A whole shitload of deer just walked past our house. Maybe five or six of the things, all tip-toeing together in a pack. And we don’t live in the country, either… We see more minivans and American Eagle sweatshirts than woodland creatures up here.
Needless to say, Andy’s head nearly exploded off his shoulders. He’d never seen such a large number of enormous dogs in his life. I thought he was going to go through the glass.
Weird stuff, man. And it’s not the only strange thing that’s happened lately. In fact, I’d like to get your analysis of a few unusual occurrences from the past couple of weeks.
One recent morning I noticed a small cut on my arm. It wasn’t bleeding or anything, more like a scratch, really. It was roughly an inch long, crossways on my right forearm. Huh, I thought, I don’t remember doing that. Whatever.
I moved on to more pressing matters (Toaster Strudel), when Toney came into the kitchen.
“I woke up with a scratch on my arm, and don’t know how it got there,” she said. And I nearly dropped my frosting pouch.
What do you make of that, huh? It was exactly the same kind of cut, in almost the same place. Is that bizarre, or what?
Then, a few days later, Toney told me she’d woken up with “1979” by Smashing Pumpkins in her head. Even though she hadn’t heard that song in ten years, she guessed.
And later in the week she heard it in real life, playing inside a grocery store. That blew her mind a little, and she made a point of calling me on her cell phone to tell me about it. “This means something,” she said.
It was kind of interesting, but I was skeptical about it having special significance. I sometimes wake up with songs playing inside my brain, songs I don’t believe I’ve heard in a very long time. But I always suspect I have heard it, without realizing it. Off in the background somewhere, amongst the noise and clatter of everyday life.
Then I heard it. Inside Moe’s, blasting from their stereo: “1979.” What the hell, man?? Maybe it does mean something? I probably hadn’t heard it since California, or thereabouts.
And finally, I had a copy of my “book” printed this afternoon. Tomorrow I’m going to start the revision process, and want to work from a paper copy.
I’d like to go somewhere with the manuscript, a pen, and a notebook, and mark it up and make notes like it’s 1965 (or 1979, I suppose). Computers are great, but sometimes an old-fashioned approach is still best, I think.
Anyway, the cost of the copy was $12.34. 1, 2, 3, 4. See? That might be a sign, as well. What do you think? What does it mean?
All of it, in fact. What do you make of the following?
- the shitload of deer
- the identical scratches on our right forearms
- the sudden reappearance of “1979” by Smashing Pumpkins in our lives
- the book costing $12.34 to print
And before anyone gets up on their high-horse, and acts like I’m being serious here… please know that I’m just having some fun. It saddens me that it’s come to this, but I feel like I need to make it clear that I don’t REALLY believe in this kind of stuff.
I won’t be updating on Thursday, but will try to post a podcast on Friday. It might slide into Saturday, but I’ll shoot for Friday.
In the meantime, please do your best to analyze the paranormal activity in my life, of late. And if you have anything similar to report, we’d like to know about it, as well.
See you guys next time.
Have a great day.