Spoonman's Dream

Welcome to fictional life. I am Spoonman.

Believe it or don't. And you, porcupine feathers on a goose down brick, you eyeball pup tents on pineapple suction toast, you shake and bake flystrips on a Connie Chung dogleash, who are you?

Look around. One thing is certain, Everybody here was once baby. Everybody here began as burning desire that rocked loins of dear old mum and dad, Everybody here was once soft little turtle muffin that slipped its way into life and began to crawl, to get the hell away from fleshy cage that was mom and dad. And maybe you get pretty far, but then one day burning desire comes to call and pretty soon loins are rocking, joint is jumping, doors are flying open. and suddenly new little turtle muffin, or two or three or who knows how many little turtle muffins slip out and begin to crawl, to get the hell away from dear old mum and dad, except this time you are mum and you are dad. Oh, irony of ironies.

So it is that quick hare-brain thinks it can somehow escape slow crawl of turtle muffin advance. For short time perhaps, but in the end, turtle muffin always wins. Spoonman knows this because he is father to Teaspoon.

I was born in the Ural Mountains, on border between Europe and Asia. My mother was of Finno-Tartar people, sometimes called "Yak People". Not too many left. Beautiful place, Ural Mountains, but the winters are long, and snow does not melt until June. We survive long winter by eating goat cheese we make in summer months. When old grandfathers would die, we would scoop out their insides and use them for bobsled. Much fun we had. It was in those long nights of darkness, that dream of COBRA LOUNGE first visited young Spoonman.
COBRA WOMAN: "So how do you be domestic and honest at the same time? I don't know. How do you keep from feeling vengeful when 600 pounds of push and shove tries to stomp you into the dirt? Someone has to DO something. Sometimes, I just do. It hasn't made for a happy home life. I've buried ten husbands. Unlucky in love, I guess. Sometimes, I get sad about that. They were each great though. Special in their own way. I'm a sucker for talent. You got talent? Good. Sex appeal? You hold onto it. You enjoy what you have and maybe tonight, if spirit is willing, you will shed some skin, and dance with the Cobra."
"Some people live by chance. Spoonman lives by choice. He knows there are no answers, but still he asks questions. It takes some courage and some thick-headedness to keep asking questions when you know all answers are approximate. Point is to experience what you can, as specifically as possible. There will be time later for iced tea and recollections. For now, taste it all; climb tall trees, smell the air, walk the Earth like extinct but proud beast, find trusty tool of choice and brandish it whenever welcoming or waving goodbye to all things passing by on burning river of dreams."

Spoonman speaks!

Spoon Call
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