Ian Frazier - Cranial Fracking

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To Mark Singer

Keeping a dream journal is also said to promote better recall and to train people to identify signs that indicate they are dreamingchatting with the deceased, floating cars, talking skeletons.

The New York Times

Ill have a Rudys Special, No. 3, the talking skeleton said to the man behind the deli counter. Then he turned to me. Can you believe those Mets? the talking skeleton asked. Have you ever seen such a pathetic choke in your entire life? The talking skeletons teeth made a kind of clacking sound as he talked, and his nose holes had some not-yet-decomposed cartilage hanging from them, and a single ant was walking around the inside of one of his eye sockets, counterclockwise.

Normally, Im a bit shy about talking to people, much less to skeletons fresh from the grave, so I just nodded in agreement. But then I couldnt help adding, Dont blame Willie Randolph, though! (Ive always liked Willie, since back before he was the Mets manager, when he was a kid playing for the Yankees.)

The talking skeleton jumped on my remark like it was a slow roller to third. Absolutely not! the talking skeleton said, with some heat. No way is that fold-o Willies fault! But you know who I do blame? He leaned his talking-skeleton headhis skull, technicallyclose to me.

Talking skeletons always look cheerful, with that grinning skull-mouth they have, but dont let that fool youthey can get really mad. Rickey Henderson! the talking skeleton almost yelled, clackingly. I blame Rickey Henderson! Then the skeleton went on about what a dumb idea it was for the Mets to hire Henderson as a base-running coach, especially after the incident back in 99, when he played cards in the clubhouse, and so on.

At this point, I was starting to wonder how a talking skeleton was going to eat a Rudys Special, No. 3, anyway. Its delicious, but its like a chicken parmesan patty on a roll, with melted cheese and sauce on top. I could imagine long ropes of melted cheese getting stuck on the talking skeletons many sharp surfaces and creating quite a mess. But, hey, he wants a No. 3, thats his business.

Now the talking skeleton was leaving. At the door, he turned and intoned, skeleton-like, It was the worst collapse in the entire history of organized baseball! Then he clattered out.

Quite honestly, I had begun to think I was dreaming.

Somehow, I didnt feel hungry enough for a No. 3, so I just ordered a liverwurst on rye with lettuce and mustard, and a Diet Coke. Just then, my cell phone started vibrating in my pocket. I took it out and saw that the call was from Jawaharlal Nehru, the late prime minister of India, calling from Mumbai. Better take that call.

Jawaharlal, buddy, I said, fumbling for the bills to pay for my sandwich. How goes it? Did you see the game?

Just then, the talking skeleton came back in. Is that Nehru? he asked. Let me talk to him when youre done.

I nodded my head and held up one finger, indicating that he could have the phone in a minute.

most certainly did see the game, Nehru was saying. I watched all but the ninth inning on the small-screen TV in my invisible floating limousine. Nehru, in case youve forgotten, was elected president of the Indian National Congress six times, and became Indias prime minister in 1947, helping the country through its difficult early years of independence while scouting for the old Milwaukee Braves. He proceeded to give me, and then the talking skeleton, an earful about the failures of the Mets front office, coming down particularly hard on the assistant general manager, Tony Bernazard, whom he accused of undercutting Willie every chance he (Bernazard) got.

A vague sense of disquiet began to steal over me. What, I wondered, could the Mets have done differently last season? And why was I wearing only underpants? True, the weather had been unusually warm for October, and anyone as upset as I had been about the Mets catastrophic disgrace could hardly be expected to pay much attention to clothes. Still, I wished that I had thought to bring a robe or a towel along, and that Lastings Milledge had run out one or two more ground balls. To add to that, the entire delicatessen and all the people in it had begun to plummet through space at an alarming rate, going down in a giant vortex-whirlpool thing that was kind of a dark green at the outer edges and became a blinding white the closer you got to the center, making it even harder to concentrate.

The answer, I think, is training. Each of us has a job to do. The Mets have to go back to good, hard, solid, fundamental baseball and focus on doing the little things right. That means not trying to steal third with two men out, Mr. Jos Reyes! And, as for me, I have got to start being more conscientious about my dream journal. Ive been letting that slide, I admit. With a little discipline and training and the help of my journal, Ill be able to recognize the important signs. Talking skeleton equals dream. Chatting with the dead: dream. Floating cars (or any other normally earthbound vehicle): dream. Mets losing first place to the Phillies on the last day of the season: reality. Once I hone those reactions until theyre second nature so that I dont even have to think about them, Ill be better off.

I feel sorry for people who still think of their places in terms of square feet. My partner, Scott, and I recently purchased Wyoming, which we are in the process of having renovated, and, yes, I do know the square footage (something like two trillion seven hundred and thirty billion square feet, give or take). But thats just not a very practical type of measurement when were dealing with all the plumbers and contractors and security staff and reporters and other non-wealthy service personnel we have to give instructions to. Nowadays, everybody involved in redoing substantial properties like ours uses Global Transverse Mercator Units (GTMUs), which you get off a satellite feed. GTMUs, weve found, are much more accurate for detail work like wainscoting, and are able to deal with vast alkali flats and so on, too.

Basically, we are looking at this purchase as a teardown. Theres really not a lot here youd want to keep, except one or two of the Wind River Mountains and some old 1920s Park Service structures in Yellowstone. Scott and I bought for the locationits convenient to anywhere, really, if you think about itand for the simplicity of line. We wanted someplace rectangular, a much easier configuration from a design point of view, and we wont have to fuss with panhandles and changeable riverine property lines where were going to get into disputes with the landowner next door. Spare us the headaches, please! Weve had plenty already, with the former occupants (thank heavens theyre gone) and all the junk they left behindthe old broken-down pickup trucks, houses, eyesore water towers, uranium mines, the University of Wyoming, Yellowtail Dam, Casper. Im a thrower-outer. I believe we must first clear everything away, then see what weve got. Scott is more sentimental. He thinks we should leave the North Platte River, for example, and work around it. I havent said yes or no. Im secretly hoping he changes his mind.