You ever notice that flies seem to have an innate ability to remain silently stealthy for hours until you are just about asleep. Then at the exact moment you enter that happiest of happy places, they leap into action and kamikaze dive bomb your face until you reach the point where you think it might actually be OK to burn the house down.
I know it’s almost summer when we set the air conditioner to penguin exhibit, spin up every ceiling fan in the house to launch speed, and yet it’s still 231 degrees in the upstairs bedroom. The official arrival of summer, however, occurs when I lay awake praying for a way to tell the flies to take the headbands off, drink some sake, the war is over. After the flies practice touch-and-go landings on my cheek and forehead a few times, not asleep, yet not fully awake, the random thought generator is switched on and I’m haunted by a re-occurring thought: Man, I hate Jeff Goldblum.
When I think of flies, I think of that stupid movie The Fly starring Jeff Goldblum. Then I wonder if the fly I want to smash so badly with a hammer could actually be Jeff Goldblum, a tragic victim of a DNA teleporting goof who is desperately trying to get my attention to call Gina Davis for help. Then that thought leads me to wonder if Goldblum is a Jewish name. If I kill Jeff Goldblum, even though he’s dive bombed my face yet again, I’ll probably get charged with a hate crime. How can I kill the fly and avoid going away for life? Then I remember Jeff Goldblum tried to kill Danny Glover in the movie Silverado. If I tell Mr. Glover’s buddy, Mel Gibson, that a guy named Goldblum tried to kill Roger from Lethal Weapon, well, we’ve all heard the audio tapes. Gibson is likely to go crazy and kill Goldblum for me. Problem solved, until I remember that I don’t have Mel or Danny’s number, and no one has heard from Gina Davis for a couple decades or so.
That’s when I hear Goldblum coming in on another strafing run, and begin to wildly swat at the air, managing to miss the fly, but giving myself a bloody nose. Man, I hate Jeff Goldblum. Then I remember that Goldblum was in the Big Chill. Naturally, that leads me to the little known fact that Kevin Costner played the dead guy in that movie. You can’t think of Costner without thinking of Dances with Wolves and tatonka. Tatonka is a silly sounding word for buffalo. Speaking of silly, what if a buffalo and a rooster had babies? Would they be called Bu-Oosters or Roofallos? Whatever they would be called, they would probably be misunderstood. You know another animal that was badly misunderstood was the T-Rex. I don’t think the T-Rex was really that mean. They got a bad rap from being angry at having such big heads and ridiculously short arms. Thank goodness the T-Rex is extinct. Hopefully no one figures out a way to bring those things back to life like they did in Jurassic Park, which starred Jeff Goldblum.
The attack is relentless, and I wonder will I ever fully wake up? Will I ever sleep again? Will I ever see a movie not made in the 80’s and 90’s? Will I ever be free of this pestilence? Will I have an Independence Day? By the way, the movie Independence Day starred Will Smith, Bill Pullman, and yes, Jeff Goldblum.
Man, I hate Jeff Goldblum.