Monday, October 6, 2008

Martin Landau was in my dreams

and that's rarely a good thing.

he was playing the role of a former Nazi and university professor during a campus evacuation.

he could tell that I had attended a closing night celebration for the local musical (impressive since I never would've guessed I would've been there) with his niece, with whom he was attempting to reunite, by applying the flame of a cigarette lighter to the pads of my fingers (they turned blue, supposedly signifying I had played an organ that evening (again, that would also be news to me)).

while I cowered in a modified fetal position (complete with finger sucking from the burns) on the hallway floor of university building, Landau forced a black and white family photograph in front of me. a group shot with several austere faces, but in front, and smiling, his sister, and his niece as a little girl.
the family dog perched in front appeared to be a pekingese, but with a face favoring Lucille Ball.

I don't write 'em, sports fans. I just dream 'em.

busy ain't genius, baby. busy ain't genius.

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