Eddie and me in "Matty"
1. Eddie Frierson, who was my Facebook-assigned Best Friend for the Day yesterday. Eddie is best known for performing a one-man show about sixteenth century baseball player Christy Mathewson in a one-man show titled Matty. Although his most memorable performance of the part came on the only occasion that he did it as a two-man show, when he invited me to join him in a special performance win which he requested me to enact one of the myriad of roles that Eddie usually takes on himself – primarily because he can’t stand the idea of sharing the stage with anyone else. Eddie made an exception on this occasion because the show – unbeknownst to me until we arrived there – was being performed at a home for juvenile offenders (or Juvenile Hall, as they used to refer to it on Dragnet). It was disconcerting enough to have the security measures that we would be required to follow run down for us by the hard-nosed matron; the thing that worried me was that at one point my character (a simple-minded rube who was adopted by Mathewson’s team as a good luck charm, and was so successful for them that they actually allowed him to play in a major league game) was required to sit at the foot of the stage and cry like a little girl. I was concerned that I would have to break down in front of a roomful of murderers and hoodlums and decided that Frierson had only asked me along to act as a human shield in case anything went awry. To my astonishment, the kids turned out to be an attentive and receptive audience, and you couldn’t hear a pin drop during my big, emotional scene – except, perhaps, for the sound of my heart pounding as I scanned the auditorium for semi-automatics rising from the seats to take me out of the picture.
Jason Fogelson: Born to Ride
2. Jason Fogelson, who posted that he had written the “penultimate blog entry about my motorcycle trip to Texas, on the Best Western site.” There are two things about that statement that bothers me. One is his use of the word penultimate, which of course means “next-to-last” and which Fogelson obviously uses correctly in his post. But it’s no secret that many people think that “penultimate” means “better than ultimate”, or being so effing great that it exceeds even the highest possible rate of coolness that can be measured for any bitchin’ thing. It brought to my mind a conversation with a woman I once lived with, who misused a similarly afflicted word in “infamous”. I explained to her the actual meaning of the word and used as an example “Abraham Lincoln was famous, Hitler was infamous”, upon which she looked at me as though she was a cave dweller who was being explained the concept of fire for the first time. So I take issue with Fogelson for bringing up such painful memories, and hopes that he burns in hell for it. My second problem with his post is that he is collecting a fat paycheck to tool around Texas on a Harley and stay at luxurious Best Western Motels while I am chained to a gray cubicle. I’ll get even with him for that if it’s the last thing I do.
Stephanie Fredricks
3. Stephanie Fredricks who made inquiries of my dark master Gary Lamb how he was able to perform the mind meld that he has me in to the point where I am compelled to do his bidding. Before you go dabbling too deeply into the Black Arts, Stephanie, I want to remind you that it has taken Lamb decades – nay, centuries to reach the level of conjuring abilities that he has risen to, and it will take more than buying a few magic beans in order to take me on. While it is true that I am powerless in Lamb’s Satanic grasp, it must also be remembered that he is so old and decrepit that he influence over me will be very short-lived indeed. And when Lamb inevitably kicks the bucket in the next few days or so, I will spring back more powerful than ever, looking for retribution against those who turned on me in my weakened state. So before you choose sides in this battle, I suggest that you look at the Big Picture first.
Amy Ball
4. Amy Ball, who is currently on her world-wide walkabout in Amsterdam in a failed attempt to get over her desire for me. Since a friend of mine is about to go to Amsterdam, I contacted Ms. Ball about any suggestions for accommodations. Her response was a passionate love note declaring her need for me in graphic lurid detail, ending with a threat to kill herself if I didn’t declare myself to be hers when she returned. At least that’s what I assumed it said since I accidentally erased it before reading it. But some things you don’t have to actually see in order to know their content, and it’s obvious to me that Ms. Ball’s lust for me is just as strong now as it ever was; and I have no doubt whatsoever that she would be the first to agree with that statement.
