(brian wilson song)
(from bootleg album “adult child”)
(from 1977)
(a drunk carl wilson on lead vocals)
(with marilyn wilson singing the bridge)
last night i told off my final female friend (16-year-old “heather lynn smith”). it seemed appropriate (she was extolling the musical virtues of some accordion-playing comic-con performer and called me a “worthless 30-year-old”).
finally i ran over to “hoagie haven” sometime before midnight (ordering a foot-long cheese-steak with onions and hot peppers over the phone). they all sell the same brand of iced tea ’round these parts (“fuze”). i spent around $9 in all on the meal (plus another $2.50 at the “ivy inn” ATM). at least they didn’t charge me a cover to be admitted!
i was in bed for damn near 12 hours (12 – 12)
first i dreamt of an airplane crash. i made it out alive but found it quite difficult to exit the plane…
then i dreamt of a parking lot (it seemed a hybrid of watchung + long hill). i was playing one of my songs for my former guitar teacher “don rodrigo”. the song (“don juan rodrigo”) was dedicated to him. he merely criticized the chord progression. then i entered my mother’s car (we were headed to some dentist’s appointment?)
then i dreamt of watchung hills. there was some sort of academic/political debate being moderated by a “bill maher” type in the auditorium (i’d fallen asleep to a “real time with bill maher” playlist). they were discussing mitt romney’s income tax returns. most of the panel members appeared decidedly “urban” (with funky hairdos to boot). finally some mild-mannered indian man worked up the courage to speak as the host congratulatedly patted him on the back. then the group walked to the cafeteria. i was walking with jeff bassman as he told me he “wished he got the grades that i did”. i tried my best to catch up with brad lubeck (who was walking far ahead of the pack). instead, i caught up with danielle naccarato. i tried to show her a photo i took of her on my iphone but she was thoroughly disgusted (“have you been drinking bleach?”) so i went to the men’s room where some bozo was discussing the recent debate as he pissed into a urinal (“i’m starting to really like romney…”) dean abel entered the bathroom…
upon entering the cafeteria, i noted they were serving hot dogs and melted cheese everywhere
(there were even servers delivering plates to individual tables)