Windmills of my mind

The other day, the Friday before that Saturday, I had arranged to meet Johnny I. for lunch at the Museum of Sydney caff. and was mid stroll down Castlereagh Street when my mind went completely blank about the café’s location.

I could picture the actual museum and café and the big open space (not my mind) in front of it, but for the love of Mike, or Johnny, for that matter, I just couldn’t remember where it was.

I promptly panicked, and “fuckity fuck, bollocky bear” was the mind’s preferred mantra for the next ten minutes trying to ease me out of the blind panic, and boy was that a successful strategy.

I apologise if I passed you on Castlereagh Street and you happened upon my wild, startled eyes blinking furiously as I bit my lips and screwed up my mouth in a ridiculously contorted fashion. It really wasn’t my impression of some cheesecake model, it’s the only way I can think, particularly grasp life’s great problems such as getting from A to B, when you’re a great addled C, who has lived her life through the bottom of a cascade light bottle.

Eventually, in tribute to Moira Shearer and Hans Christian Andersen, I just let the feet do the walking, kinda novel, eh, and guide me to the café, which actually worked.

However that ten minutes of blank doesn’t augur well for one’s future or today, frankly. I’ve got another luncheon meeting, this time at a cafe called “Cube”. And I really hope my mind isn’t going to spin out like that of Lana Turner’s character, Big Moma, in that late 60’s film called Cube, or perhaps Big Cube, where Big Moma’s drink or food is secretly spiked with LSD by her wicked stepdaughter, and Moma trips out big time - not that i think today's luncheon companion would do that - her specialty is innocent mischief, and evidently my mind spins out of its own accord.

I think Lana made this film to revive her flagging career, get contemporary and keep up with the kids. Come to think of it, a pretty good idea, really. My career prospects are fairly grim at the moment. I’m gonna make a movie goddamn it and I’ll be guaranteed to get that promotion, blank mind and all!



Reverend Phillpott advises that today is Shrove Tuesday. So have a pancake for J.C.