dancing in the frozen moonlight

I have been really, really dizzy lately. Really dizzy. The kind of dizzy that indicates intoxication or decreased levels of oxygen to the brain. True, I was sick with a funky virus and I let my temperature rise without checking it. I don't know what to say... I just don't like to take aspirin.

So there is that theory. I cooked my brain and it's just fried. If so, I am the luckiest guy in the world. I am constantly stoned and I didn't spend a dime. In fact, I got this constant buzz by NOT taking drugs.

If it's not that, then I don't know what it is. The other rationales are darker and more menacing, so I will pretend it's something simple and just live with it.

Living with it means driving 12 hours to Calgary, giddy. So giddy that at one point, I just stopped the car and let it out. I know I was in Canada. I don't remember crossing the border, but I know I'm in Canada. (It smells better here)

I also know that I am in Alberta. It could be Saskatchewan, but I'm pretty sure I haven't been driving that long, so it has to be Alberta. It's too flat to be British Columbia.

It's cold. It's dark. The road is spinning up a fine mist of snow which looks a lot like cool steam escaping off of melting ice. The cloud of fine mist is twenty feet high and dancing in the blasts of wind. The moonlight spotlights moments in the darkness that if you're quick enough, you can play in for just a moment before it's swallowed up and disappears. The natural beauty of this roadside attraction is too much for my dizzy mind.

Thank the Gods for the Ipod. With the light-hearted words of Snopp Dogg being performed by the band, Phish, I am jumping from spotlight to spotlight and laughing my ass off. It's a little piece of heaven in the mind of a dizzy person. Dancing and singing. Footloose and fancy free.

The remainder of my drive into Calgary is filled with a blasting stereo and without it I would have no way of measuring time or distance. Without it I would still be in the car driving north across the barren wasteland of northern Alberta wondering why Calgary was playing hard to get.

I arrived some time after midnight and feel asleep thinking of the dancing snow and flashing moonlight. The sound of the mandolin, a fiddle and the refrain of "gin and juice" ringing in my head.

I may have cooked something important in my noodle. It may be like this forever. I do hope so. I would never leave the house. I wouldn't have a reason to. I would be legally disabled and the feds would send me a crazy check to stay home and suffer. THAT'S right. I would have my "mind on my money and my money on my mind!!!!!" Laid back! Crazy and paid for it. Which is more than I can say for all the hours I spend doing other things.

Thank you Snopp Dogg, for your inspirational words. Thank you Kevin Bacon for reminding us all that we have the right to dance in rural parts of the world(in his case, Utah). And thank you virus of unknown origin, you made my privates tingle.