I had a kitchen pass this past weekend because Hubby went off to play with his brothers. I love these weekends alone because I can stay up all night and do whatever I want with all the lights on and the music up loud. Somewhere around 3:00 a.m. I end up surfing through my YouTube collection of songs from the sixties.
I eventually hit upon Procol Harum's "Whiter Shade of Pale." The lyrics have always made my brain twitch in an I-can't-quit-reconcile-it kind of way. I can imagine a bunch of hippies stoned out on acid in some swank gentleman's club. Slouched in deep leather club chairs, they trip away with little mushrooms and flowers floating above their musty, uncombed hair.
After the ceiling flies away to reveal a sky filled with stars, Jeeves the waiter, immaculately turned out in tux and tails, calmly brings them a martini as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. With a snobby British, "Sir, your drink" he proffers the glass.
The dichotomy of the hippie versus the waiter has always held a fascination for me. Would the waiter think it odd that there was a skanky hippie in his club? Would he chaff at having to serve him? Would he sneer? Was he the one who decided that the drink should be a martini? Is that all they serve at this club?
Would the hippie think it strange to be offered a martini by a waiter in a tux? Would he flip out thinking he had gotten some bad acid? Would he be paranoid that he was high in a fancy gentleman's club? Wouldn't red wine go better with acid?
I wonder about the secret lives of my imaginary characters. What do they think? What makes them tick? Are they stuck in an endless loop of my imaginary fantasies while I sleep at night?
Who stole my Xanax?
Anyway, as I was listening to the song I was inspired to draw this scribble of the waiter. It has swirled around in my brain every time I've heard the song over the last four decades.
Now that he's been drawn (read: pooped out of my head), perhaps the immaculate Jeeves will be excused from any further Procol Harum fantasies and can finally get out of that tux and get comfortable.
He would probably appreciate that after 40 years of service.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
The Waiter Brought A Tray
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10 comments:
He wouldn't know what to do with himself after retirement- let him keep up the good work.
That song always gave me weird visuals too ;)
never heard of this song...off to youtube to check it out.
oh DOH! I know this song!!! I just never knew the title of it. Love it. I call it the cartwheel across the floor song. :) Now, you have been getting some sleep, yes???
forgot to say, loved the comic and your blazingly fast brain thoughts!!
Oh I know that song too. I love your characters in your head. And drawing them lets us see what they look like. Lovely.
Dora - Jeeves will probably have to stick around a bit longer. The hippie is still undrawn and tripping around in the recesses of my head.
Lost - No sleep. Only draw. MUST.DRAW.NOW. You have created a monster...a good kind. How can I ever thank you???
Sage - Funny, I never considered anyone would *want* to see them. I'll be happy to entertain y'all with my friendly little psychosis inhabitants from now on.
Whiter Shade is a song that i don't know all of the correct words to...so I kinda make them up as I sing along...another one is the Jefferson Airplane......White Rabbit....one pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small and the one that lalalalala. i wonder if your waiter has a pony tail and a 'stache
Rosie - ...and the ones that mother gives you - don't do anything at all. Go ask Alice. I think she'll know.
I just love how your mind works. :)
I think it's curiosity about others that makes for interesting art. :)
Being the perfect waiter - or at least as you imagine him that's how he's turend out - he would not have turned a hair while serving a hippie in his club.
Love what comes out of your brain Madam!
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