The Gumbo Interview

Before Irish Gumbo went in to seclusion I was lucky enough to be interviewed by the legendary... interviewer. Much like a blind drunk Barbara Walters it wasn't long before I was sobbing uncontrollably and using my sleeves as hankies. Once he gets the answers he wants though, he's quick with a shoulder and a delicious single malt. Father, architect, poet laureate, investigative therapist...

Captain:

You ever have one of those moments where you do something or say something, and you immediately hear a voice in your head say “Oh, shit, what have I done?”

This may be one of those times. The toothpaste cannot be put back in the tube, we can’t unscramble the eggs, no way to make a cow out of a truckload of hamburger.

They say that “whom the gods would destroy, they would first make angry” but I think it really all starts with a simple question, yeah?

Come, let’s venture into the deep end…

QUERY 01 – CD INTG Feb. 09: You have studied the Sutras every day for years, your meditation discipline has been noted by the Pramukha, who seems pleased. But your ass really hurts from sitting on the cold stone floor and enlightenment has eluded you. The Pramukha summons you before him. He smiles and from the low shelf behind his desk he takes a large glass jug containing a live goose. He holds it out to you and says “Samanera, I ask you this: How do you get the goose out of this jug alive without breaking the jug or harming the goose?” You look at him and say…?

"First off, how the fuck did you get that goose in there? Second, what would the Buddha think of what you've done to this poor goose? Does the Eightfold Path mean nothing to you? Pramukha my ass. My sore, frozen ass. No offense to the temple, but I've decided to study the ways of the Force and become a Jedi, like my father before me."
"Your father was a Jedi?" asks the Pramukha. I notice a slight change in his voice and the room suddenly feels colder.
"What? Ok, not really, but it sounded good."
"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to leave, Samanera," the old man chuckled. Were his eyes always that shade of yellow? Outside, the stomp of boots filled the air. Somehow I didn't think the monks were coming with their begging bowls.
"Sith bastard!" I turn on my light sabre beneath my cloak hoping for an extra moments surprise and thrust it towards the leering "Prumukha." I manage to catch him off guard but his reflexes are so fast that I only manage to pierce his thigh as he rolls backwards off his pillow. Lightning flashes from his left hand and the bottled goose explodes into a cloud of glass and feathers. The paneled doors burst open revealing dozens of blaster armed "monks." Without looking I use the Force to push the men away from the entrance so I can focus my attention on the Sith. As the Prumukha and I circle each other warily he withdraws two light sabres of his own from the deep folds of his robes. Their red glow deepens his evil visage. "Impressive, Padawan, but you are only prolonging the inevitable."
"Did I achieve enlightenment, Pramukha?" I ask innocently, positioning myself so my back is towards the inner courtyard.
"What?"
"I freed the goose by making you get him out."
"But like you, he didn't get out alive," growled the Sith.
The bloodied goose carcass now lay at my feet. I winked at the Sith and kicked the body at his head then back flipped out of his chambers to the courtyard a floor below.



Query 02 – CD INTG Feb. 09: On those days where life has its claws sunk in deep, and you can feel that last straw starting to crack, what is it that keeps you from completely losing your shit and running out (or should I say ‘oot’, to go Canadian on you?) the door and never come back?

I like to go on a Spirit Quest. This generally involves walking north onto the tundra for days on end until I find a polar bear. We then fight under the heavenly glow of the aurora borealis until one or both of us lies broken and bleeding in the snow. Then we share a bottle of fermented seal's milk and laugh at the universe until we pass out. I usually wake up a few days later in Tuktoyaktuk wearing only a wolf skin and a foppish grin. That always clears my head.

Oh, and I'VE NEVER SAID 'OOT' IN MY WHOLE FREAKIN' LIFE! It's a standard Canadian joke, but I think it's limited to a very small number of Ontarians. I remember meeting one in Germany once and me and my buddies all shied away from him like he was a leper. Or he'd just walked in with his sister under one arm and a banjo under the other.


Query 03 – CD INTG Feb. 09: Do clocks really matter to you?

I love clocks. I love watches. I love the atomic clock. I love the fact that there is an atom that pulses once every 60 seconds and can track time perfectly. I love leap year's and the fact that the Earth doesn't revolve at a perfect 365 days and has to be adjusted every four years. I love that there are people out there smart enough to figure this shit out. I love that they did this a long long time ago. I love clocks. That doesn't mean I'll ever remember my oldest son's class lets out a half hour early on Fridays though. The run keeps me in shape.


Query 04 – CD INTG Feb. 09: You have been given the singular opportunity to perform in concert at a major criminal detainment facility, as an outreach to the allegedly dangerous folks incarcerated therein. Where would you perform, what instrument and song(s) would you play, and why?

I would play a joint concert for the Valley State Prison for Women and the Central California Women's Facility which are across the street from each other and are "possibly the largest women’s prison complex in the world." I would play a carefully thought out mixture of hard core German thrash metal and Celine Dion favourites. My instrument would be the pan flute, 'cause I think chics dig it.


Query 05 – CD INTG Feb. o9: Mayonnaise – tongue-worthy condiment or hurl-inducing abomination?

Spinach and artichoke dip, aïoli, Thousand Island dressing, etc etc etc. Ok, I just checked the recipe for artichoke dip and apparently mayonnaise is not one of the ingredients. Still, I'd give a finger for some right now. Also, in Denmark, they serve their hot dogs with this weird kind of mayo that just SO WORKS. Seriously, last meal, that would be on my list.

Now that I stop and think of it though, I'm not actually thinking of mayonnaise, but Miracle Whip. Hmm. Well, it's still good for making other things with. Of course, it's not Thai peanut sauce which I would happily eat on road kill or say, your arm. Mmm, peanut sauce...


And with that the blinding light was turned off, I was untied from the chair and blindfolded again. His hench... assistants could have been a little gentler throwing me into the back of their van or when they dropped me off in a back alley, but I won't complain. After all, I did cheat my way into winning the interview in the first place. Had I known I'd be coming home missing a kidney though...