Here and Now, There and Then

Johnny's feeling introspective:


I imagine sometimes that I'm young and I can see into the future through my rear view mirror. I imagine I'm a New Waver in college, my whole glamorous, fabulous life ahead of me, and I look through and see the me of today, a grizzled greaser with gray in his stubble and gin blossoms in his nose, and no matter what kind of day I'm having, I about piss myself laughing, thinking of the look of horror on his face. I half want to tell him somehow through the glass that it's not as bad as it looks, but really there's nothing I can say. For him, it is. Then I think of the me who first got into professional depression and into driving, great combination, the road ahead a ghastly tear-smeared blur, praying for God, for anyone, to please deliver me, clamping my fingers on the wheel to keep from swerving into oncoming traffic, one loud bang and then peace, staring into the mirror and seeing myself at forty-three, still alive, with a red sportscar and a hot wife and laughing at the world because I get paid to massage dogs, and I wish I could tell the poor bastard that it turns out all right. But he'd never believe it even if he saw it with his own eyes. Somehow he'll have to hang on until he does see it. And by then he knows.

I don't think I've ever felt as optimistic at the start of a new year. I feel like a greyhound who's just retired from the track and gotten placed with a yuppie couple in the suburbs. Yes. I've become my own dogs. And I was spared the embarrassment and odor of dying and being reincarnated.

Happy New Year, princess. I love you.
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He calls me "princess." Wanna make something of it, geek?