I thought her text was a generous and perceptive compliment given that my life feels a lot more meaningful now.
I sat back in my morning chair where I was having breakfast and folded my arms thinking how nice she was to call me "mellow".
Of course I could see my adversarial friend, the Guru, thumbing his nose and blowing caustic smoke in my direction. So, I hit my newly-installed personal virus protection button and sent the b*tch packing.
Then I picked up my nice new cell phone and sent the beautiful one a kind reply saying that no-one has ever called me "mellow", ever.
I put the cell down. Sighed out the calmness that is now me and thought it was gonna be a wonderful day.
The kind of day where stuff just fits. When your fists are unclenched and the paragraphs flow easily from your fingers across the keyboard.
The kind of day when love and butterflies float your magic carpet.
I poured another slow cup of coffee and contemplated a nice long run in the late afternoon. You know, the kind of run where you stay inside your fitness level because you like how feeling close to tired is sometimes more meaningful than coughing up a lung.
As I settled to taste the nectar of the gods, my cell offered a gentle beep that suggested the beautiful one may want to add a sentence, or perhaps two, to emphasize my balanced "mellow".
I opened the screen to let the revealing light flow towards my eyes and there it was, her ego sapping and ass-kicking response:
"Lol. Not a good thing. Mellow is a step away from comatose."Huh?
Did the sista just retract the compliment? Am I doomed to just about get there all the time only to be turned around?
Or, was I just needy and buying into the delusional calmness some say I have embraced on my return pilgrimage to hell by the hole?
I did not put up too much of a fight to reclaim my "mellow" me delusion. She is right. That damn sanctimonious Guru dude who has more money than the gods is right too.
The Manhattans used to say "there is no me without you" and I guess there is no me without being pissed off and grumpy.
I mentioned to the beautiful one that her comment reminded me of a Tears for Fears song in more than one way. She did not respond but I felt her rolling eyes walk over my aging consciousness.
Now I know some of you who know me 'long time' think I think there is a Tears for Fears song for just about everything and you are right.
I like their self-absorbed meaningless post-modern white-boy drivel. It defines my vacuous American youth.
Oh did I tell you they touring and making big cash in South America as I write? OK I know you don't care but humus a brother.
The song, "Call me Mellow", is on their last album entitled "Everyone Loves a Happy Ending".
I have spent many years thinking about the lyrics because it speaks to the dread of running out of being cool.
Boet I was cool once upon a time. Around the time that other dude lit a dubie and walked across the lake in a flannel robe.
The dude, by the way, was my boy Mark and the lake in north Canada was frozen. And you were thinking blasphemy!
OK OK ... the dudes in the band are about my age and the lyrics are about being taken by a much younger woman calling a middle-aged man "mellow".
They obviously took it as a compliment. Maybe I should just forward the deconstruction text from the beautiful one, no?
OK this video is live from the Conan O'Brien show in the US.
If only I was half my age and she was older
We'd live on ice-cream on Coney Island
And though it's gravity that drags down my balloon
She stays in orbit way after midnight
Woah slip and slide
Does she go all dewey-eyed?
But then she knows it's like a curse
To find our chosen roles reversed
To unify my universe
To call me mellow
Middle-age sucks big time. Especially when half the sh*t I want to do still lays way out there.
No time for being "mellow", huh Guru?
Ps. An angry man is a creative man. Ask the soul sapping Guru - he knows first hand.