Why does my night head insist on plaguing me with random weirdnesses? Ziggy Stardust is the current Tormenter – more specifically the second verse – more specifically the words
Like a cat in Japan
It’s driving me mental. I’ll have spent a lovely night, perhaps watched a film, perhaps absorbed the pages of some book, probably discussed something interesting with The Love and off will go the lights and the Cat will be Back.
I can see it, that damn Cat, it’s one of those Good Luck ones with the arm that goes up and down, Waving. Hi-ey! Good Luck! In fact I think it’s a Chinese good luck cat, not even a Japanese one, which only makes it all the more infuriating. Sometimes it’s Hello Kitty and once it was even a street cat hopping mangily across the bin lids of Tokyo. But the Japanese/Chinese one from the restaurant window always trumps any of the above, returning to wave its awful little ceramic arm in time to the Ziggy song, and preventing me from sleep.
And just when the Cat is satisfied it’s annoyed me enough, in will step:
‘With God-given a-ass...’
And I can see Ziggy’s ass in a tight pair of jeans on stage. And then Bowie, all painted. And then those images alternate with the Cat until the sun comes up.
I rolled over yesterday morning and broached the subject with The Love.
“That CAT from Ziggy Stardust has EATEN MY SLEEP!!!”
“You know, the cat in Japan.”
“I imagine he means one of those Good Luck cats,” I said, waving my arm mechanically up and down.
The Love laughed. “It’s not a real cat he’s talking about. It’s a cool cat – Ziggy - he’s cool, he can really play guitar, he has cool hair - like some cat in Japan.”
“Oh,” I said, grateful, and feeling confident that his image would make my Cat go away. I could almost see it – the cool cat Ziggy, with his ass, on stage, swaggering.
And then last night, for the first night in about a week the song didn’t come, nor the Cat, nor the Ass, nor even Bowie’s silver lightning bolt face and I was so grateful when I woke up for the good night’s sleep that I lay there feeling a great sense of peace. And then, as if to congratulate me, there it was, the Good Luck Cat. The Song. Argh! And I lay there comatose, the song playing over and over. I resigned myself to the fact that Ziggy Stardust was going to play in my head for the rest of my life, accompanied by the image of a stupid Cat. Why me? I wondered. What did I do to deserve this? And then suddenly it occurred to me - maybe the Cat had been sent for a reason, via Ziggy. To bring me Good Luck? I lay there and tried to feel that. And I took the Good Luck in. I thanked the Cat. And then I politely asked that he and Ziggy leave.
But they didn’t.
Defeated, eating breakfast with The Love I asked, “What’s the song that gets rid of the songs again?”
“I feeeel good, dernernernernernerner. I knew that I would now- dernernernernernerner,” he answered, getting up and performing an empassioned dance in his socks and underpants.
And sure enough, the Cat went screeching away.
And now I can’t get ‘I Feel Good’ out of there, and the image of The Love sliding around the apartment in his smalls, gyrating wildly with his air guitar.Which, in any case, beats that Cat any day.