Ah this morning when I woke up it was 4 AM for no reason. There are no reasons at 4 AM. (“Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin?” – Rents) But, fool that I am, I said to myself, “I’ll be back asleep in a jiffy, I will.” Then, I did the famous in-bed foot-stamp. “I’m going to be asleep in no time.” Finally, the shrieking screaming two-year-old-throwing-self-to-floor tantrum erupted, “I’m going to sleep!”
I did fall asleep three hours later. I slept for about six minutes before my Snooze alarm sounded for the fourth time. At 7:10 AM, I’m pretty much relegated to immediately get out of bed to make it to work at 8:00.
I also shaved this morning for the final time with the current cartridge. Having showered the night before, I didn’t wash up, I just went straight from bed to blades. Normally I’d wash my face with hot water. Why? I don’t use shaving cream.
It all ‘minds me of my favorite misheard lyric. From Jay-Z’s song Allure the actual line is “Stop shaving coke / stay away from hoes” I like to sing as “Stop shaving cold / stay away from hoes” (as in gardening/farming-related tools). Why? Because I’ve never sold nor used the cocaine. The last thing I need is something to speed up my system. And my inserted lyric makes perfect sense, because shaving cold is bad. Very bad.
The first pass of full-on below-nose contact was a tug-and-drag. I don’t think I shaved a single whisker. My technique this morning could be described as a three-bladed non-electric lift-and-keep-lifting system. Seriously, I believe I pulled out each hair rather than slicing them. That first swipe was badass. That’ll wake you up in the morning! I almost did one of my Dad’s profanity-laden-gibberish-toe-stub-tirades. (for example, “god-ooble-aaable-yayahomina-f&$#in’-scurv-dog!”)
Sucking it up, I then finished the rest and all was good. But I am always washing with hot water first to soften the whiskers. And that cartridge is gone, because those three blades be dull. Real dull.
Now, to the actual matter of discussion for the day:
Do you ever listen to an opera (let’s say Mozart’s Zauberflöte because I’ve just been thinking about Jay-Z’s Allure) and then find yourself wishing for the ability to go back in time? Why, you ask? I would bring Mozart to our current day and take him to an evening at the opera to show him his own production: big event, black-tie, still-in-vogue and über-popular, what 250ish years later. 300 years? 600 years? Thirteen hundred? Whenever. Anyway, we’ve established the time travel, composer-napping in order to show him his opera today. Let him bask in how people adore his genius all these many years later.
Then, after the opera, I’d take him out dancing!
No, no, no. This is not a Mozart-date, this is a Mozart-napping.
After the opera, I’d take him to a movie theater and throw on the original version of The Empire Strikes Back with premium sound system and a 90′ screen. Why this social/time experiment? I’d like to know what the opera composers of old would think of a modern film, complete with excellent musical score (Empire’s score is so choice; if you ever get the chance I highly recommend you pick one up).
Prior to the film, “Now, Herr Mozart, this is what we call a space opera… bitch.” Here’s how we do things down in Toontown. Roll film. And as wild as any opera he wrote Empire Strikes Back would be. Shock and awe.
That, or slip Mozart some 3D glasses and show him some Captain Eo. What with the singing and dancing, likesay. Eee-hee.
Failing the time travel and kidnapping aspect, I’d like to take a girl to an opera. Know anyone?
I kinda think I’d like to hear the word “yayahomina” used more often.