Warm Fuzzy

...I once knew a girl with a funky doo-wop/Spent all her money just to look like a mop.....

The wave of warmth in Red Emma's hits me like a hug as I step down and in. I sip a two-handed soup-mug full of Molotov, listening to reggae/trance/latin hip-hop. The scent of freshly toasted bagels surrounds me.

Tonight brings me home to the Chesapeake Arts Center and many close friends for the Hack and Slash Christmas Special, featuring my beloved Broon, and my long-lost pal Clark, owner and operator of both Ded Bob and his dummy, Smudge.

"I used to have such a crush on Cybele. Last I saw her, she was running with some guy named Wolf, or something."

"Right, Hawk, and she married him, and they made those." That Girl points to the two well-scrubbed, well-behaved, somewhat bored, pajama-clad urchins on the stage.

"Your kids are so adorable. Makes you want to run up and hit 'em with a stick." An expression of true admiration from Jim Greene, the Ratman. Chris Davis the Renaissance Man will be here tonight, the Pyrates, Michael Rosman,and Steve and Stephon as the Pickled Punks, or, I'm not sure, themselves. The Zucchini Brothers are here. I'd forgotten how funny they were.

Don't bother showing up tonight. I'm wearing not a beret, but my black satin pajamas. And there are no tickets left.

Not entirely because of my pajamas, either.

(Yo Mama's A Pajama; Spin Doctors)