Resurrection

On 12/9/06 I wrote:

One evening back in October I was in Walgreen's, to pick up a prescription. There was a long line. Why so many people out at nine at night? Frickin inescapable Rod Stewart tune playing. Would this take forever?

In front of me was a Mexican guy, dressed in sweat pants, husker T shirt. With him was one whom I assumed was his country cousin, new to the U.S. He was wearing a white cowboy hat and dress shirt with t he collar all buttoned-up. He looked more Indian than mestizo.

With these men were two boys, probably about 10 years old. One of the boys was very big, very stout, an amiable, quiet, chubby kid, probably make a good offensive lineman some day. His hair was black bristles.

His companion, probably his brother or cousin, was all acute angles, kind of nervous, reminded of a young Peter Lorre with a "flop" haircut like kids on skateboards often have, the flop covering one eye, the other eye blazing with intensity... he did most of the talking for the two, and sounded sort of like Ren of the Ren and Stimpy cartoon program. I had a feeling about that kid - that he will someday be in all our faces. I don't know how - appearing in commercials for his own car dealership? State Senator? Future Cecille B. DeMille? Something.

These boys were obviously bored waiting in line with their elders. Their pleas were plaintive - the responses curt:

"Puh-leeeeeeese?"
"No."

"Puh-leeeeese?"
"No."

"Puh-leeeeese?"
"No."

A wilfull game of pong.

Finally, country cousin says: "Bueno. Pero quedan cerca." (Which I think means he was telling him to stay close.) Okay. They wanted to look around the store. Permission granted. Off they went.

So: I go back to waiting, and listening to an astonishingly shitty Christopher Cross tune..."If you get drunk between the moon and New York City..." was a second verse really necessary. How many years of my life are spent waiting in lines... seven? Nine? Stop-lights. Awfull. You might think that I had been through enough but that would be wrong. They followed up Christopher Cross with that cheese-wad tune "Torn Between Two Lovers" by Mary Whats-her-bucket. Perhaps you have heard it . Gawd it is bad. Perhaps I was a pirate in a past life, and was thus now being punished. Is it medically possible to DIE of EMBARRASSMENT waiting in line in a Walgreens?

Then: a buzzing sound. I looked behind the line. They have a vibro-chair by the prescription counter there, that the customers can "test drive"at their leisure... In it sat one of the boys, the stout one. Over his head was a rubber Frankenstein-monster mask. As this was October, the aisles were teeming with tacky delights. Fake blood. Plastic fangs. Rubber bats.

"MAS PODER" said the skinny kid in stentorian tones. "MAAAAASSSSS PODER!" (More Power?)

Obeying himself , he turned the crank up. The hum rose an octave. Those cadaverous eyes stared sightless, dead and dead. "MAS PODER!! MAAAASSSSS PODER!!!! And the chair hit a higher hum.

The kid in the Frankenstein mask jiggled as only a chubby kid in a vibro-chair could. His bosomage rippled and quaked, like pockets of custard. He let out a deep sort of growl - which with the jigglng sounded like this: r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-and then those dead and deadly hands began to twitch!

In the grip of some unnatural reverie, the other one intoned: "MIRA! LO VIVaaay!!! LO VIVV-vaaaaay!!! (Behold! It is alive! It is alive!)

These two had seen the original with Boris Karloff, no doubt, probably on the late show, and it had stayed remembered. By this time I was in the helpless depths of a giggle-fit... I suppose the people in front of me in line thought I was weeping for want of pills or something.

And then Country Cousin busted them both, sounding like he was quietly telling them to take the mask back to the shelf and get off the vibro-chair or he would do some serious ass-paddlin. They obeyed, and they all left me to the tender mercies of Light-Rock 102.

I believe I shall remember this incident always, like the sight or song of a rare bird . So: if in my dotage I am parked in a dark corner in a wheelchair and I suddenly beller out: "MASSS PODER!!!" you and I will know what that was about, yes?

-M