Dropping Fiorinal at the Laser Show
(Originally posted on the website Continuum…)
Dear Faithful Reader,
I regret to inform you that last night’s laser show absolutely SUCKED!
Hard to believe that the spoof on economics below holds more promise of reality than my former anticipation of the laser show does. But alas, it is so! At first, I speculated that my preference for economics over rock-n-roll and laser enduced psychedelia was a sure sign that I had indeed crossed that line and had become officially OLD. They say that the memory is the first thing to go. But no! It is the COOLNESS that one loses! Long before a man forgets where he placed his keys when they are still in his hand or loses control over his bowels, his control over his own coolness slips from his grip. He trades his Mad Magazines in for the Wall Street Journal. No longer does he find his heroes on the cover of Rolling Stone Magazine. Instead, his icons and gurus cast their spell over his feeble mind from the cover of Fortune Magazine.
However, upon further inspection I was relieved of the notion of having achieved oldness. Even my fifteen-year-old son concurred with the suckiness of the show. And my cousin was almost out of control due to the laser assault. Yes! I think she was ready to vomit from the motion of the stars and laser designs flying across the ceiling, not to mention the corniness of the announcer during the show. She taunted me to get up front and do the moonwalk. She raised her arms and sang “coo-coo-ca-choo” along with the Beatles. She clapped out of rhythm with the Beach Boys, messing up the entire audience, all 14 of us.
Okay. In fairness, I admit that the moonwalk idea was my own. I had my arms up too. Yes, I did the out-of-synch “Little Deuce Coop” clap too. But I had an excuse. I was under the influence of fiorinal, my migraine medicine. Yes, I was “Comfortably Numb,” waiting for the Pink Floyd show. Even without the lasers the room was spinning for me.
In days long ago, people used to drop acid or smoke pot when they listened to Pink Floyd. And now… Perhaps the issue in all of this is that I have crossed that line and am now old. I dropped migraine medicine in order to listen to Floyd! Fiorinal. Truth be told, fiorinal is just a “turbo” caffiene pill. It’s loaded with caffiene and just wires me out when I have to use it. “Fiorinal.” Sounds quite poetically related to “urinal.” I think it is an intentional relation because when you have a migraine you really don’t feel well enough to care if you’re pissed on, pissed off or just plain pissed.
The only thing worse than a migraine is a migraine accompanied by a Raritan Valley laser show.
Now back to the psychodelia of finishing my economics paper…
Posted at 12:45 PM (EST)