Monday Morning Commute: We Are What We Pretend to Be.

Gerard the Robot was in the midst of a mid-life crisis.

His wife was bangin’ the milkman. She hadn’t admitted to it, but she didn’t have to. Every time that Gerard came home from a double-shift or an overnight — he was a nurse at the most prestigious hospital in Town — the fridge’d be full of dairy. And while Gerard knew that Georgiette and L’il Henry enjoyed their morning bowls of cereal, there was no reasonable explanation for why the fridge was teeming with bovine.

A half gallon of skim. Three glass bottles of 2%. A carafe of heavy cream.

But most unsettling of all was the glow on his wife’s face. There was a rosy-hue, a vivacious scarlet dancing upon her cheeks that he’d only seen after they’d made love. She’d claim she’d spent the day in the sun or was just feeling under the weather, but he knew why there was blood in her cheeks. It was because she was satisfied.

And it wasn’t Gerard that was satisfying her.

See, Gerard’s pneumatic organ had broken down nearly half a year ago. If he was a human, he’d have gone to the doctor for an embarrassing appointment and walked out with a prescription for Triumph Pills. But as a robot, Gerard had to order a new part. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem. However, Gerard was an import, and with the all the trade sanctions being tossed around, he was having a real hard time.

Which is ironic, given that all Gerard wanted was a real hard time.

This is tomorrow’s mid-life crisis. A fridge full of milk. A wife full of the milkman. And a robot-eunuch weeping at the kitchen table.

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Welcome to the Monday Morning Commute! This is OL’s weekly venue for celebrating the entertainment that helps us survive the workweek! First, I’m going to show you the various ways I’ll be staving off bad-vibes and responsibilities! Then, y’all hit up the comments section and offer your own suggestions. This is Internet-based show-and-tell for the nerds and geeks and dweebs who aren’t afraid to wear their hearts on their sleeves!

Okay, let’s dance!

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Blastin’/Pop Music

I’m a fan of pop music.

But this wasn’t always the case. For many, many years, I found myself supremely narrow-minded musically. Anything that was simple or straightforward or mainstream (GASP!), would be met with supreme skepticism. I didn’t want to know what was on the radio. Music videos made my tummy wretch. I wasn’t interested in hearing about who was headlining what festival.

And then I stopped giving fucks.

I think I’m just at a place in my life where I’m willing to enjoy things for what they are. Sure, sometimes I want to seek out the super-deep, uber-complicated, mind-puzzling entertainment on which I used to exclusively feed. But a lot of the time now, I’m okay with just sitting back and appreciating the surface of existence.

And for that, pop music is wonderful.

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Geekin’ Out Over/The Star Wars

Dark Horse Comics gearin’ up to publish The Star Wars, a miniseries based on the first draft of what would become George Lucas’ magnum opus. As a devout disciple of the Force, I can’t help but get super-amped! Even if it turns out to be totally lame (again, it’s based on a script that ended up being drastically changed), I’m sure there’ll be enough cool moments to justify the purchases.

Hell, this morning my excitement for this series led me to read the first draft of Revenge of the Jedi.

And no, it wasn’t very good.

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Seein’/Elysium!

Elysium came out last Friday and I’ve yet to see it. So, yeah, I guess maybe I’ll swing by the theater and check it out. If any of you have already given it a viewing, let me know what you thought of it (sans spoilers, yo!).

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So that’s what my week’s all about — pop music and what-if stories and science fiction.

What’re you doin’ this week?