Friday, April 18, 2008

Third week delusions


By CHRIS MILLSPAUGH

I had a bird,

Its name was "Enza."

I opened the door

And influenza.

Through muffled sounds, warped images and fading glimpses of light, I heard the high angelic mezzo-soprano voice singing the Lord's Prayer. Well, I finally had gone over to the other side. This was it. At last, peace and freedom from illness and strife. I had arrived.

Then, suddenly, a familiar voice resonated through the reverie praising the dignity of the human persona. The problem was that the voice had a south-central Texas twang reminiscent of... .

Wait a minute! It is Bush talking! The TV is blaring out the news of the White House arrival ceremony for Pope Benedict XVI. I leap out of my bed and land awkwardly on the floor just in time to hear the U.S. Army Chorus perform "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." I gaze at the screen in horror as fellow Americans seated on the White House lawn unite in one voice to sing "Happy Birthday" to the 81-year-old leader of spirituality to the free world. What kind of bizarre world of fantasy have I entered into? Hey, have some more cough medicine, pal, you're doing fine!

Ok, it's time to shake it off. Ignore the Army guys singing "Glory, Glory, Hallelujah." It's just the middle of the week, you've had a bad dream and now you're sprawled out in the middle of the floor of your home recovering from the aftermath of a series of disturbing events. This is nothing! Buck up! Get a grip! It's just a Wednesday morning in the mountains of south-central Idaho and you were experiencing the third week of the wonderful world of influenza. Let's go!

Now, what's happening? Oh, no, it's the Popemobile making its way down Pennsylvania Avenue. It appears to be a bulletproof Plexiglas structure mounted on the bed of a 1994 Chevy Luz pickup. Apparently, he's on the way to have lunch with a cardinal. What in the world do the Pope and Andrew Pujols, St. Louis' slugging first baseman, have to talk about?

Where is the line between reality and fantasy drawn? It's all segmented into each other. I no longer can tell the difference. Does it matter? Now, where's that silly cough medicine. "I had a bird, its name was "Enza." Opened the door and in flew "Enza."

Nice raving with you.




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