Pickle & Blackbird

Brought to you by my wacky subconscious.

First of all, let me level with you here. Work has been tense and busy in recent days, which is why you haven’t heard much from me lately. The tension part should get resolved in a couple weeks. As for whether I’m still busy after that, well, we’ll see.

Anyway, back to Pickle & Blackbird. I dreamed in the wee hours of the morning that I was auditioning nightclub acts. Couldn’t tell you why, except that the nightclub needed some entertainment, I guess. Where’s Desi Arnaz when you need him?

I saw several mediocre performers, but I was really impressed by the jazz duet Pickle & Blackbird. Their elaborate costumes, not their music, caught my attention. The female singer was a huge, sponge-rubber Vlasic Kosher Dill. Not just any pickle, but a Vlasic Kosher Dill. The male keyboardist was covered from head to toe in black feathers, a few of which drifted quietly to the stage anytime he moved. I was just about to sign them when I woke up.

A giant pickle? A giant blackbird? Where on earth did I get those visions? I didn’t even eat any pizza before bed.

If you were a lounge act, what would you be? I think I’d be a Reader’s Digest comedian — just stand at the mike and read the jokes out of RD and see if anybody laughed.

Today around the world: September 28 is Confucius' Birthday in Taiwan.