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05/17/2006: "Fevered Dreams and Other Things"

Hello to everyone from the northwest corner of Public Library grounds, where the wireless signal is thickest and where a vagrant named "Tiny" is currently lounging to my right, taking select nibbles from a bouquet of hand-picked local mushrooms and reporting to all within earshot whether or not they're "worth the trouble." Chestnut is supposed to meet me here on his lunch and go with me to the farmer's market, but last week he got banned after arguing with a group of flyering libertarians and he forgot his wig and moustache at the office.

Tumble is currently at home battling a 101-degree fever he's had for the past few days, one which he attributes to a particularly pathogenic eighth-grade class he taught last week and one I privately believe to be a result of a midnight skivvy-dipping tour of our neighbors' backyard pools that ended in an undie-clad Tumble having to hide in a tree house after the cops were called.

Tumble phoned Chestnut at work today to describe an afternoon fever-dream he'd had that he believed to be of great portent. When words failed to describe it adequately, Tumble transcribed the dream onto napkin and faxed it to Chestnut from a Kinko's. Apparently it involved Tumble storming out of the 1968 Democratic National Convention early because Darth Vader had sat on Tumble's favorite hat. I'm particulary flattered to have made a cameo:


Hopefully Tumble's comforter-swaddled, one-man procession to Kinko's and back was the boost his system needed. My laptop has informed me i'm running on reserve power and "Tiny" has informed me that he needs my bench to "lie down for a spell," so I should probably end things here.
All the best, -F