Where Am I

I looked up from my malfunctioning GPS just as Frampton handed me a bunch of succulent red grapes, then he turned and winked at Pablo who picked up his blue guitar, and started painting the walls a deep egg shell.

“Do you know where I am” I asked in a voice that was not mine. Underneath the drop cloth Katie Couric’s voice exclaimed “does anyone really know where they are”?

I shrugged and continued walking while shaking the damn GPS.

Next door the Good Humor Man doled out frozen hash pops to the local sheriff and his deputies while their wive’s tried a new mud and jalapeno facial from the local taco stand. I smiled at the stands owner, a Norwegian super model who leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Lima beans are the new chocolate.”

I shrugged and continued walking, still shaking the damn GPS

A couple doors down I noticed both Meryl Streep and her organic apple cart were upset that Elliot Spitzer was selling Iced Kissed Gourds from Greenland, guaranteed to heat up your frigid bride. Before I could ask where I was she turned away, then abruptly smacked Spitzer, causing him to float away like an deflating balloon.

Again I shrugged, continued walking and yes, shook the damn GPS.

The neighborhood had taken on the air of a cosmic circus traveling from planet to planet powered by surplus Chia Pets and the unused glitter from Wayne Newtons last New Years Eve party.

I was sure the Aliens would not understand English but I asked anyways. “Do you know where I am?” In a deep voice James Earl Jones surely would have loved, one of them replied. “Why of course, you are everywhere grasshopper,” then he turned and the group of undocumented space travelers laughed riotously each slapping the others shoulder.

I shrugged and continued walking, not bothering to shake anything.

I was determined to find a normal person when I noticed an old lady working in the garden. I was relieved to see it was Aunt Bea and I knew she’d help me but just as I reached her she turned, in her hands was a riding crop, it was then I noticed David Bowie covered in welts blissfully lying in poison ivy, Bea smiled and motioned for me to join them.

This time I gagged and then shrugged while continuing to walk, no urge to shake.

In this age of wanting everything and needing little I wondered, why is it so hard to find out who you are and where your going. To my surprise Grace Slick jumped out from behind the poison ivy bushes where she had secretly been videoing the S&M scene, and cried out in her aged 60’s voice “in your head baby I’m afraid you don’t know where it is, don’t you want somebody to love, don’t you need somebody to love, wouldn’t you love somebody to love, you’d better find somebody to love.”

Grace reached out in a decidedly Joplin-esque manner, touched her finger to my malfunctioning GPS and disappeared.

I shrugged once more, pondering her words, then staring in wonder at my now functioning GPS I continued walking. The only thing left to shake was the dust off my shoes from this crazy neighborhood.

Don’t you want somebody to love, don’t you need somebody to love, wouldn’t you love somebody to love, you’d better find somebody to love.” Indeed.

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