Dear Mister Fantasy...

I know this Traffic song has nothing to do with children. At least I hope a bunch of late 60s psychedelic rockers were staying away from children with song titles like "No Face No Name No Number", "House For Everyone", and the telling counter-culture title-- "Dealer". I've heard "Dear Mr. Fanatsy" at least 1,000 times without paying much attention to the lyrics. However, I've always thought it was cool that Steve Winwood was a teenager when he sang this song, but that it's almost like he maxed out too early--fading away until the semi-redemptive 80s mega-pop hit, "Higher Love". I'd say his best work was long done at that point. I suppose it's an efficient life practice to reach your pinnacle at 18 years of age, but then its a long road back to earth from there. For the rest of us--it's all a marathon. Our greatest moments are to come.

That's it. I wouldn't have thought anymore about it until the other night when neither the EGB or I could sleep. We got out of our respective cribs. Walked over to the living room. Turned the lamp on low. Cracked the blinds for a view of the stars and hit play on "Mr. Fantasy".

"Dear Mister Fantasy play us a tune
Something to make us all happy
Do anything take us out of this gloom
Sing a song, play guitar
Make it snappy

You are the one who can make us all laugh
But doing that you break out in tears
Please don't be sad if it was a straight mind you had
We wouldn't have known you all these years"

I could tell EGB was really digging the tunes, but had a faraway gaze fixed in her eyes. Then she turned to me and said,

EGB: Sometimes I feel like I'm your Mr. Fantasy. Brought here to be your source of happy.

Me: Really, but you don't even play guitar?

EGB: I know. It doesn't matter. You and your fellow adults are always looking for something outside of you to make you happy.

Me: Aren't we all?

EGB: Yes, in some ways, but us children are a renewable bank account of happy. We emanate the happy. We dispense it all day and eventually run out until the next deposit. It's our currency. You adults are always looking for some happiness from us. We share it. You consume it--you want it snappy. I don't mind giving...In fact, I don't even think about it much, but know that I'll make you laugh and in doing so, I'll break out in tears. If you adults would just find more of this happy in yourselves and stop "robbing" us--maybe we'd all cry less.

Me: That's heavy, man. Heavy.

EGB: Yeah it is. I know you don't know any better. That's why I'm telling you.

Me: Thanks. Want a cookie?

We ate cookies and drank milk long into the dark night........Like I said--it's a marathon. EGB is just helping me stay in shape.

Hot dang! It's a Jewish Little Richard! And her sidekick--Ariya the Flower Child. Goodness gracious great balls of macaroons!!!