Stuck with Huey

I wasn't sure what I was going to post this morning, but as sometimes happens when you're a blogger of my stature (I'm 6'2"), the answer came to me in a dream.

Those of you who have been following this blog for some time know that the true motivation behind this blog is not, in fact, to bring people together through the gift of laughter nor even to stroke my massive ego, but rather to spread the word regarding the genius that is Huey Lewis. As a prophet of the mighty Huey, I am occasionally visited by dreams which are used by the Hip but Square One to impart guidance to those of you who are not as far along in your Walk along the Thin Line.

I have spoken before of my first prophetic dream of Huey, in which I was a Moses-like figure who led his people to the promised land only to be refused entry himself:

In this dream I was at the mall, waiting for Huey Lewis to arrive. Evidently I had won tickets to a Huey Lewis and the News concert, and part of the prize was getting to meet Huey himself. I stood there in the mall, wondering when Huey would arrive. I was not wondering if Huey would arrive, because Huey always follows through on his commitments. That's the kind of stand-up guy he is. Not like that f---ing flake Godot.

Sure enough, he showed up right on time. He definitely isn't as spry as he was back in the 80s, but he looked trim and neat in a casual button-down shirt and jeans. I shook his hand and introduced him to my son, Climber, who had appeared next to me, as people sometimes do in my dreams. "This man's name is Huey," I told Climber. "Just like Huey, Dewey and Louie."

If Huey took offense at that, he didn't show it, although he seemed to be more interested in getting something to eat. We stopped in at one of those nice family restaurants in the mall, like R.J. Blannigan's or whatever. Huey spoke briefly with the manager, securing a nice, out-of-the way booth for himself and his sizable entourage. I said entourage, you pervs. Anyway, his entourage was so large that by the time everyone sat down, there was no room for me. I think Climber got in, but I had to sit at another table.

I don't hold it against Huey -- a man has to put his entourage first. I knew that was how it had to be. And that's where the dream ended.

This dream, as you know, was the first in an escalating series of events that culminated in the Huey-pocalypse (also sometimes known as Huey-geddon), in which the forces of infectious light rock vanquished the forces of evil once and for all. It was, to put it mildly, an exciting time to be alive.

But now I have been visited by another Huey-related dream, indicating that my work in spreading the News is not yet finished. Listen:

I was at a Huey Lewis concert with my college friend X, who I specifically recall disliked Huey Lewis when we were in college. Evidently X had come around, proving that no one is beyond the Power of Love. It was a relatively small concert; the venue was a small rectangular theater split by a single center aisle (an arrangement that I realized, after waking, was reminiscent of a church). There were maybe 300 people there. Before the concert started, Huey emerged from the back and matter-of-factly informed the crowd that he would be getting some drinks after the show and that anyone who was up for it was welcome to join him. The crowd accepted this news with aplomb, although being comprised mostly of people in their forties with children and other responsibilities, not many of them seemed likely to take Huey up on his offer. This made me sad. X turned to me and said that he thought we should meet Huey after the show. I was already feeling a bit tired, but I thought, "Who am I to risk the budding faith of a new Huey devotee?" I said, "Ok, but we'll need to hit Starbucks first."

The show began, with Huey performing a number of deeper cuts from Picture This and Fore! A screen over Huey's head displayed a slightly blown up version of Huey's head, which wasn't really necessary, since he was only about 50 feet away from the back of the theater. Next to Huey's magnified real-time head on the screen was an image of Huey's head from 20+ years earlier, singing the same song. The two Huey heads looked remarkably similar, considering the passage of time, but I noticed a few oddities about the 1980s Huey head. First, it was wearing eye shadow. Second, it appeared to be slurring the words, relying on the crowd to fill in the gaps. Is 1980s Huey stoned? I wondered to myself.

After Huey finished up "Jacob's Ladder," the strains of Bob Seger's "Old Time Rock 'n' Roll" began to play over the speakers. At first I was appalled. Was Huey performing a cover of the shittiest Bob Seger song ever? But then it became apparent that the theater was undergoing some sort of fire drill. They were playing Bob Seger to facilitate the process of getting everyone outside as quickly as possible. Genius.

I wandered outside with the rest of the crowd, noticing that several members of my high school class were in attendance. I was going to crack a Bob Seger joke, saying "This was only a test. In the event of a real Bob Seger performance, you would have been unable to leave the theater." (Because even in my dreams, I spend a lot of time devising lame jokes to make people like me.) Unfortunately I never had a chance to crack my joke, because a sort of impromptu high school reunion had occurred. I'm not sure if all these guys (sadly, none of the girls I knew in high school showed up, possibly because I didn't know any girls in high school) had all come to the Huey Lewis concert to surprise me, knowing that I would be there, of if they were surprised to see me. The dream sort of faded out after that, and once again I didn't actually get to talk to Huey.

I wish I could interpret this prophetic vision for you; sadly, I am only a vessel for the New Drug. Perhaps you can offer an interpretation in the comments.

I won't be doing a caption contest this week, on account of the big holiday. The good news is that I'm finished with my novel, Mercury Falls! Well, at least I think I'm finished. The length ended up not being a problem; it's now 81,000 words long. I've sent it out to four people whose opinions I trust, including frequent commenter Glacial Spain (whom I also know from high school), Joel of Crummy Church Signs, Jocelyn of O Mighty Crisis and John Sellers of Angry John Sellers, author of Perfect from Now On (whom I know from our overlapping tours in the 'Nam, which neither of us likes to talk about, since we were only 3 years old and not ready for all the shit that went down over there).

Anyway, we'll see what my focus group thinks about the book; I may have some rewriting to do. After that, the book will hopefully be something I can interest a publisher in.

Have a swell weekend and a great holiday (for those of you in the States)!

If you enjoyed this post, may I also recommend: Waiting for Huey | Would You Buy this Novel? Find more funny blogs at Humor-Blogs.com