Saturday had been filled with Drysi’s schemes and Morgause’s shenanigans. Anne and I had been up pretty late the night before, mostly because she had plans for Saturday and we wouldn’t be getting together. So I’d figured on an evening of light studying, followed by an early bedtime. But after the Grail and I finished for the day, I realized that it was a perfect time to do my assigned second radio appeal with a pseudo-scientific attempt at a control. At least it was the same day, and roughly same time, as it had been before.
In my typically Bradley fashion, I hadn’t given it more than five minutes of thought since The Boomer and I had discussed it. So once again I had to wing it.
Bob Fletcher and Friendly Freddy were hard at it when I got there, but they welcomed me like an old friend.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, back by popular acclaim, here is Brad Schuster,” Friendly Freddy rattled off as soon as I was settled. “Thousands of you responded last time to his formula for happiness by tapping the karma of cosmic convergence. We here at KTRU are sitting on the edge of our seats, eager for the wisdom that is about to pour from his lips, as I’m sure you are, whatever you’re doing and wherever you’re doing it.” He pointed at me with one hand and switched my mike on with the other.
“Two cosmic convergences in the same month is an event of such random significance as to bring tears to the eyes of astrological statisticians,” I began, mentally slapping The Cup and saying Stop that at her irreverent trifling. “But today, instead of the dreamlike fulfillment we had a couple of weeks ago, compliments of Venus and Saturn, today it is the interstellar kookiness of Uranus and Beetlejuice. And frankly, brothers and sisters, the episode won’t be altogether pleasant. But cosmic convergence is something to be seized and experienced, regardless of such banal considerations as pleasure.
“So take out a three by five index card, or any reasonable facsimile thereof, and write three profane words on it. FCC regulations prohibit me from giving examples, but by all means be creative. When you stand and curse the universe, you should never be ordinary.
“Stick in a buck so you’ll have some personal commitment, and send the whole thing to this address.” I gave out my brand new post office box.
“Your curses will come back to you multiplied, as your dollars did last week. Perhaps you will inherit a million dollars, and suffer the curse of being rich. Perhaps you will get a raging zit on the end of your nose just in time for your big date next weekend. Or something as benign as an old lady cursing you in the grocery story for taking the last tomato. But don’t let the consequences deter you. Be brave. Spit in the eye in the sky, and let the hailstones fall where they will.”
I signed off and turned the show back over to Friendly Freddy. He wasn’t nearly as upbeat when I left as he’d been the week before, waving goodbye with an air of grim determination. Perhaps he was thinking how best to launder out the bowl of spaghetti that I had dumped on the tidy white shirt of his radio program.
The idea of spaghetti made me hungry, so I bicycled to the village and had some made by a chef instead of coming out of a can. Then a little light studying and an early bedtime.