O Brother, Where art Thou?

Police have a policy where they do not search for missing people until something like 48-hours have passed. Which is well and good if you have enough food, water and air to last you the two days of whatever environment you choose to find yourself in. The cops WILL eventually shrug their shoulders and, yawning from watching too much back-to-back "afternoon delights" of Jerry Springer's crack ho opera, put on their gloves and waders to fish out potential candidates out of the Yarra. A fact I informed Micah's mother Linda who had not heard from him in a month or so. This did not have the calming effect I had intended.

'So you can relax. It's been long enough that you can get the search party on to him today.'

Linda: 'I was calm when I called. Now I'm starting to panic. When was the last time you saw my son?'

'Which one?' I said, stalling for time. Micah has a brother, Nifty, who is living in Canada- the land of mounties, Shatner, maple syrup, DeGrassi Junior High and Avril Lavigne. And where Kentucky Fried Chicken is called Le Poulet Frit Kentucky. I hadn't seen him in about three years- a fact I chose not to share with her in case she started freaking out more.

'Micah! Have you seen Micah?!'

There had been signs of Micah still being alive. There was about $5 worth of change missing from my coin jar and someone had eaten all my food and left dirty dishes everywhere. But I couldn't be sure. Maybe a little white lie couldn't hurt the poor, increasingly hysterical woman?

'I'm sorry. I have to go.' I say, hanging up the phone then disconnecting the line.

Champagne for my true friends, True pain for my sham friends,

Fatman



p.s. Thank you Laura Z. from Canberra for getting me the Beastie Boys tickets for Ground Hog Day. What an awesome show! It was thrilling to see 40-year old Jewish guys rock the stage...and they weren't even rabbis!