Theme: Something ridiculous
By James JAJAC


Today when I woke up in stead of exiting thru the door I opted for the window. In my robe and slippers I jumped down onto the street. A moment later a golden limo-zine pulled up and I climbed into thru skylight and we peeled down the street. I stood up on the seat looking out like a tooth pick in a submarine sandwich. We drove down Santa Monica blv and I saw such luminaries as John Belushi (throwing darts at palm trees), Elmo (break dancing on some cardboard), a blue giraffe (juggling knives), a fellow named Harry Buttkiss (wearing a bib with a lobster on it, and crying), two ceiling fans (wrestling each other for the last hersheys kiss), and Don Knotts (the annual dead guy beat box competition). While we were waiting at the light I saw a floating pineapple and I waved at it. He suggested I find a plot rather than just rushing through weird details but the light changed before I could ask him what he meant.

I suppose he meant that in every great story something has to happen, something has to be at stake. I guess it’s a way of mentally rewarding people for the trouble of absorbing so much content. Like a good joke has a good surprise, a good story should tie things together in a surprising and satisfying way. Though contrary to what the pineapple said, I always hear that the best things don’t follow the rules (hmmn).

Then we went limo surfing. You know how it is, it’s all the rage at queens beach. It’s where you put a surf board under each wheel and just hit the waves (I know its so obvious right!). Well were really makin a splash that day, a whole fleet of obese starfish wearing bi focals, pulled up beside us in a raft and started cheering us on! They were all eating tubs of KFC chicken legs and yelling things like “hooray!”, “ole”, “boobles mcgoobles!!” “I love butter”, Shit like that. You know starfish. LOL.

After a while it seemed we had drifted out to sea and I remembered why I was in such a rush to get out of the house that day. I had left a nuclear bomb resting on the roof of a high rise building next to an eagles nest on central park west. I had also forgotten to do my taxes, also on a rooftop, but this one was next to a hawks nest on the lower east side, but in addition to that: I had forgotten about the blind guy I had rented. I had told him to wait for me on top of the Chrysler building. I hate it when this happens. I get distracted sometimes. Oh well.

I figured I would get to all of it eventually.

I called out to the driver: SUBMERGE!!! And the limo dived beneath the surface of the water. There was a fine view of an underwater city, and a totally bitchin’ ice cream parlor. Then I saw an animated sea dragon doing some BMX biking one the aqua ramps for ESPN, it was so cool. It made me wish I was an animated sea dragon, SIGH, dare to dream, dare to dream.

We passed through the ancient city of ‘Sky Village’, this was the former cloud kingdom of DINGDONG 9. It was really pretty but was a complete tourist trap at this point. I bought a postcard and I don’t even know why; I know I’ll never send it. Some how underwater travel began to weigh on me, I started to feel listless and claustrophobic. I spoke into the intercom:

James: Limo driver, if you please, take us back to the top of the sea.

Limo driver: Yes indeed, if you are displeased, back on the surface is where we shall be!

James: Thank you, being under the sea was fine, but I’d sure like to be able to see the sky.

Limo driver: ho ho, hee hee, leave it to me, leave it to me, look out world- here comes a limo-zine!!!

And we rocketed toward the surface breaking thru the water like a sheet of glass, we took off into the sky like a missile. I was pressed back into the seat, and for about 28 seconds I could not stop laughing. Once we hit the clouds we leveled off and began to coast at a normal driving speed.

I remembered the things I had forgotten to do but I had no interest in getting to them. It was as if I had invented them just for the sake of giving my day a sense of urgency. What would be the point of that? It seems like most of the stuff that happens in peoples lives isn’t all that big a deal. Just think how people get so excited about little things, always yelling into their cell phones like the world is going to end because they lost their bag of ‘skittles’ or what ever. I just kinda let my mind wander as the world went drifting by. It is moments like these that I would think: “wow it’s all so surreal”, but is it really? What the heck is so surreal about reality? Mostly it just seems really silly and crushingly ordinary. Maybe it’s a safer bet to just live in a world of fantasy and pretend that nothing exists that you don’t experience first hand. I could rewrite history starting from my bed room window. Nothing else exists, sure it would be indulgent, but whose gonna dig me up to tell me I’m wrong? If the world is full of thieves and murderers how come I’m not dead? Ooh the mini bar has cheddar cheese, awesome!! Maybe I’m just lucky.

The sun was setting out there. I’ve seen it millions of times in photographs but there is never anything like seeing it for real. A photo is just a square (or a rectangle) in real life its every where, all around you, a full 360 degrees of bright orange sunset. I like when the sun turns into a little red dot and slowly disappears. It’s kooky.

I spoke into the intercom:

James: Hello there my man, whats say we slow it down.

Limo driver: Hey hey, all the way, is there some where you want to be?

James: Yes it seems, there are a couple of stops I have to make.

Limo driver: Enter you destination onto the computer screen, and we’ll be there before you can sneeze.

Dot dot beep beep - I pressed enter and the limo took a sharp right, we weaved thru the buildings and drew to a complete stop hovering just above a building. I looked out onto the roof top at the nuclear bomb. It turns out the eagle was a nuclear scientist and had disarmed it and turned it into a barbeque; A family of eagles were seated at a tiny picnic table eating grilled eagle food (what ever that is). I shrugged my shoulders and the limo driver and I shared a laugh.

I crossed “pick up nuclear bomb next to eagles nest” off of my ‘to-do list’.

We launched back through the city, heading down fifth avenue 80 feet off the ground, after a couple of quick turns, we came to a stop.

I rolled down my window to grab the manila envelope with my tax info off of the ledge. I felt a tinge of anxiety knowing that I was probably going to be late getting them in, when a bespeckled hawk seated in a leather recliner beside his nest called out: “Old bean, I saw you had left your taxes here, and I had my accountant put everything in order for you. Chip, chip cheerio and all that.”!

“Wow, that awful kind of you mister hawk, how ever can I repay you?”

“Tish - tosh, no need for that, I’m just doing my part- ‘Be good to others and they shall be good to you’”

I was shocked, I saw the limo driver wipe a hawk shaped tear from his eye; I said thank you again and the hawk just smiled confident cool and hawk like and we rocketed off again to rescue my rented blind man from the roof of the Chrysler building.

Well as we pulled up the first thing I noted was the strobe light, then the sign (also in Braille): “Blind man roof top disco bonanza” there we’re about 3 dozen blind folks getting groovy up there. And to think I worried at all! Note: blind people DO dance with their canes.

I was like:

“DAA-MMN, you blind folk is groovy”,

And they was like:

“Mmm Hmn, We know!”

“Does any body need a ride?” I yelled, but they didn’t even hear me. They were lost in the fever; ‘The blind man rooftop disco bonanza’- fever. I hear it’s catching.

The driver honked twice and we took off again.

Well there were two more off the list

--Pick up taxes next to hawks nest.

--Rescue blind man from perilous rooftop.

That was actually pretty easy. I turned the page over to see if I missed anything.

“Punch a lobster” it said. Fuck that! There’s no way I’m going to punch a lobster. That’s just silly. I crumpled up my list and tossed it into the limo shaped garbage can.



We drifted through the darkened sky with stars bumping against the windows, I think it was time to go home.

He pulled up in front of my abode, and I said thank you and shook the drivers hand. It made my day I told him and then I gave him a million dollars.

As he pulled away a lobster jumped out of the bushes with a switch blade. “I’m going to carve you like a pumpkin” he screamed! With out even thinking I punched him as hard as I could. His body lifted off the ground and he flew threw the air like a kite colliding with a pineapple. The switch blade ran through it and they both hit the ground with a ridiculous “DONK”. It was a grisly scene. Then a baby bear came and ate them both as Don Knotts did his beat box thang (oh c’mon).

As I was climbing back into my window I thought about what the pineapple had said. It was something about a plot and how in every good story something has to happen. I wondered if what he said was true and if what I had done that day fulfilled this bizarre requirement.

I didn’t feel a sense of urgency through it all, and there was definitely not a lot at stake, but I had fun and maybe just maybe that counts for something too.

I climbed into bed and I found that post card in my robe pocket. It made me a little depressed but then I got an idea and laughed. I would send it to that kind hawk. He certainly deserved it. Its fun to mail things, and one good turn deserves another.

The ceiling was white, like the white of my calm and satisfied mind. I felt slightly serene with a few lingering doubts that I had left a few things unresolved. Ahh it doesn’t matter. I can finish it all tomorrow. It’s another day so they say.

THE END