“Today, in our field, there is so much talent and recognition that we are reaching a saturation point. An artist should no longer strive only for breathtaking craftsmanship; he should, instead, try to help us live better, either by dressing the wounds that are constantly being opened by society, or by offering solutions to get us out of the mess we’re in…But it’s going to be difficult and we have a lot of work to do.” - Jean 'Moebius' Giraud
Friday, April 23, 2010
Speaking medication, I have a little story that I'd like to tell you about.
After coming back from the show in Orlando, I fell victim to a nasty cold and cough. "Convention sludge" as some of my friends in the industry have come to refer to it. Anyway, to combat this flu I decided to turn to ol' reliable - the medicine that tastes like the color on its bottle - NYQUIL. And because I have ludicrous logic, I believed that if 3 teaspoons of the recommended dosage would help me fight this damned virus, then surely 6 tablespoons ought to destroy the hell out of it. Fast forward to a couple of hours after taking said medicine, when I was in an alcoholic haze similar to that of a man who'd drank his weight in bottom shelf vodka, I tasted that my mouth was rank with bacteria and decided to brush my teeth. So I loaded the bristles with toothpaste, cranked up the Sonicare and I start to go about my business.
Did you know NyQuil causes severe drowsiness, inhibits your motor skills and that you shouldn't operate heavy machinery while you're on it? It really does. It even says it on the label someplace. What I wish the damned medicine board would tell me is what they classify as 'heavy machinery'. Because to me, the motorized toothbrush should be on that motherf*ckin' list.
Anyway, I start my toothbrushing routine (starting with the upper row of teeth), when all of a sudden my medicated mind starts to slip into slumberland and my head bobs forward like I'm a sleep deprived big-rig truck driver on his way to Fresno. It was at this point that my muscles and modern technology betray me as I could neither control nor prevent the toothbrush from slipping out of my mouth, over the top of my upper lip, then the length of my nose, and finally resting on my forehead where it continues its 5 bazillion strokes/second.
I woke up a few moments later after the toothbrush's timer beeps and I caught a glimpse of myself in my bathroom mirror. I looked INCREDIBLE; I had a red mark the size of a coined dollar in the middle of my brow. I had toothpaste splatterings on my face, on the mirror in front of me and on my clothes. And the pièce de résistance? I had my pajamas around my ankles and I was in a 4x4' prison cell in Shanghai.
See? Don't you miss these late night talks we have when I'm hopped up on no sleep and lying through my teeth?
Yeah... I miss you guys too.
at 12:59 AM