse for support and I made it up and I fell back into bed. The mouse was tucking me in when it saw the mouse trap on my finger.

The mouse said, "Was this for me?"

I felt badly. I said, "Yes, I'm sorry. I was tired and made a rash decision. Can you forgive me?"

The mouse sprang open the trap, pulled my finger out, and popped the cheese in its mouth. The mouse smiled and said, "Thanks for the cheese!"