V.23 No.32 | 8/7/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #354: They Live in the Bathroom
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Tue Aug 5 2014 4:28 PM ]
I step into a city park restroom through a broken cinder block wall. As I start to pee into a central basin I see dark eyes peering at me over a stall. The eyes are filled with fear.
A tall, thin dark Indian man steps out. His head and hands are wrapped in bandages. He offers, in impeccable English, to do odd jobs for me.
He presents his daughter. She is small and cute with red hair and a green dress. She lives with her father in the bathroom. She seems to know some database concepts. I know I can find some work for her. I won't be able to call her but I know where to find her.
V.23 No.29 | 7/17/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #353: I Need to Get Those Maps
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Tue Jul 22 2014 11:46 AM ]
My brother-in-law and I are about to leave on a trip for which we will need two maps: one of Phoenix and and another of Bandelier. My neighbor M has them.
A new red jeep backs up into our driveway, proceeding to their house which is behind ours. They are leaving too. I need to get to the maps. I walk around back to their house. I see the maps are already in the back of their station wagon, but their house is gone now. It's just a low wire fence around some dirt.
I see M and L sitting on a bench outside the house next door. I step over the low fences and approach them. They are watching intently as an irrigation ditch is being filled with a lot of water. A guy in a gray suit is diving for bodies. He finds one and floats it to the surface.
V.23 No.27 | 7/3/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #352: A Story About Waiting at an Intersection
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Wed Jul 2 2014 12:19 PM ]
I meet my pal E on a downtown street. He starts to tell me a long story about seeing me in my truck. According to him, I was waiting at a light for J, who stuttered as a child, to cross the street. I finally grew to impatient and raced through the intersection, causing all my bottles of prescription drugs to bounce off my rear bumper into the street.
V.23 No.26 | 6/26/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #351: Falling Off a Log
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Wed Jun 25 2014 8:16 PM ]
I am trying to follow G as she climbs a tree to get out onto a fallen-log bridge that goes over a deep canyon. I can't seem to make the last step from the tree to the log because my left foot keeps changing into something else. The log bridge shifts suddenly in its notch, knocking G off her balance and causing her to spin around it like a propeller. She files off and falls, hitting her head on a rock with a loud crack.
V.23 No.25 | 6/19/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #350: John Kerry’s Dog
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Wed Jun 18 2014 12:47 PM ]
The front seat of my truck is filled with grocery bags. I pull into John Kerry's driveway behind a white minivan. I speak with him through my window. He is offering a million dollars to anyone who can catch his dog. I can hear the dog barking in the trees out back. I see U, from work, aiming a camo-painted dart rifle at the dog while his sidekick looks on.
V.23 No.24 | 6/12/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #349: The Origin of the Butternut Root
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Tue Jun 10 2014 12:22 PM ]
I joke with my brother about the origin of the butternut root, telling him that their special flavor comes from the way they are harvested: by monkeys who store the roots in their butts as they pick them.
V.23 No.22 | 5/29/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #348: How to Paint with Watercolors
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Tue Jun 3 2014 1:16 PM ]
I receive a commission to paint a watercolor for a girl. She wants me to paint a girl pointing a gun at her. She provides me with a large palette with new grass growing on it, and stones that can be scraped for color. My pal T advises me. He has taken a watercolor class recently.
V.23 No.21 | 5/22/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #348: How to Move a Giant Basket from the Inside
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Wed May 21 2014 1:13 PM ]
I join my pal R in the task of giant Indian basket moving, which involves standing inside the giant, boat sized, wicker basket with red-painted bow-and-stern-ends, and throwing one's weight against the side or kicking at the keel to move the basket along the trail.
V.23 No.20 | 5/15/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #347: When the Aliens Come We Sleep on the Grass
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Tue May 13 2014 12:29 PM ]
My sister and I sleep on the grass in the front yard of our childhood home. The whole town has been abducted by aliens. They fly north overhead in lighted cylinders in long procession. The grass around us grows long.
V.23 No.19 | 5/8/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #346: She is Crazy
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Tue May 6 2014 1:28 PM ]
As I return from my jog I pass some bleachers. Two beautiful blonds call out to me: 'We're single! You're single!' I give them dual thumbs up and then trip and stumble as I continue on. I hear laughter. Later, inside, I recline on the couch in an embrace with the taller of the two. I am awestruck by her familiar beauty. She seems to be attracted to me too. Then I see the problem: she is crazy. She channels Napoleon and her bare skull face is tightly bound with many windings of dental floss.
V.23 No.18 | 5/1/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #345: Playing Footsie During an Exam
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Tue Apr 29 2014 4:59 PM ]
I am sitting in a class with next to a blond, tanned beauty. She is playing footsie with me. We are in the middle of a written/oral exam.
Q: “Will she have used load average = overdrive?”
A: “If she drove faster than five!”
V.23 No.17 | 4/24/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #344: Telling Jokes on a Furniture Store Bed
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Tue Apr 22 2014 3:53 PM ]
I am walking through the mall. I pass my old friend D and her dark-haired Aussie girlfriend. D gives me a severe look. I bow and kiss her hand. She wears a gold band on her finger. She asks me when I'm going to grow up. I tell her it's too late, so never. We are joined on a furniture store bed by four of her friends. I joke in response to some anecdote: “That will kaak in your craw!” This gets a big laugh. One of the girls is playing with my tie. I see where this is going.
V.23 No.16 | 4/17/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #343: Chili Powder Miniaturizes My Friend
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Wed Apr 16 2014 2:55 PM ]
Against our advice, my friend B consumes an entire package of red chili powder, rendering him microscopic. I can still hear his tiny voice, but I can't see him.
V.23 No.15 | 4/10/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #342: The Long Boat Returns From Battle Deserted
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Tue Apr 8 2014 3:56 PM ]
I am led inside a darkened long boat to look at a car for sale. It is a 3/4 size 1930s sedan with a sleeping compartment in the rear—all black and chrome. The guy wants $100 or $200K. The car is also amphibious, owing to its large, grey running boards. The guy will demonstrate, but the fog on the beach is still too heavy.
"They're not letting anyone in yet." Soon, everyone leaves for the battle.
Jack Sparrow explains: "I actually try not to kill too many people, and trust God to keep me safe." I tarry, looking for my gloves.
I start to run up the river bank, realizing I am late. I picture myself helping with the wounded and the ammo on the long boat, as I have done before. But the long boat has already returned, nearly deserted.
I climb aboard and hear the cries: "They sucked our blood everywhere!"
I now hear war whoops, like coyotes, from up the river. N, dressed in black, walks somberly past me.
"Scairdy?" she asks, then quotes: "'Even his little will be taken away from him.'"
V.23 No.14 | 4/3/2014
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #341: I Meet the Farmer’s Daughters
By Brutus De Cervantes [ Tue Apr 1 2014 1:43 PM ]
Song: "All my life, all your life, yer numb, yer numb, yer dumb, and then you die…"
In a field near the top of my childhood street I search for a place to build a fort for my nephews. I examine a shady, overgrown area behind some rusty corrugated siding. An old farmer appears. He is friendly and leads me into a huge house he is remodeling. I see his wife down a long hallway with a plywood floor. In the living room, I meet his three daughters. The farmer resumes painting above the mantle. The middle daughter tells a story about my old friend S. I ask about S’ sister. I ask if S is married.
"No, but close to it—with (girl's name)!"
"That's even better!" I say.
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