July 19: Montana Wildhack, Poetry Conversation, Eleven

Barbara called the oil-burner man, and she made Billy go to bed, made him promise to stay under the electric blanket until the heat came on.  She set the control of the blanket at the highest notch, which soon made Billy's bed hot enough to bake bread on.

When Barbara left, slamming the door behind her, Billy traveled in time to the zoo on Tralfamadore again.  A mate had just been brought to him from Earth.  She was Montana Wildhack, a motion picture star.

Yes, the aliens decide that Billy needs to mate.  So they bring in Montana Wildhack.  Now, from what I remember of the movie, Montana was portrayed by Valerie Perrine.  I used to have a book of science fiction films that had a picture from the movie.  Perrine was topless, with the actor playing Billy standing behind her with a shirt.  You can imagine how many times I looked at the picture when I was in middle school.  Let's just say, A LOT.

First, I want to apologize for my absence last night.  I went to a poetry discussion last night.  Three fantastic poets talking about writing poetry--Keith Taylor, Thomas Lynch, and Cindy Hunter Morgan.  It was a really good night.  Poets know how to tell entertaining stories and keep an audience engaged.  Sort of like putting them in a Tralfamadorian zoo and letting them interact.  Plus, I walked away with three new books (two collections of poetry, one collection of short fiction).

By the time the presentation was over, however, I was not feeling the greatest.  A little feverish.  Really tired.  By the time I got home, I only had energy to take four ibuprofen and watch an episode of Stranger Things.  I tried to write a blog post, but everything I typed came out looking like this:  "alkjsIla;ls;e   sjlkdflkvnz,189234laslsnfslflass!!! peepeee!!!"  So, I went to bed and did not sleep well at all.  Imagine me as Billy Pilgrim under that damn electric blanket, baking like a loaf of bread.

This malaise has held on all day today, as well.  I came home from work and went to bed for forty minutes.  Woke up a little refreshed, but now, at around 8 p.m., I am on a downward spiral.  Even Montana Wildhack/Valerie Perrine won't excite me right now.  I may have the energy for another episode of Stranger Things.  That's about it.

So, Saint Marty is thankful tonight for ibuprofen and new poetry and Eleven.

If you haven't seen the series, you should