So I emailed the editors of TIME, I mean enough already.

every respectable posse needs a resident slovak. i am willing to help y'all out.

I have a meeting set up with an executive committee of TIME today. Attending will be Jennifer and what she described as several persons of power. She said she had my number and that, even though I don't need any repairs on my car, they were going to fix my wagon. Cool. Exciting right?

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Eva: I think I sent Albert over to the Swan Lake address. As soon as I raise him on the sat-phone he'll come a cruising. It's a white limo, just so you know and don't get in the wrong one.

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Ceili : you have given me a brilliant idea. Will share it tonight.

Joe(Should I wear a tie to the Time/Warner meeting?)

No tie, Joe. Regular guys hate ties, remember? Oh, alright, you can wear a tie if you want, but remember to loosen the knot and unbutton the top two buttons of your shirt under the tie...it IS a plaid shirt, right?

I'm so glad you mentioned that it was a WHITE limo. There are so many cruising through this neighborhood, you know...it can be confusing. Will Albert expect a tip, or have you already taken care of that?

Eva(still sitting in the porch swing)

The meeting with executives of TIME did not go well. The headline in the New York Daily News was "Chaos in the Corridors", that should give you some idea, but it wasn't my fault. I was a perfect gentleman. Turns out this Jennifer person was merely a tempura working the phones when I spoke to her the first time and that she had taken it a little personally when I began calling her at home, leaving messages on her cell and putting little colorful sticky notes on her mailbox, though for the life of me I don't know why. I suppose following her to that restaurant was a little over the top.

At any rate, after her goons had chased me up the stairwell to the seventieth floor. Did I mention she had goons chase me up to the seventieth floor? No? Huh, I thought I did. Well, luckily I have been training for the Empire State Building Stairclimb so seventy floors was the kind of thing I do to go get lunch everyday, but the goons were more the elevator chase kind of goon and were pretty tuckered out by the time they reached me. I was waiting for them.

Thanks to the principles of Dahtrism (recently revealed to me by pure chance, thanks to bobsmyhawk's miss-spelling of the word 'darts'), I was fully aware of my Daht and transcendent of all earthly trials.

I had also found a 16 oz ball peen hammer laying on the landing of the seventieth floor.

When we crashed out into the corridors, me, swinging the hammer at the sweating craniums of the goons, they, cursing very loudly for three guys so out of breath, the trouble started. When the first one dove for me I did what my Dahtrism guru calls the Wings of Heaven move. That's where you assert your intention to deny gravity it's rule. So I floated, rather well I thought later for someone who had only learned how a few days ago, I floated horizontally across the room of screaming women and desks and pushed off again towards what I thought was the door to the elevator banks, all the while rocking and bopping with the ball peen hammer on the hands, heads and hearts of the two remaining goonishm. I later asked my teacher if it had been okay to use the hammer instead of just my hands and he was drawn into the silence, so I really don't know.

Anyway, there was a lot of yelling and blood, you hit somebody on the head with a ballpeen hammer and they are going to bleed and yell. You hit them again and they are much quieter but there is still a lot of spillage onto paper and computer printouts and personal belongings of the screaming women in the room on the seventieth floor.

So I did "the Cherry Blossom Falls From the Tree', I compressed myself into a ball about the size of a Florida grapefruit, rolled into a space behind a desk and rested until after things had calmed.

It was awhile.

Then I went to lunch and thought of the cover of TIME. It doesn't seem to be my goal anymore.

My goal now is get all the members of A2k to come to my class reunion.

Joe(Unpack everyone.)Nation

PS To make up for any inconvenience I have sent songbirds to your locations. They shall stay for most of the summer, but tonight at dusk, will burst into a concert of violet, sunset red and springgreening.

Ahh, that's so kind of you, Joe. I'm looking forward to my songbird concert tonight. Who needs Time, anyway?

Ask me for anything but Time.

Does that now make this thread Timeless?

sure does. it also makes jennifer's soul timeless after her head has been quadrupled with ballpeen hammer and could not have been made one again.

Ah. Well, I was wondering why Albert never showed up.

Eva(gave up and went inside when it got dark)

No. (Sorry to have to disagree with you there, Dag.)


Drew(imitation is the sincerest form of flattery)Dad

What are you guys imitating?

Joe (er...so are you guys coming to the reunion?) Nation

fine. no limo, nobody agrees with me, suit yourselves. find yourself some other bloody resident slovak. there.
Dagmar (I quit) aka.

but (blubber) I liked having a resident Slovak! It was like having a member of the true warrior/peacekeeper guardian/watcher tribe be a part of us.

Pleeze. Ride your bicycle past our fire tonight. My tent is the one with the green lantern.

Joe( hey, my batteries are running down.)Nation

Don't give up on Joe, dag. His spirits are low enough already. What a disappointment about TIME magazine. Who would've thought?

E(sure, I'll go to your reunion, what'll I wear?)va

No!

weeellll we'll see what i can do. but my bicycle is awaiting new wheels, i'll just have to come by on a hucul pony -the furry kind that Huns invaded our lands with. Or was it the Avars? eh, one of dem Turks...

Is is difficult to keep track when you have been invaded so times by so many different people? I'm speaking of Slovakia, of course, and not you personally. Still...

but I meant to mention that I thought we would go to the reunion as a cult, dressed in robes of some sort with Eva playing the role of demented leader, making pronouncements that we answer to by yelling Sha Na Na.
(Which would be ironic in some way because the dj always plays something with the words Sha Na Na.

And there's an open bar.

Joe( )Nation

Whazzis about an open bra?

Open bar, open bra, either way it's okay with me.

Joe, why don't you check with Christo & Jean Claude about some of that leftover saffron fabric. It'd make dandy robes.

I'll go practice my "demented leader" schtick. I've got an old Spike Jones record around here somewhere. (Closet? Basement?) We could use some of those songs for hymns. Anybody got a metal garbage can lid? How 'bout old bed springs?