Frustrated in traffic today, I tripped upon a B-52's song, reminding me of an old coping mechanism. Sing, speak, whatever, as Fred Schneider, and the tension lifts. I wouldn't have made it across across Texas without him.
*The American Film Institute has no idea what it's talking about. "The Sixth Sense," rated higher than "Goodfellas!?!" Are they fucking kidding me? The AFI nominated 400 movies for it's listing of the "100 Greatest Films Ever. The nominees included: "Big," "Boogie Nights" -- the most overrated movie EVER, " "Born on the Fourth of July," "Chicago," "Dead Poets Society," "The English Patient," "Erin Brockovich," "Finding Nemo," "Ghostbusters," "Jerry Maguire," "Love Story," "The Matrix," "Moulin Rogue!" "Mystic River," "Philadelphia," "Pirates of the Carribean," "Shrek" and "Spider-Man 2."
Missing from the list: "Being There," "The Americanization of Emily," "Barfly," "The Bad News Bears," "Crimes and Misdemeanors," "Ghost World," "Lolita" (the original), "Lone Star," "Miller's Crossing," "The Player," "Sid and Nancy," "Straw Dogs" and "Zelig," among others. Pathetic;
At least I have an excuse -- I'm on the night shift. So far, so slow, though before dusk I had a very disturbing encounter with a homeless guy.
As I took a smoke break I overheard him ranting about a former Falcons linebacker selected No. 1 in the draft (presumably Aundray Bruce). I found it amusing and made what I thought was friendly eye contact, a nonverbal huzzah for his remembering one of the Falcons' biggest busts.
"Look at the white boy over there," he said, animatedly, to anyone on the street who'd listen. "He's looking at me. Stop looking at me!"
I stopped. He didn't.
"It's the devil! Look at his eyes!"
(Earlier today my contact lens either fell out of my eye or into the deeper recesses of my eyelid. I've been itching it ever since, hence the redness.)
He wasn't finished, pointing me out to passersby, repeating his charge. He took one step forward, then retreated, then repeated -- a mix of hostility and apparent fear likely triggered by too much of a good thing.
Not wanting my secret identity revealed, I scampered inside. Fortunately my hair conceals the obligatory "666" tattoo.