you are sleeping. you do not want to believe.

I'll break from my usual epistle to bring you this strange little scene:

(adult d picks up a magic phone that enables one to communicate with oneself in the past. she dials 13 year old d who picks up the phone immediately because she hates to hear it ring & besides, mtv sucks. there will be no space/time repercussions because of this phone call. this isn't bradbury, this is rock 'n' roll.)

d-now: hey.

d-then: hi.

d-now: what are you listening to?

d-then: is this, like, your version of an obscene phone call?

(both ds laugh, then stop because a) identical laughter sounds creepy & b) while d has been known to laugh at her own jokes, this seems a bit much, even by her standards)

d-now: seriously. whatchu listenin' to?

d-then: well...I just bought power corruption & lies at second coming. I know it's not hit city but I really like the cover. it's beautiful.

d-now: oh cool, you're gonna like that one but it'll take a few listens.
so..eh, I'm calling 'cause I have something to tell you & I want you to hear it from me first.

d-then: hear it from you? what the fuck...did someone kill robert smith?

d-now: no. he's cool. & weirdly, still looks pretty much the same.

d-then: elvis?

d-now: no. elvis is safe. well...relatively. he's made a lot of really pretentious albums with orchestras & burt bacharach & now he's married to a grammy winning jazz chanteuse named diana krall.

d-then: does he suck completely?

d-now: not quite. he's older & stuffier. anger's not the driving force anymore but there's still the occasional gem. by the way, when you go see him with anastasia in '02, make sure you bring handywipes.

d-then: eh...okay, weirdo. well? what? should I be sitting down?

d-now: okay...

(silence)

d-then: yes, miss dramatic pause?

d-now: morrissey. he has a new album. it's called ringleader of the tormentors. eh...he's having sex & singing about it. with men.

(long silence...finally)

d-then: WHAT????

d-now: it's true.

d-then: SHUT UP. no. I don't believe you. really?

d-now: hell yeah. here's a lyrical quote from the song dear god, please help me: "and now I'm spreading your legs, with mine in between"

d-then: oh. my. god. that's GROSS!

d-now: why? 'cause it's dudes? I don't recall you being a homophobe. all your friends are gay!

d-then: no, stupid. it's...because...I don't know...moz... he's not supposed to like anybody. nobody's supposed to like him. like me.

(the last fragment is whispered. there's silence on both ends.)

what does johnny say?

d-now: nothing as of yet. he wouldn't really. they never reunited. & they all hate mike joyce. long story. it's like this trial thing, too boring to get into. dickensian chancery baby. all the way.

d-then: well...that's too bad. are the songs okay? or is it...I don't know. embarassing?

d-now: no. the songs are really great. he's working with tony visconti & that was inspired 'cause after his work with ronson, I didn't think he'd be good again. he gets way too into the baroque & loses touch with how in order for his work to be effective the music needs to be just as biting as the lyrics.

d-then: ronson?

d-now: keep reading those import mags. you'll learn.

d-then: ugh. condescending!

d-now: I'm not! I'm only this way with you.

d-then: thanks. can I tell mane?

d-now: eh NO. she'll think you've lost it & she won't believe you anyway.

(silence)

seriously though. I'm happy for him. I'm glad he's getting a piece. & he's writing about it like someone who has just discovered greenland. & that's beautiful. there's this real sense of passion & awakening & he seems re-invigorated. he has this great song called you have killed me where he compares himself to pasolini--

d-then: who's that? a writer?

d-now: nah. he's this italian director from the '60's. you're gonna be confused & turned off by salo but you're gonna love his mamma roma. anna magnani's in that one. she's a dark eyed goddess. you'll relate to her messiness & her natural frown.

d-then: so morrissey's directing neo-realist italian films or he just thinks he wants to?

d-now: no. he moves to italy. from los angeles! I know...weird huh? like he must burn not tan...oh & all these american/latino kids are all about him & he's so inspired by it that he named a live concert video oye esteban! & writes songs about mexican gangbangers named hector. but that was the last album not this one. now it's all about roma.

d-then: GET OUT!

(general laughter)

that's so crazy about the latino following! but not...unexpected. he does have the florid over-dramatic thing familiar to latins worldwide. how are they with the whole man-love thing?

d-now: I don't know yet...so far everything I've read is more about the fact that he's getting it on rather than who he's getting it on with...I swear, it's hilarious that all these music writers treat him like he's the pope or something 'cause you know that a lot of them got into music because of him & now they have to bow down at the altar of stephen patrick.

d-then: gangbangers?

d-now: well, that's where the whole pasolini thing comes in. pier paolo pasolini was totally attracted to the super macho violent element but remained outside of it by virtue of his class. & you know about moz & his fascination with the krays explored in the last of the famous international playboys, the moors murderers in suffer little children, etc... pasolini was eventually murdered by blackmailing male hustlers. or something. some people think it was a government hit. it's all rather murky. anyway, there's another good one on the album called I will see you in far off places that has a distinct paul bowles lost in tangiers sorta feel with this cod middle eastern back-up. nothing in the lyrics, it's all in the melody. very "euro awakened to themselves by the allure of the foreign" which is a kinda colonialist, kinda gross, kinda racist but he gets away with it sorta, 'cause he's the one playing the fool in this VERY cliched scenario. death in venice with exotic rent boys. dig?

d-then: wow. yeah, I guess I can see that.

(silence)

so am I a lesbian?

d-now: (laughing) much to your chagrin, you are not. you like the boys. & you really like guitarists. it's kinda funny.

d-then: ooooh...do I have a musician boyfriend? SCORE! am I pretty? am I a writer? or an actress? can I wear lip gloss without looking like I'm drooling?

d-now: ha, ha. I'm not gonna answer that. or anything.

d-then: sadist.

d-now: masochist.

(silence)

d-then: I hate the phone.

d-now: me too. anyway...I hope I didn't freak you out too much. with moz & the sex & stuff.

d-then: well...I guess it had to happen someday.

d: now: ha ha ha ha. that's so much funnier than you know. ok, gotta go. by the way, give the velvet underground another chance. they're SO great. trust me.

d-then: they're scary but ok. alright. thanks.

d-now: & remember your thing for the name jeremy?

d-then: yeah.

d-now: don't forget it.

(d-now hangs up. d-then keeps listening to the dial tone. when the operator voice comes on saying "please dial again...," she puts the phone gingerly back in its cradle. she stares off quietly. her cat, thomalina, enters the room & meows at her.)

d-then: I forgot to ask her about rubber ring.

(she picks up the cat. pets it. end scene.)

- - - - -

album to seek: ringleader of the tormentors/morrissey