This little junket to Arizona has given me the howling fantods.
I’ve been a bit under the weather lately, so rather than heading over to LAX for a thermometer evaluation and the nasty looks from Xanax-laden passengers who might think I’ve acquired the Ebola virus, I chose to drive from LA to Phoenix, which meant six hours of sand, Joshua trees, and enough heat to make my ass-crack look like Moses’s work – yes, I could have gone with a better image, but if we’re being honest, that pretty much nailed it.
At 6:00 a.m., I hit the road, rifling through LA traffic at a 13 mph clip and wondering when the hell rush hour became rush dawn. By the time the sun rose above my upper windshield, I was outside of Blythe, and I felt that half-mast thing happening to my eyelids – you know, where you start slapping yourself and sticking your head out the window and wondering what would happen if you just closed your eyes for a few sleep-filled seconds.
I’m listening to the comedy station on Sirius radio and hoping a Robin Williams segment comes on, when some Kentucky wildcat chimes up telling redneck jokes that knock me into a Theta state. With my eyes closed – yes I know how dangerous and idiotic it is, and I am confessing it all here and thoroughly embarrassed by my carcolepsy and stupidity – with my eyes closed, I feel my tire tag the braille bumps in the road and I snap my eyes open to hear the comedian say “…and then she put a finger in my ass,” and when I look to my right, here is the view:
Back in high school, I had some friends who went out to the desert and ate mushrooms and then came back to recount their hallucinations and a new connection with nature. I called bullshit – cowshit actually – but I was a drug prude in my teens and I never investigated the psilocybin high. Point being, there is no explanation for what the hell was happening.
I’d like to be able to report that things went smoothly from there. I’d like to be able to say that the things I heard and saw were just part of my dream state. But then, there’s the evidentiary photo…. and then that uncomfortable comedy sketch came on again an hour later.
Anyway, next time, I’m flying to Phoenix. Maybe people thinking I have the Ebola virus isn’t that bad after all.
My blogs are not usually this crass, but today sort of got to me. Sorry.