Friday, July 15, 2011

No Thanks, E.T.

     Funny, I don't think of myself as a guy steeped in vanity, but a dream I had a couple of nights ago has me questioning how well I know myself.
     I was day hiking in the Trinity Alps when I came across a spaceship. A little purple man--not green, purple--invited me inside. He cut right to the chase.
     "We have a mission for you."
     "Me?"
     "Yes, you."
     Hm.
     "We have devised a verbal campaign to save earthlings from destroying themselves and their planet, and we have chosen you to deliver our messages."
     "Well, okay. But, y'know, I have a family, and I have a job." Maybe my family and my job didn't mean anything to those little purple bastards, but they would know in no uncertain terms that they were important to me.
     "You would deliver our messages over the internet. All we ask is one hour per week."
     "That sounds workable," I said. "Anything else about this assignment I should know?"
     They looked at each other. I knew those little purple bastards were hiding something.
     "Well, your messages will be in video form. Since image is important to earth people, we propose to modify your appearance somewhat."
     "How so?"
     "We wish to restore the dormant hair follicles on your cranium. You will no longer be in the throes of male pattern baldness."
     "Cool," I said.
     "And, you must grow your hair long, and wear it in dreadlocks. You should never be heard listening to any music save that of Bob Marley, and you should be seen eating quinoa with every meal."
     "Dreadlocks?"
     "Yes, dreadlocks."
     "Will my hair still be gray?"
     "Yes. The gray will lend credibility."
     I weighed the pros and cons of their offer for a few moments. "So really, just an hour per week?"
     "Yes. One hour per week."
     "Okay. Sign me up."
     Rhonda was able to stay home the next morning. I told her and Dylan about the dream.
     "DREADLOCKS?" they asked in unison. Family stereo.
     "Yep, dreadlocks. I'd be one stylin' middle aged dude."
     "Dad?"
     "Yeah, Dyl?"
     "If that ever happens for real, and they say you have to wear dreadlocks, please turn them down."
     "That kind of stings your old man, Dyl."
     "Dad, the truth hurts. You should never be seen in public wearing dreadlocks."
     Just wait until Halloween. 

6 comments:

quid said...

I'm kinda passing on the dreadlocks, too, Hal. A conversation starter...but, no.

quid

Kelly said...

I'm not much on dreadlocks, either. Ask if you can substitute braids.

Mary O. Paddock said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Mary O. Paddock said...

Hal, it's obvious that you and I and my husband went to the same school of parenting.

Personally, I think dreadlocks would be a wonderful idea--especially if you can grow them out really long by the time the time he brings home his first girlfriend.

Debby said...

Now I'm kind of excited for Halloween too!

Debby said...

Psst. Hal? You awake? August is almost done. You need to do a new post. Maybe about Jojo.