“Trivialities”

My wife was ribbing me the other day about someone’s name I couldn’t remember. It was right there at the tip of my tongue, and, given a month or two, I would have recovered it all on my own. Sadly, now that I’m on the wrong side of 60, these these happen not infrequently. The upside is that as my social circle shrinks, there are fewer names I have to recall. My response in these situations has been to bluster that my mind is as finely-honed as a steel trap. Only lately it feels more like one that’s been rusted through, tangled up in weeds, and covered in dog shit.

We grew up watching “Dark Shadows,” which must have been in syndication in the mid 70’s. It felt so odd to have an afternoon show featuring a vampire and a werewolf, though it was truly awesome and should be brought back. Try to imagine that initial pitch-meeting! Though, in hindsight, it moved along at a snail’s pace. But I have such vivid memories of that mausoleum and of that eerie opening/closing theme (deliciously sampled by King Geedorah/MF Doom on “The Final Hour”). And of the creepy parlor that would go from dark and cobwebbed to a brightly colored venue for waltzing in a sudden time warp. But when you’re a vampire, you have literally centuries (not “literally” in the bullshit newer meaning that somehow perversely denotes figuratively) of memories to keep alive, and maybe that’s how portraits first became popular. In thinking about the lessons learned from the show (other than keeping boom-mics out of the shot), the one that stands out is to never, ever unlock a chained coffin. That always, always, always ends badly. Words to live (and, literally, not die) by.

If you’ve never seen the episode of “Conan” with him, Kevin Hart and Ice Cube in a car and “coaching” a student driver, it’s absolutely and unconditionally hilarious (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Za8BtLgKv8). That was the first time I had ever heard the human rectum described as a “prison wallet,” and I almost died laughing. A term that cannot help but invite much in the way of unwanted imagery. But it also got me thinking that you could invent a plastic device to house important goods and documents (alternative name = “The Midnight Express”), built to hygienically withstand the harsh feculent environment. And the ad campaign, done in conjunction with Capital One, of course, would end with the tag line, “What’s in your prison wallet?” God, I sure hope that shit is never not funny to me…