Sun baking in a space-age safari suit
Blob Soup blobs on the couch taking some time out for a change. Always on the run. Not that he wants to be, but that is the way the cheese melts. Sometimes he bakes an eggplant.
He rolls off the couch, rolls into the next room seeing out the window a bright blue sky with seagulls flying through on their way for a day at the beach. Well, that decides it: Blob Soup is going to the beach too.
He prepares a lettuce and peanut butter sandwich, puts it in a paper bag and folds the bag over. He fills his thermos with iced peppermint tea made yesterday and kept in the refrigerator.
He goes into the next room and puts an emerald-green beach towel in his claret duffle bag. He steps outside wearing a powder-yellow, wide-brimmed hat with a fine silk band in blue, pale grey sunglasses. He’s comfortable in a light pair of overalls, painted up by himself in a brilliant stellar explosion, a cosmic happening.
His car is a thick beam of wood with a wheel bolted on the front and another wheel bolted on the back. He made it himself. Takes off the handbrake and tears down the steep hill to the water. Lands on the sand. He stretches out his towel and everyone looks over and says, Hey, check out this cool guy with the crazy homemade outfit! Actually probably nobody really noticed him but he felt like he looked sharp anyway, whoever knew it or not.
He is enjoying his sandwich when sand blows through and sticks on the peanut butter. He still finishes his sandwich and drinks some iced tea. The sun is blasting hot now and he’s had enough so he climbs back on his plank with two wheels and peddles it up the hill to his house, better described as a shack. Three sheets of tin hammered onto seven planks all leaning together. What holds it together is how it leans together. He made the shack himself. Lean on me. Playing on the radio.
Blob Soup sits on the sofa and reads a book for a while. He feels peaceful, unselfconscious, and yes, he is thoughtful, but not overly so. In this moment everything is alright with Blob Soup. Not that it is going to stay that way, because it doesn’t do that, that’s just how it is.
Blob Soup sways along with the cosmic vibrations, because from practice he has learned it’s the best way to do it. If you can’t dig a tunnel, build a bridge. Climb a mountain. String up a hammock and sleep a while in the shade. It’s going to get hot some of the time. Flipside, cold is cold. Sometimes somewhere in the middle. Blob Soup. He thinks about flying. Doesn’t know how to do it.
