Hey, wassup dudes? I was sitting here in our computer lab here at the site and totally minding my own business when the phone rang.

Jason: Hello?

Sharon: Why do you treat me this way?

Jason: What way?

Sharon: When you get some cash, you spend it all on what’s-her-name. You are absolutely the most clueless guy I have ever met. I think your brains have all leaked out into your dreadlocks.

Jason: Can I borrow some money?

Sharon:...........( I don’t have an icon of a mushroom cloud, so you have to mentally insert one. I will spare my more sensitive readers -all 3 of them- what Sharon said. Besides, we would have to change the site rating if I repeat it.)

 After she hung up, I started to get this feeling of impending doom, like a really slow turtle gets when they cross a highway. Like a pet rat that got stuck into a box of kittens. Like BP executives facing a senate investigation.

 So I thought maybe I should go check out the park, so I wouldn’t be present in case Sharon talked some of her friends into doing a drive-by or blowing up the building. Mary was the only one left in the offices besides me, and I really didn’t want to tell her what was going on, because she was still mad at me over getting stuck in Vegas. I figured I better use tact. Cool word, huh?

Jason: Hey Mary, wanna go to the park and play hackie sack with me?

Mary: I wouldn’t hackie with you if you were the last hippie on earth.

Jason: C’mon, Mary! We’ll kick it old school and Frisbee!

Mary: Frisbees are for dogs, Jason. Or older hippies than you. What’s up?

 When I heard those last two dreaded words, I knew the jig was up. I am not smart enough to be a good liar, I know because I have tried and always get caught. So I gave her my puppy dog face.

Mary: Stop giving me your puppy dog face.

 Damn. She was onto me really bad now, it was time for desperate last tactics, the time honored tradition of offering booze. A little while later at the bar....

Mary: Noobody undjurstands me, Jason.

Jason: What are you talking about? You have several guys that would do anything for you.

Mary: But, you jush’t don’t sheee. I mean, noobody really, really, really, reeeeaally undershtands me. You knowsh what I mean? Whast the matter with me, Jason? Am I too skinneee? Are my booobs too little? Checksh em out!

Jason: People are looking, Mary, you gotta put your blouse back on. Oh...... hi, Becky.

Becky: Why are you getting Mary drunk? You know how she gets. I turn my back on you for 5 minutes and look what happens.

Mary: Beckeeeeeeeeee!!!

Becky: Well, don’t just stand there, get her other arm. Now, don’t drop her.

 It was just getting dark outside on Haight Street, and crowded with riff and raff and tourists. Nobody gave us a second look as we toted our drunken editor back to the office. We put her on the couch, and I left Becky there with her and went looking for somebody to tell my troubles to.

Haight Street used to be cool back in the day. Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, they were all here at one time, man. They drifted through this world and left just a little bit of their karma here like any powerful person does. There’s a mural I like with Jim and Janice, and no matter who buys that big purple gothic house, it will always belong to Jimi. It’s like it’s waiting for him to come home and play his guitar again.

 I found Utah and we went to the park with a couple of 40’s. We sat on a bench under some really big bushes and watched a few kids doing a drum circle. I asked how come it seemed like all the cool people go out of our lives so fast. “Kid”, Utah said, “Cool people are like the breeze in the morning. They circulate, they touch lives and they move on. Uncool people are like a greasy taco fart. They annoy, they linger and hang around forever. Be a breeze and not a fart.”

 As I watched the cops harassing the drum circle, I thought about what he said. I got really excited about all the new possibilities available to me, and went back to the office to tell Becky about it.

Jason: Hey, Becky! Utah said I should be a breeze!

Becky: What?

Jason: There was more but I forgot what it was. Something about not farting. Or greasy tacos. Are you hungry?

Becky: Maybe he said tacos would make you fart. C’mon, Jason. Think. It must have been something cool. You looked really excited when you came in.

 So, I thought harder than I had ever thought before. I thought so hard I warped the very fabric of reality itself and out somewhere on the fringe of the Milky Way, a new black hole opened. Jackie Gleason and Art Carney toked a bong that was three feet long. Lassie ate Alvin and the Chipmunks, and Gargamel ate the Smurfs. Peanuts and Family Circus finally got canceled. I spiraled out of the cosmos and back, threading a line between nonsense and perfect sense. And suddenly, I had it. THE ANSWER. Just like Douglas Adams. The answer to life, the universe and everything, and it wasn’t 42. No, this was the real deal ANSWER, and I started thinking about all the cash I would make, and how I finally could afford one of those jet skateboards like on Back to the Future II.

A few minutes later, I forgot what it was.

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