MEDIA, 04/27/99: TV Spring. Felt like it wouldn't happen this year. Felt like this frozen chunk of shit we call home just wouldn't whiz closer to the sun, warm our bones and turn said chunk of shit into the green fecund playland it yearns to be. I was enjoying the sun. The play of warm breeze on my upturned face making me think of sex and Disney. I had been wondering what shade of lipstick Monica was wearing when interviewed by Barbara. Seems the switchboards at ABC were afire after said interview with just that question. Club Monaco is having a tuff time keeping up with the demand for that particular shade of president caressing stain. Which leads me to sex and Disney. Word at ABC is their story about pedophiles at Disneyland was given the big white gloved thumb down by Disney management. Quick! Guess who owns ABC. Hint: Its not me. (psssst, you have to fuck a mouse to get to the top, pass it on.)

Then I hear it: "Hi, how are ya? Whadya been up to?" I sit up. Hyperventilating, my body dumps adrenaline into the bloodstream, fight or flight mode kicks in. My mind goes blank. As the seconds tick by I become more panicked, adrenaline makes the urge to run almost unbearable. Maintain, maintain I repeat to myself like a mantra.

The thing is I am generally very happy. No real complaints to speak of. Well, I did hear Preston Manning (leader of Canada's Reform Party) on an Ottawa radio morning show. When asked what he thought about furbies Preston said he would have to check with his public relations department before issuing a statement. Know what a furbie is? A little creature toy that's fury and burbles and is able to build its burbling capacity as if it were learning from and responding to its environment. I'm not sure which was worse: discovering that furbies had created a consumer feeding frenzy or that the leader of Canada's official opposition in federal parliament is so unable to think for himself he can't come up with a comment on a toy masquerading as a thinking creature. Wait, I think I just described Preston.

Other than that I'm great. No real complaints. Well, there was time I was playing with the kids and some putrid bit of well healed slime let his St. Bernard bite a hole through our ball. Claiming there was no way for him to confirm the ball was hole-free prior to his dog chomping it could not be expected to open his wallet and squeeze out the 5 or 6 bucks to replace it. And suggested that perhaps this was some sort of scam we had concocted. To have pulled out a gun and blown a big fucking hole in his head would have been pure bliss.

Outside of that...O.K. there is something else. Hardly worth mentioning really but the planet is turning into a steaming, fetid ball of toxic crap. I'm not saying that corporate greed and glutinous consumers are to blame - actually that is what I'm saying. Child labour. Radioactive rivers. Poverty. The U.S. has approved a plan that will see toxic waste poured onto pastures growing feed for animals coming to a barbeque near you. "Hey Hank, bossy's starting to glow better milk and slaughter her before she succumbs to heavy metal poisoning." If she dies on her own law says she's only fit for fido. Kill her before she hits the ground and she's prime rib.

Calm blue ocean. Calm blue ocean. Deep breath. Make eye contact. "I'm fine thanks, not much and you?"