Take Sominex Tonite And Sleep...

L. Van Warren

Rod and I were at SIGGRAPH in the mid 80's on one of several adventures. We were sitting on a Boston city bus across from each other by the driver. The bus driver got off. Rod gives me that look and quips, "Now it's ours." I came within a blink of going over to the driver's seat, closing the door, hitting the gas and declaring free rides to all of Boston, Viva. Sponsored by the SIGGRAPH bandits....

As usual I was minding my own business driving down the road. The radio was playing, "Take Sominex tonight and sleep ... safe and restful, sleep, sleep, sleep." Sleep? I'd like to, but can't. Shopping for the blue light special more like, right in the rear view mirror. Routine traffic stop? Maybe. You want me to stick my damn arm out the window everytime there's a curve? For who? Huckleberry Hound? The Three Bears? I brake for hallucinations like the bumper stick says. Big house time just to change lanes on smooth deserted winding road? Deserted until Buddy Buster Brownshoes scopes me for shark bait. I'll take the fifth. I'd made enough bad deals this decade. Didn't feel like signing any more papers that day either. One thing I didn't feel like signing was that ticket he shoved in my face. Dirty nails. America's finest? I think not. Must work on cars. Looking straight down the highway with my foot on the gas I mutter, "I'm not signing today officer".

"Look Mr." he says to me, peering further into my window and starting to look around inside, "You can sign this now, or you can take a little ride, but you WILL be signing". "Well sir", I answered with a deep breath, "I guess we're going for that little ride."

I put my hand out to open the door real slow like. He rested his on six easy pieces, six easy pieces of lead, six little messages to yours truly that it was time to play Big Boy. "I'd like you to put both hands on top of the wheel where I can see them", he bellowed. My hands jumped to ten and two o'clock as my bladder responded to being grabbed by the balls. "Step out of the car please", he continued opening my door. He massaged a grip sticking from black leather fastened to a waistband named 'Texas'. He rubbed that grip with sweaty little fingers, fingers that were too short for the hand on which they were carelessly plastered. Maybe he envies fingers like mine, fingers sitting at ten and two, five little fingers with a message for him. Maybe he envies more than that, maybe he's just a rogue psycho cop, and I am his latest bored traffic stop.

"Attack without warning", is a saying of mine,
the results I must say are simply divine.
That gun on his belt kept his guard arm quite low,
and his head flopped right on back from my own sudden blow.
He's seeing stars, and now for my flight,
just for sure, one more whack, he sleeps for the night.

"Safe and Restful, sleep, sleep, sleep."