And somewhere on the journey, I lost track of my love for Ben and Jerry and picked up a new obsession. It started slowly, but gained more and more ground until I began to huddle in the back of the bus with a syringe. Metaphorically, of course. I wasn't doing heroin. I crouched in the corner with headphones.
"Leave me alone," I'd hiss when they tried to take the cd player away.
Later, this unfinished email was found stashed in my account� I don't remember writing it. Those were trying times.
Hey Greg honey, I know that you don't know me, but these feelings are just too much for me to keep in any longer. I can't stand it. I mean, God, you know how fucking ---mmm---you are, right? How can you not have women throwing themselves at you constantly?
I've been driving with these freaks (they insist on listening to Pantera and Fleetwood Mac) for the last few weeks. We're going to Vermont. I don't remember why. But that's where the red lines on the map are pointing to. But what do you care about Vermont? That's not why I'm writing. I know you're a Midwest kind of guy. Iowa. Yeah, I never liked Iowa until I heard your album Iowa Waltz. That song, about Jimmie Rodgers, that's great. Really great. Will you have sex with me?
I got the other people I'm traveling with to listen to Further In the other day. It was the last time they let me drive. But, I don't mind. Really, we have this van and I can sleep. I like to sleep.
So, I'm not that attractive. And I think you're married now. And have daughters older than me... But I really don't see why that should preclude anything. The last time I saw you play was last october at this little theater in Minnesota. I ran into you afterwards, I'm sure you don't remember. But you were smoking a cigarette and looking real bad-ass leaning against the brick building. I didn't know what to say, so I just smiled and said hi. I'm sort of shy like that. I wanted to ask you so many things. You're first album came out before I was born. I mean, I don't know a world pre-Brown. Really, will you have sex with me?
I try to convince all of my friends just how amazing you are. One compared you to Barry White and one to Elvis. I think you transcend them both.
Now I want you to think about this seriously. I worship you. I haven't built a shrine or anything, but I have plans for one in the future...
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I was later put on a strict regiment of punk music and overcame the obsession. Of course, the lust remains.
(photo shamelessly stolen from www.flemtam.com/gb.html)
