Roll-On

Showered, Briyen applied his Shaving roll-on and considered the next roll-ons as nanos removed his beard. Moving roll-on sticks like chess pieces, he set Youth and Charm up front but equivocated over his skin color. His natural color was an unflattering Flesh White, according to the consultants. He’d been Black once this week and Ebony twice. None of the Rainbow offerings appealed to him. His eyes roved over Teak, Latina, Hispanic, and Southern Europe, but his mind didn’t latch onto any until he saw SoCal Tan. That would work.

The Shaving done and enough time passed, he immediately put on Youth. A full body roll, that would would take longer to process. Sliding the Charm forward, he pondered Courage, Creativity, Confidence, and Imagination, and then decided, screw it, why not? He’d put them all on. It was dangerous because he was applying…one, two, three…five…eight? 

Eight. Shit. Last two times he’d applied eight roll-ons, he’d suffered the aptly-labeled crash, complete with scaly plaque psoriasis and an all-conquering headache. He’d been forced to apply the First Aid roll-on all friggin’ night. The next day had been endured without roll-ons. His hideous reflection had to be avoided. He’d been ravenous but mostly fasted, fearing side-effects. Naturally, he’d stayed inside and off cameras.

Not wanting to take those paths again, he put Courage and Imagination back. Six roll-ons would be good enough because even seven sometimes made him queasy, especially when it was supposed to be hot, as it was today, which meant, shit…he also needed Sun Protection & Cooling. Grimacing, he pulled the SP&C roll-on out and pushed the SoCal back. No tan today.

The Youth had already completed its work. Sagging and wrinkles were vanquished. His skin was tight, and his hair was fuller, thicker, and darker. Damn, he looked good. Humming, he finished up with the other roll-ons and set his timer for ten minutes. Couldn’t dress until enough time had been permitted – shit, didn’t wan to do that again, chuckling with rueful memory of how he turned out when he put clothes on too soon after the roll-ons. Never again, right? Right.

Finally, he was dressed and ready to roll. He took a few seconds to admire himself in the mirror and agreed with his private assessment that he looked damn fine for one hundred twenty-two years old. Hell, he didn’t look a day over twenty-two.

After favoring himself with a final approving grin, he headed for the door. Time to go write like crazy, at least one more time.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

As thoughts of impeachment, revolution, rebellion, and strife clashed against another potential Middle-East war, an old song popped into the ol’ music memory stream as I walked around Ashland.

Take the children and yourself
And hide out in the cellar
By now the fighting will be close at hand
Don’t believe the church and state
And everything they tell you
Believe in me, I’m with the high command

Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?

There’s a gun and ammunition
Just inside the doorway
Use it only in emergency
Better you should pray to God
The Father and the Spirit
Will guide you and protect from up here

Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?
Can you hear me, can you hear me running?
Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?

Swear allegiance to the flag
Whatever flag they offer
Never hint at what you really feel
Teach the children quietly
For some day sons and daughters
Will rise up and fight while we stood still

h/t AZLyrics.com

“Silent Running” by Mike + the Mechanics was released in 1985. Whenever I hear silent running as a phrase, I think of the 1972 science-fiction movie that starred Bruce Dern. The gist of the movie is that plants can no longer grow on Earth. Dern’s character is onboard a ship with large greenhouses in a solar orbit. They’re out there growing plants. When they’re ordered to destroy the greenhouses and return their ship to do other things, Dern’s character rebels. That’s when the fun begins.

 

Floof Row

Floof Row (floofinition) – part of a property or in a house frequented by lounging animals, particularly housepets.

In use: “The cats, dogs, kittens, and puppies made the guest room floof row, resigning Carrie to anticipation of a big clean once the foster animals were adopted.”

Wednesday’s Theme Music

We saw Amazing Grace, the documentary about Aretha Franklin and the two sessions used to record the live gospel album, Amazing Grace (1968). Watching her sing up-close was a powerful experience. Her talent still moves us, and technology allows us to experience it again and again. Besides her, Rev. James Cleveland, and the Southern California Community Choir, with Alexander Hamilton directing, gave mesmerizing performances.

After seeing the documentary, many Aretha Franklin sangs joined my mental music stream this week. Eventually I became stuck on “Think” from The Blues Brothers (1980).

 

Floofmiliar

Floofmiliar (floofinition) – 1. A housepet who is a close friend or associate to the people living in the house. 2 Housepets who are friends with one another. 3. A demon in the form of a housepet supposedly attending and obeying a witch.

In use: “Her miniature Collies were more than pets or friends, especially Gin-gin. Gin-gin was her floofmiliar, attending every mood and acting as a confidant. Gin-gin was trustworthy and dependable, and never told anyone the secrets that she knew.”

 

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