Hyped up from the game last night, but knowing I had to get to bed if I wanted to be able to function in the morning, I lay in bed with my mind rolling. I wasn't thinking about football, but a really great idea for a blog post that had popped into my head.This is fairly normal. My mind is at its most productive and creative in those moments when it has nothing better to do while waiting for a chance in state. Driving, showering, and waiting for sleep are my most creative moments.
Except, especially with sleep, these are the moments where I'm the least likely to get the idea recorded. When I'm driving I'll sometimes be able to hang on to the idea long enough to get to a computer or a pen and paper. The same goes for showering, but when I'm waiting for sleep, I usually just really concentrate on the idea for a few minutes and then drift off to sleep. Usually I forget the brainstorming session entirely, but today I remember well coming up with the post idea, even down to which position I was in while musing in bed, but I haven't the slightest clue what the idea was. You'd think that, this being a common enough problem, that I'd keep a pen and paper on the nightstand next to me, but you'd be wrong. Getting to the lamp would require getting out of bed and the light would wake up K, who would then freak out and have trouble getting back to sleep, and I'd end up having to start the process of drifting off all over again just to get down an idea that probably sucked to start with.
So instead of a poignant work of brilliance, you're stuck with another of my college comedy skits. I actually think this one is pretty good, although the ending is a bit weak. I am finding that I had a disturbing fondness of the word "flatulence" although I am proud to say that my fart jokes never actually involved any actual passing of gas. It was really a much more intellectual fart humor than what you usually see these days. I'm also noticing a trend of mocking those who are overly serious about spirituality and poetry. Not sure where exactly that was coming from, but it's interesting to see now. I've actually redacted a few references to the college I attended as the setting was on that campus.
The Wise Man on the Mountain
[Skit starts off with three people in a car driving down a narrow road through the woods. All are college aged. They are talking and laughing about random stuff. Jon is driving. Greg is in the front passenger seat and Janice is sitting in the back]
Greg: [motions for others to hush] Ok, we're almost there.
Janice: I can't wait. He's supposed to be the wisest man on campus.
Jon: I don't know, they say he's pretty weird. He's been living up there on the mountain by himself for 20 years. [conspiratorially] I hear he doesn't wear any clothes.
Greg: Jon, you're full of it. Of course he's weird. You can't be enlightened if you blindly follow the constructs of a society that is only a figment of our over-active imaginations, fueled by cheap rum-and-cokes that are funneled into us by the "Man." If you stay on this pa…
Janice: What in the world are you talking about Greg?
Greg: [as if snapping out of a daze] Never mind, we're here. All we have left is to hike down this trail for a little and we should find him.
[The three set off on the trail with a bouncy step, laughing and singing 100 bottles of beer on the wall. Scene cuts to them farther down the trail, struggling to take another step. Jon pulls himself along on his hands and knees.]
Jon: [collapsing to the ground and speaking as if out of breath] Greg, how much longer until we get to this "guru" of yours?
Greg: [sitting down] I'm not sure.
Jon: [somehow managing strength to yell although completely prone] You're not sure! You drag us up to Mountain Campus to see some freak and leave us to die!?
Wise man: Silence child. Anger makes flatulence smell sour.
[Camera pans to side of trail where the wise man sits in the lotus position.]
Greg: [on knees, bowing before wise man] Oh, wise man of the mountain, please hear our questions and open our eyes to the truth.
Janice: [whispering] Greg is really weird.
Jon: [whispering back] Hey, he's your boyfriend.
Wise man: Greg, your friends conspire against you. It is unwise to walk in the woods with angry cows. They may refuse to let you eat hamburgers.
Greg: Oh, you are wise, wise man.
Janice: Ok, Greg, Jon and I are leaving. This wise man of yours is making no sense to us. We'll just be waiting back at the car, Ok?
Wise man: [to none] Those who fart too much cannot make pear jam.
Janice: Oh that actually made sense. It's all making sense to me now.
Jon: What!? That didn't make any sense at all! "Those who fart too much cannot make pear jam?" Come on now. It's all just a gimmick. He makes really vague comments so you can read whatever you want into them.
Janice: No, he is wise. He has opened my eyes to the truth. [She goes and kneels beside Greg who hasn't move since he first kneeled.]
Wise man: Those who cannot see have no arms.
[The wise man pulls out a board and lays it across the backs of Greg and Janice's back. Then he places a tablecloth, a teapot and two cups on the board.]
Wise man: Would you care to join me for tea?
Jon: [Yelling] No! You're not wise! You're evil!
[Jon runs back to the car. Scene cuts to just as he gets to the parking lot. He is now walking.]
Jon: [To himself] Maybe it was all a dream. I went to a party had a little too much to drink and my friends decided to play a trick on me. Yeah that's it. None of it really happened. [Jon smiles to himself and walks to his car. When he sees the windshield his smile fades. On it is a parking ticket.] Oh no! Not that! This day has already been bad enough. [He turns the ticket over and it reads "Those that park cannot drive" followed by a wordless shriek of horror] He's making sense to me now too! NOOOOOOO!!!!!!. [His screams echo in the woods.]
Actually, now I think I'd pick back up where the guru turns Janice and Greg into a tea table and asks Jon if he'd like some tea and replace the ending with Jon accepting the gurus invitation and the scene fades to black as the two talk about celebrity dating stories or something equally vapid.