Monthly Archives: November 2016

A Dream of Drug Busts and Drugs

In real life, I stayed home on Saturday night. It was cold outside and I was out of money, but I wanted to go out and meet someone, somewhat like I did last weekend. Instead, I just stayed home and watched SNL, sometimes flirting with women on online dating with no consequences or results. After SNL, I went to bed.


I dreamt that I lived in a house on either Lake and Garfield or Lake and Aldrich in Uptown. It was Saturday night and I was staying home for the same reasons as I listed in real life. Only, instead of going to bed, I was suffering from insomnia. I had the same roommates I currently have plus Katie and her boyfriend, Tony. My roommates were all out, so I had the house to myself. I spent my evening haunting the creaky old house, turning TVs on and off, going from room to room, playing some music on the piano or bass, but always listening to the parties going on around the bars of Lyn-Lake and being too broke to go out.

Around 3:00 in the morning, people started returning to the house. I was sitting in a below ground patio or sunroom watching TV because I was bored in the house and I wanted to cool off in the cooler sunroom. I remember Tony coming home and telling me about how great it was being out and how he went to this rave and stuff. He brought some folks back to his room and the commotion continued. I just sat in the basement sunroom and watched black-and-white cowboy shows on broadcast TV.

After awhile, Tony came downstairs with some girls and they took a seat in some chairs. I continued to sit on the couch. Then some cops came in through the screen door, some with submachine guns, and asked to search the house. I said, “Sure,” because I was feeling apathetic and reasonably sure they wouldn’t find anything. They left the room and I heard them rummaging around the house. I started getting up from the couch, but then another cop came in through the door and started shooting the floor with his submachine gun. I sat back down. He had a shocked expression on his face when he looked at me and said he was sorry.

“Am I under arrest?” I asked. He told me no, but also ordered me not to wander off too far. I went outside into the autumn air and watched as the police brought the entire neighborhood on lockdown. Some stray drunk girl told me that this was a mass drug bust by the police. I saw search lights, pat downs, arrests, and maybe even a helicopter overhead.

“Oh look!” the girl said, stumbling around, “Tiger Woods!”

I looked up the alley behind It’s Greek To Me and the Jungle Theater and there were men in towels coming out of a sauna that I didn’t even know was there, and sure enough, there was Tiger Woods.

The people that weren’t being arrested were continuing their Saturday night party in the street around the cops. They were too drunk to care. In the parking lot of Dulanos, I ran into Jazzy. She was definitely on something because she was beside herself with happiness.

“McScarry! You’ve gotta try this!” she said, swishing around a screw-top water bottle of juice.

“What’s in it?” I asked.

She giggled and said, “Drugs.”

Normally I don’t do drugs, but I’ve always had a crush on this girl for years and years. I took her screw-top bottle, opened it, and drank. It tasted like mango-peach with a strange side taste, slightly metallic. I put the top back on and handed her bottle back.

We embraced and started making out in the parking lot. It was intense and enjoyable. I began to think that I hadn’t made out with anyone like this in a long time. I also began to feel the drugs begin to kick in and I felt lighter and lighter. I was beginning to feel happy, really happy. I pulled back from making out to look at Jazzy in the face, but the drugs were really just waking me up.


I laid in bed for awhile after this dream, thinking about what this dream meant. I was sober. I did not drink anything yesterday and I did not go out. My subconscious was definitely punishing me for not going out last night.

Taking Home A Stray Human

Something unusual happened to me this weekend. On Saturday night, after winning at poker, I decided that I would go out. That is pretty usual. Normally, I would hang out in Dinkytown, but that night, I had an urge to go to the CC Club in Uptown. I hadn’t been there in a long time, but I felt the need to be around some youngsters, occupy a barstool, and observe my surroundings while enjoying a few ales. It took awhile for a stool to open up, but when it did, I ordered my drink and decided to watch.

I occupied a nice piece of real estate. I was at the corner, where I could watch people enter and exit, but also at this corner I could pay attention to the other people inside. My corner was on a main thoroughfare, yet it was isolated from the common bar service. I had a nice slice of peace to ponder my future and to briefly look at who these other people were.

I seldom people watch. I think it is a bit of a creepy activity, but on Saturday night, I was in a particularly open minded. I also felt rather passive. Usually, I would try harder to meet new people, like try to strike up a conversation, but I was in a learning mood; a reading mood. This is probably because, when I went to poker, I was expecting to lose all my money. Instead, I ended up tripling my money by winning a small tournament.


What I’m trying to say is that I ended up taking a girl home. Now, before you start saying, “Hubba-hubba” or doing the audience “Oooo” when people kissed on a ‘90s sitcom, just know that we didn’t go there. I thought about it, I probably would if the opportunity presents itself to us again, but like I said, I didn’t feel like participating in my life at the time.

She was a beautiful Jewish woman with black hair and green eyes. I’ll call her Asher. Asher came up to me, sat next to me and started talking. Asher was about my height and had dreadlocks and was about 25 years old. The problem was that she was pretty strung out on drugs or drunk or something. Maybe both; maybe everything. She was struggling to hold on to coherent thoughts and talking was a challenge for her, but I was patient, letting her try to speak.

Asher’s mind was filled with regret over a friendship she ended last summer. She was struggling to reconnect with her childhood friend, despite having had a huge fight at the beach. They haven’t talked since, but she felt ready to reach out again. Tragically, her friend was also her dealer and her dealer had descended into a dark path which she was unwilling to follow. Her friend was also sort of trying to convert her into being a Christian.

I could tell that Asher just needed someone to listen. Being a friend of drunks, I realize that they tend to repeat themselves once they are near memory blackout. This was how it was for Asher, but her words and thoughts were like scattered puzzle pieces and I had to deduce the picture from what was revealed. I have to admit, I enjoyed working on the puzzle. She was very pretty and I wanted to help.

While at the bar, several other guys noticed her and one or two of them really started to creep and leer on her pretty hard. One guy pretended to be her boyfriend. He wanted to know what my business was and I told the truth, “My roommates have their girlfriends over and I see no need to be at the house while that is going on.” He stopped being defensive after that and went away.

1:15 rolled around and AlcoDroid warned me not to have another drink. I told Asher that I was going to go home, but then the bombshell was dropped, “Can you take me with you?” I could not refuse.

Crossing the threshold of my house with Asher, I felt as if I had brought a stray dog home with me from school and I was waiting for my mother to take it to the pound. But instead of a stray dog, this was a human being; a human stray. But she was cute and I liked having her around, despite the fact that she was keeping one of my roommates awake. We went downstairs to piece together a conversation. Asher seemed to really like me. I must’ve looked really appealing with those drugs she was on. We had a few more beers and around 4:30, I set her up with a blanket on the couch. I also left the door of my room open in case she needed me, but she didn’t.

My roommate had to work at 10am. Asher and I were both awake by 8:30. I invited her out to breakfast, but she wanted to shower. Unfortunately, her shower went long. Like, an hour long, and my roommate was pretty pissed. He had to go to work without cleaning up. Later, I apologized and did his share of the housework to make up for it.

That morning, Asher seemed to still be under the influence of drugs. Under her breath she would say things like, “Wow” and “Jesus.” She was confused, but also had a lot of love in her heart. She confessed that she was tired of being on drugs and wanted to be sober again. She asked if I could be her sober sponsor and I said that I would. She would be going into treatment.

I took Asher to stay with her aunt. She had a couple of bags of stuff with her. We never had breakfast, but we did stop for coffee at a coffee shop in St. Paul. Her aunt lives in St. Paul and I got lost. A good part of my morning was spent following the driving directions of a person high on drugs, which sounds pretty glamourous after having typed it all out here.


Okay. I’ve written it out – my experience with a stray human. Somehow, I’m reminded of a quote from Edward of Cowboy Bebop, “If you see a mysterious stranger, follow him!”


*In Other News* – My grandfather also has a thing for drug addicts. He married one as his second wife and it still angers my father to this day.

As Fast As You Can

It’s election time in Fairyland. Normally everyone would gleefully cast their ballot for the incumbent, President Grandfather, but President Grandfather wanted to return to civilian life to live happily ever after. This left a race open to any of the magical residents of Fairyland.

I know you’re asking, “How important is the race in Fairyland?” and I agree that it is a fair question. Fairyland is not generally known for its representative government, generally being a place of make believe and a land of many tales. However, there is a fair amount of mischief that goes on here and someone has to help maintain the happily-ever-afters. The candy cane lanes sometimes need replacement candy canes, graham cracker roads get potholes and need marshmallow/chocolate filling until the roads are replaced. All of the basic services magical creatures need to live a happy existence need to be supplied. The office of the President has been instrumental to Fairyland, both home and abroad. Fairyland’s President is also a figurehead that encapsulates the ideals of the magical creatures. As you can see, the Presidency is very important.

Fairyland had a very robust primary season. There were crows and tortoises, hares and pigs. Surprisingly, not many children were interested in running for President. They preferred to run around and play. Voting in the primary was too much like homework for them.

The Fairyland candidates gave speeches and canvassed the local neighborhoods to garner votes. There were even a series of debates. After several weeks, a leader began to emerge – the Fox. The Fox was handsome, sauve, and very intelligent. The Fox was also very charismatic. Unlike the other candidates, such as the policy wonk tortoise or the impatient and hyper hare, the Fox was able to tap the emotions of the crowd and build consensus. By the end of the primary season, the Fox reached the point that all the creatures generally agreed that the Fox was probably right most of the time.



Meanwhile, First Lady Grandmother, spent a lot of time in the kitchen baking the best successor to President Grandfather. After years of practice, Grandmother had perfected her Gingerbread Man. Out of the hot oven came a very handsome Gingerbread Man. Grandmother added thick, black frosting for hair, a frosting tuxedo with spice drop buttons and a strawberry glaze tie. The Gingerbread Man stood up from his cookie sheet, adjusted his glaze tie, and full of confidence, shook Grandma’s hand. She fell instantly in love with him. Certainly, all the magical creatures would elect the Gingerbread Man!

The Gingerbread Man attended one Fox’s rallies and was dismayed by what he heard. The Fox was a savvy politician, but he was also corrupt, exchanging promises with chocolate gold coins and gum drops. Not only that, the Fox’s ideas were old fashioned and out of date. Residents of Fairyland needed a more progressive vision. At the end of the Fox’s rally, the Gingerbread Man shook the hands of the magical creatures and invited them back to the peppermint bandstand the next day.

That night, the Gingerbread Man thought long and hard about his message, “Run, run, as fast as you can.” In the dark corners of his mind he continued, “You can’t catch me, I’m the Gingerbread Man.” The Gingerbread Man pondered late into the night until his message struck him like a bolt out of the blue.

The next day, with many of the Fairyland creatures attending, he unveiled his political platform – Fairyland had to modernize! Fairyland was still relying on cobblers for shoes and spinsters for thread and clothes. Fairyland needed factories. Fairyland needed jobs. Good, solid, well-paying middle-class factory jobs.

The Gingerbread Man began his speech, “Mr. Rabbit, aren’t you tired of waiting 3 weeks for a new pair of shoes? And Ms. Muffet, how old is your tuffet? Why I’m sure after we build a factory, you could enjoy fresh milk instead of that stale old curds and whey!

“Happily ever after shouldn’t mean waiting forever! We deserve our products ‘as fast as you can.’ When do we want it?”

“As fast as you can!” the crowd responded.



Meanwhile, the Fox was disturbed by this young (and delicious looking) upstart that was taking away his votes and endorsements. All of the faster animals, the rabbit, the sparrow and the cheetah all endorsed the Gingerbread Man. The crafty Fox wanted to settle this campaign behind closed doors, but the Gingerbread Man refused to meet him in private. They would have to duke it out in public on the campaign stump.

This was proving to be a very stressful and divisive election for the magical creatures of Fairyland. Both candidates made whistle-stop tours on the buttercup railroad. The Gingerbread Man’s sparrows would drop leaflets all around Fairyland while the Fox’s woodpeckers would knock on all the doors. After all of this effort, it was decided that the Gingerbread Man and the Fox should have a debate to settle their differences.

The debate was scheduled on a hot day. The Gingerbread Man spent his time in the comforts of Grandmother’s refrigerator whereas the Fox was busy running around on all fours, trying to gather more votes. When the debate took place that night, the Gingerbread Man was cool, collected, and as charismatic as ever. Whereas the poor Fox was sweating from a hard day’s work and appeared nervous.

Many of the magical creatures in the audience wore t-shirts and hats with the slogan, “As Fast As You Can” as an example of what a factory could deliver to Fairyland. The Fox said, “I see my opponent has given you a lot of hats and t-shirts, but what he isn’t telling you is that these are from foreign lands, like China and Vietnam, where they use children to make the clothes!”

The Gingerbread Man scoffed, “Please. My opponent is desperate to scare you into voting for him. I mean, just look at him, sweating and panting. And think! What if we could make our own goods instead of relying on foreign lands? We deserve good, solid, well-paying middle class jobs. When do we want them?”

“As fast as you can!” the crowd replied.


Things were looking grim for the Fox after that debate. The Gingerbread Man’s slogan was too powerful. Furthermore, more bad news arrived for the Fox in the form of an “October Surprise.” In one the Fox’s speeches, he made the mistake of making a campaign promise to “bring the pork back to Fairyland.” This upset the 3 Little Pigs, who went on a popular talk show and shared a traumatic experience between themselves and an abusive wolf who regularly blew down their house.

Wasting no time, the Gingerbread Man spread pictures of the wolf across Fairyland, drawing a connection between the Fox and the Wolf. Little Red Riding Hood also came forward to reveal that another wolf had eaten her grandmother and threatened to do the same to her. The Gingerbread Man promised that, if elected, he would appoint a special prosecutor to look into the Fox and the Wolf and to bring them to justice.


The campaign dragged on and on, revealing the worst of the Fairyland creatures. Alas, it was the weekend before election day and both the Fox and the Gingerbread Man were running neck and neck. Both candidates had to cross the Caramel River to campaign in Bayou Swamp, whose 3 electoral votes could mean the difference between a President Fox or a President Gingerbread Man. Unfortunately, the boat and ferry men were on strike and picketing for higher wages, riled up by the Gingerbread Man’s message of “As Fast As You Can.”

The Gingerbread Man dipped a toe in the river and some of his breadcrumbs fell off and floated away. “Ouch!” he said. Meanwhile, the Fox took a few steps into the Caramel River and was about to wade across when the desperate Gingerbread Man said, “Stop!”

The Fox turned around and asked, “Why? Bayou Swamp’s electoral votes are mine.”

“I’ll make a deal,” the Gingerbread Man said, “just let me ride on your back and I’ll make you an Ambassador.”

The Fox thought it over and agreed. “Climb on,” he said.

They began to cross, but the river water started getting higher and higher. A few splashes lapped perilously close to the Gingerbread Man. One such splash knocked off one of his spice drop buttons. “Let me climb up on your head, Fox. Please! The water will wash me away.”

“Of course,” the Fox said with a sardonic smile.

As they approached the shore, the fox began to feel the ground, but faked swimming like he was still up to his neck in water. And then, right on the shoreline of Bayou Swamp, the Fox leapt in the air and ate the Gingerbread Man in one big gulp. The Gingerbread Man was a little stale, but still tasty.

Now, completely free of any political opponents, the Fox swam back across the river and held a press conference. Tragedy had befallen the beloved Gingerbread Man in the Caramel River. It was with a heavy heart that he had to report the loss. He had done everything in his power to save his opponent, but the current was too strong.


On election day, the Fox won in a historic landslide in Fairyland. He even gloated about the “mandate” he had received from the magical creatures and that he had “tremendous political capital which he intended to spend.” Fairland continues to heal from this divisive election one day at a time. The candy cane lanes are still getting replacement candy canes, and the graham cracker road potholes are still getting marshmallow/chocolate filling.  Gradually, everyone is returning to live happily ever after.

I can’t say what will happen in the next four years, or if Fairyland will ever have an election quite as contentious as this, but I can say that Former President Grandfather is enjoying a happy retirement and that his wife, Former First Lady Grandmother, continues her baking every day. She even bakes a Gingerbread Man from time to time.