Well, I hope that someday buddy, we have peace in our lives, together or apart, alone, or with our wives

Christmas fast approaches. Are you ready, those of you who partake? Have you bought and wrapped all of the gifts you'll be handing out? Are you counting down the days to Saturday with ease and comfort, satisfied the grunt work is behind you and all you need focus on are the good times you hope you'll have? As for me, procrastination is in my blood as much as anything else. I expect I'll be shopping right up until Christmas. Maybe not, though. There are still a few days left and it's conceivable I might overachieve and have all my shopping done with a couple of days to spare. We'll see.
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Years ago, I worked at a tool wholesaler warehouse in Lowell in a dilapidated building. This place occupied the lower depths of existence. I stayed there too long, but I came out the other end of my experience there with some pretty good stories. Almost every person I worked with was memorable, for better or worse. The job was shitty overall, but the host of characters I was exposed to made it worth it. As time goes by, with my work experience having become more ordered and civilized, I look back upon those days more fondly than I ever thought I would.

Here's one story among many. It will give you an indication of what I was dealing with at this job. One day, my boss Thom came over to me and told me John, my coworker, wasn't coming in to work. He looked distressed, so I asked him if everything was alright.

"I just got off the phone with John's father. John was in a terrible car accident this morning and is fighting for his life as we speak."

I studied Thom's face. He was a notorious liar and was not above lying about something as awful as this. Still, he looked sincere. I found it hard to believe that he would joke around about something like this. But then again, maybe he would. I asked him if he was joking with me.

"I'm as serious as a heart attack!", he said. "Do you think I'd joke about something like this?"

"I do. Just two weeks ago, you told a sales rep that Nick died in a car accident (Nick was at lunch when the rep came by. I was there when Thom told her, in all seriousness, that Nick crashed into a Hostess truck. Nick was overweight and the joke, as poor as it was, would have been evident if Thom hadn't affected such a grave countenance. The rep, a kind woman in her thirties, had been friendly with Nick and was visibly shaken by the news. I waited for Thom to tell her the truth. He never did. She left, muttering something about wishing she'd known so she could have attended the funeral).

"Oh, I was just fucking around; she knew it was a joke."

"No she didn't."

Thom got in my face and said loudly, "I'm being serious. John's probably not going to make it." His eyes welled up with tears, but I was still uncertain whether he was being truthful. I was about eighty percent sure he was lying. Aside from Thom's incriminating history of pulling morbid pranks, it seemed odd to me that while John was fighting for his life, his father decides he better call his son's boss and let him know what was going on. I questioned Thom about this and he became furious.

"Look, you can believe what you want, but this boy is in bad shape and I'm worried about him. Don't ask me again if I'm lying!"

If Thom was lying, he was certainly putting his all into the ruse. For the next hour or so, I began to believe that Thom had told the truth about John. I was still doubtful, but I had done what I could to get Thom to break and he never budged. I began to worry over my fallen coworker. I thought about the fragility of life.

It was deep in this reverie when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw John appear. My feelings were conflicted. On the one hand, I felt great relief that my friend was in good health and on the other I wanted to strangle Thom. I let him know how pissed off I was at him, how twisted he must be to think that his practical joke was even slightly humorous. He laughed in the face of my outrage and suggested I lighten up a bit. It was then that I knew for sure that this kind, grandfatherly, figure, was a sociopath.

The end.

Ok, I'm off to work on some music and at some point I'll watch one of the segments from The Power of Myth. If you ever get a chance to, watch this fine series of interviews with Joseph Campbell conducted by Bill Moyers. If nothing else, it'll make you feel a wee bit smarter.