[Pictured: Do either of these two look like a politician to you?]
Zuma Dogg don’t believe in the kinds of psychics you see on Venice Beach or on Larry King, but I do think some people are more perceptive than others in the Deepak Chopra department.
But nothing really knocked me out, like a comment from a complete random stranger early yesterday evening as I was walking down the sidewalk, with my computer bag, toward the internet cafe.
As I am walking, this guy who kinda looked like he could have been ZD, himself (kinda that un-kempt, Venice Beach, 70’s throwback, downscale apperance) shouts out, “You look like a politician walking the good path.”
(Sound of the rubber on ZD’s shoes screeching against the cement to stop and turn back and look.)
I say, “Why, do you know me?” (Thinking he MUST have seen me on City TV 35, otherwise, why would he say that?) He replies, “No.”
So now, I’m actually stunned, because you know what…for someone to look at me walking down the street in dirty jeans, black sneakers, black cap (as pictured above) , short sleeved black t-shirt and scruffy beard…
THAT WAS SOME INTERPRETATION TO THROW OUT THERE, considering even though I’m not OFFICIALLY a politician, I think everyone reading this kinda knows I try and emulate being “the people’s politician” and I am delusional enough to let everyone know that I wanna put my name on the ballot for the Mayor ’09 election.
Once he told me he didn’t know who I was (the guy at City Council meetings), I said, “Why did you say that…I mean, look at me, I don’t look like your typical politician.”
He said I was walking like I was on a determined mission.
I WAS! (Blogging against fraud, waste and abuse.)
Just couldn’t believe that he could tell. I told him he should set up a booth at Venice Beach.
Meanwhile…what the hell is wrong with me? Why was I walking like a determined politician on a beautiful August Friday evening? (It’s a “spiraling out of control” situation, unfortunately.)
I remember the days I used to watch TV, and sit down, and hang out with friends, and go to a night club/karaoke, or walk around Venice or 3rd Street Promenade, or something. And it’s Saturday morning, I’m already delirious at 11 AM from already being up since 4:30 AM, and I can see I’ll be stuck here all day again with nothing to do but blog my life away.
Unfortunately, blogger’s comment below is perceptive, too. (Even though I always thought I was a “Rocket Man” not a “Candle in the Wind.”
But once I read this (below), it kinda hit home of recent days…OUCH! It was bad enough when I sang, “Like A Rolling Stone” at karaoke recently; and I DID know, “How does it feel.” (Double Ouch!)
I don’t know who this person is…but pretty cool of them:
“Say did anyone send Zuma Dogg a few bucks? He has a Paypal acct. and its easy to do. I fear for his sanity at times. He’s like that candle in the wind Elton John sang about . Now granted Zuma Dogg is no Marilyn Monroe or Princess Diana, but he does perform a public service, besides the comic entertainment, I believe his scrutiny keeps these crooked bastards semi-legal. But then we all know that if he were to tread too heavily on any toes, and got more credibility that he’d be history, just another freak that got disappeared. Money writes the script in this drama.”
I better get out of here before I become COMPLETELY bitter and cranky. It’s still only Saturday morning.