Dharma Tramp: A Prelude

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Click Here to listen. (20 min/mp3)

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This short piece is dedicated to the real Dick - you know who you are.

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Freya was sitting at the counter of the coffee shop; the show hadn't started yet. She was there with Dick, and that night would be the first time she'd read any of her stuff aloud in front of any audience. Of course, being new to the game, she was the opening act. Chain smoking and trying to swallow her nervousness, Freya ordered another mocha and stared at the words in front of her. The blue spiral notebook on the counter was crammed with feverish scribbles and photocopies of musings from zines that had been paperclipped to the lined pages. When her drink arrived, she turned to Dick.

"So I'm guessing they run on punk rock standard time at coffee shops in Milwaukee, too." She scowled at the bright summer sun, still shining brightly even though dinner time had come and gone.

"Yep. Don't worry, just breathe. You'll be fine. You're reading some great pieces," Dick reassured her. He gave her a hug and wandered off to find out whether the show would be commencing anytime soon. Freya's frazzled energy was disconcerting; he wanted her to be able to hurry up and get this first performance over, see that it was no big deal.

Dick returned a few minutes later. The sound guy had finally shown up, so they were just about ready to get started. Freya downed the rest of her mocha, took a deep breath, and then slid off of her stool. She was as ready as she'd ever be. The girl made her way to the stage, where she talked with the apologetic guy who operated the PA system. He asked her to test the mic, so she walked up to it and introduced herself to the crowd.

"Hey folks," she began, "I'm Freya, a traveling zine geek from Boston. I'm here with Dick, who I know most of you are here to see. So if you can just bear with me for a few minutes, he'll be up when I'm done. This is my first show, so please be gentle."

She smiled at the small crowd and backed away from the mic, waiting for the sound guy to give her the go ahead. He tweaked a few levels on the sound board and gave her a thumbs up. So nervous that she shook a bit, Freya stepped back up to the microphone and lit a cigarette. After a slight pause, she opened her notebook and began to read.

"The world is broken. I'm broken, and so are you... and you, over there in the corner. It's impossible to live in this fucked up, insane world and make it out in one piece. Some of us don't know we're broken, and that's ok - good for you. I wish I could live in that sort of ignorant bliss. But I can't. Of course, not all of my days are bitchy ones like today. I have my good days too. I just never forget that we're all doomed. I've heard all the lines, all of the excuses... We're smart, we have technology, we'll figure out a way to make things right. But at what cost? And I'm not talking dollars and cents or yen or rubles here...For one, Mother Nature is pissed. How could she be happy seeing a world where her human children kill one another over things like money, oil and power? How could she smile upon us, people, when so many of us are so blind to the suffering of her other creations? The chickens in factory farms, with their too-close quarters, too many missing feathers, broken and bloody beaks? The newborn cows in their boxes and cages so small that they can't even turn around, all in the name of fattening them up for the slaughter and transformation of their tender flesh into the veal that sits on the dinner plates of so many of the fat and wealthy among us? How could Mother Nature be proud of us when so many of us hate for no reason? Race wars, bigotry, planetary destruction - wouldn't you be pissed off if that's what your children were responsible for?"

She paused, giving her audience a moment to think about the question she'd asked of them. Then she continued.

"If your answer is no, then my stories may not be for you. They're not intended for the faint or closed of heart."

"But I digress for now. I don't want to scare most of you off just yet."

"Mine are tales of lust, love, and life... of travel, gain, loss... of simple pleasures and certain things that some of you want to think only go bump in the night. It may not be pretty, but it's mine and I've learned a few things along the way. This is the beginning of a long, winding journey. So pull up a chair, get yourself a beer or a cup of coffee, and witness the broken beauty of a life that isn't your own."

Freya paused a moment before flipping her notebook to the next page. When the audience's applause roared in her ears and she noticed a handful of folks moving their seats closer to the stage, she knew she'd chosen the right pieces to read. Her lips curled into a slow smile. This really wasn't so hard after all.

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