incense and peppermints, meaningless nouns, turn on, turn in, turn your eyes around

Starting last year, my school made us have those pesky meetings with guidance counselors to discuss our goals, dreams, and futures. Well, I generally lack any realistic ambitions -- being the gypsy princess of Monaco and wife to Paul McCartney doesn't seem like the safest set path for my future -- but that didn't really phase me when I was going in to meet with them. To be honest, I had no real goals, dreams, or tentative futures that didn't involve being transported back a few decades in a time machine. I was fairly certain I didn't want to go to college, but that was never an option, especially for the mildly crazy like I. You see, I don't think about things in terms of how plausible it is or what will be best for me in reality -- to quote Blanche DuBois, "I don't want realism, I want magic!" Well, they were all well and horrified enough after just a few questions, but then the pièce de résistance when they asked me who were figures in history that I most admired. I answered truthfully -- that my personal heroes changed from time to time, but at the moment they were: Abraham Lincoln, Ice-T, and Keith Richards.
I wasn't trying to be cool or anything, because I pretty much fail at being cool/hip/with it all of the time. I was just saying the people that I truthfully thought were admirable in their careers. Well, I got lucky for starting with Abe Lincoln -- apparently he was a pretty common answer, so they didn't make me explain too much why I admired him. I said that I had a historical crush on him, not just because of his politics and rhetoric (yes, rhetoric can be sexy) but also because I thought he was handsome. Probably not the best thing to reveal that you're crushing on a man that died 1.25 centuries before you were born, but I sometimes (always) say really dumb things. Ice-T was harder to explain -- its difficult to discuss the merits of gangsta rap with a bunch of counselors. It's like trying to explain to Rush Limbaugh why abortion was a really awesome idea, I would get nowhere except possibly smacked in the mouth. But then I told them that he was the guy on Law and Order SVU, which they accepted as a suitable reason.
Keith Richards was even harder to explain to them -- the counselor even asked, "now how on earth could admire this man?" I suppose that they had this image of me, the failed product of the parochial school system, in my plaid uniform and saddle shoes laying down to worship at the feet of the dark lord of rock and roll to offer myself as his sacrificial virgin. He would be sitting on gold throne in a cloud of cigarette smoke and drenched in Jack Daniels, and decide that I was fit to be his consort. Immediately, he would shoot me up with heroin and cocaine, and I would start having lots of sex. Actually, that doesn't sound too bad a fate for me. But anyway.... I told them that Keith has been at the top of his profession for skill and originality for years, very much admired not only for his music, but also because he fought against his demons, winning the battle with drug addiction. And then I asked why they didn't like him -- was it because they didn't like his music, or because they were holding his prior problems (i.e. possibly snorting his dad, et al) against him. And then I said that a certain higher power wouldn't like that, because can't a man redeem himself? Isn't that what's it all about in the end?

I think Keith is fantastic. He probably has the best wardrobe of any rock star. With a penchant for skull rings, scarves, black leather pants, scruffed up boots, leopard print, and really great tee shirts -- he's like a pirate-cowboy-rocker-gypsy God. And I would gladly lay myself down at the feet of his throne, if he'll have me.