Brain Warranties
How would you accessorize your brain if you could trade it in for a new one this holiday season?
Dear Reader,
Holy shit. I still have a newsletter?
I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…
I honestly forgot I wrote a newsletter for a minute.
I happened to remember just now, after brewing my third cup of coffee and staring out the window for a short spell. I watched the palms gently sway with a humid winter’s breeze, eavesdropping on the group of crows that gossip at the neighboring pine trees. I pondered what I should do with my day and, by extension, my entire life.
That existentialism brought me back here, as it so often does, to the Elephant Graveyard.
Folks, I went on a bit of a bender last week.
Count it up. 50+ adult beverages over three days in a dozen bars here in St. Pete, Florida, US of A.
Two of my good friends visited me from faraway places — Bill, from Groningen, the Netherlands, and Ally, from the equally foreign Englewood, Florida. We couldn’t not go out binging. Now, days later, my brain still feels like an iPhone after receiving the entire script of 2007’s Bee Movie over iMessage — befuddled, tired, shutting down.
Much like the screenplay text trend, which I used to cripple many a friend’s Apple gadget in high school, the days-long bender was fun, but may have permanently damaged my firmware. I don’t necessarily regret it. It gave me quite a few laughs, there’s incriminating photos to look back on, and I wound up disassociating inside of a Hooter’s.
What more could you want?
A warranty on my brain, perhaps.
You see, I’m still extremely tired, days after Bill and Ally departed. Like one does with a broken smart phone, I wish I could upload the entire contents of my skull to an external hard drive, then donate my useless brain and purchase a replacement mind at the Genius Bar.
Perhaps this time I’d reinvent myself. I could use some extra storage for my terrible memory, or the optical equivalent of a better camera lens. Lord knows I need to shell out for some surplus RAM in the hopes that it triples my brain capacity.
That got me thinking, as most terrible ideas do, that this metaphor would be a hilarious idea for a newsletter. And, as I’ve done with several of my terrible, hilarious ideas, I’m going to share it with you now on this groggy, sluggish day.
Elephant Graveyard presents: Apple Accessories for the Drunken Mind.
Privacy Screens
A privacy screen for the Drunken Mind would work similarly to the Belkin InvisiGlass Ultra Privacy Screen Protection for iPhone. It would allow you to operate clearly and privately without the risk of anyone around you knowing what you’re up to.
In essence, it would allow you to lie to bartenders and bouncers about how many beers you’ve had in order to avoid getting thrown out of bars or clubs. That would have been helpful when, in London, a bouncer at the door of a club asked me, “How many beers you’ve had, big man?” and I lied and said, “Just two Heinekens,” and he asked, “How long ago, big man?” and I stared at my watch for a while before he just let me in.
With the privacy screen for the Drunken Mind, one can confidently say none, and not subsequently trip down the stairs en route to the basement bar, as I did in London.
Upgradeable Storage
This is what I was talking about earlier when I talked about RAM. When out drinking, I need my mind to operate as swiftly as my MacBook does when I force it to simultaneously and seamlessly play Benny Sings on Spotify, receive messages on Discord, WhatsApp, and Messenger, and keep my 20 tabs on Chrome open — ranging from the Elephant Graveyard to a George Saunders story to a paused episode of Succession — all while I lose matches as the manager of Tottenham Hotspur on FootballManager2022.
It’s important that the Drunken Mind operates efficiently while consuming further beverages. One needs to answer a litany of questions while out on the town. Responses to these questions can be crucial to a good night out.
For example:
What date was I born?
When carded, I usually tell bartenders, “Yeah, I’m 21,” to confirm that I can legally drink. This gives them them quite a shock when they read my ID and find that I’m 25. Don’t do this.
Where am I from?
Well, I mean, I’m from Philly, but not like that Philly, like the suburbs, but not too suburban. Delco, but not that Delco. Not Mare of Easttown Delco. Westtown Delco, technically. Although that’s in Chesco. Upper Darby born and raised. Well, not raised. Like, just born. Where Tina Fey’s from! But raised in West Chester. No, not New York. Where Bam Margera was from! But Delco, not Chesco.
What was the name of that TV show I really liked that no one else would like but I have to recommend it to this guy at the bar?
It’s, uhm, it’s the one about the British guy, the guy who’s a voice actor, he plays the guy from the vampires show, not the romance show but the other show, uhhhhh —
When did the 76ers last win the title?
1983. I will never forget that stat. Fo’ fi’ fo’.
AppleCare Hangover Protection
I highly encourage you to purchase AppleCare for the Drunken Mind in order to do what I’m dreaming of doing right now — trading in your brain that still hasn’t recovered from Saturday night by the middle of next week.
Otherwise, when you ask for the new brain, it’s going to be full-price out of pocket. And with inflation? Sheesh. Have you seen the price of lumber?
Portable Charger
To avoid that potential sleepiness when the Drunken Mind shuts down in the Uber after eating those nachos at the bar that you promised would totally not clock you out. That way, you can just plug in, stay up until 5 a.m., and go for a jog with the sunrise like you didn’t garnish a Jäger Bomb with Slim Jims last night.
LifeProof Case
Need I say more?
Unfortunately, this is all a distant fantasy to think of fondly as I look out the window at my writing desk.
I know this. I accept this.
If there really was a donation for used brains, mine would be rejected on the spot. It would be like that classic Seinfeld scene where, after Elaine starts a shop that only sells the tops of muffins, an employee from the homeless shelter confronts her for only donating the bottoms of muffins.
“I know what you thought,” the offended employee says. “‘They don’t have homes, they don’t have jobs. What do they need the top of a muffin for? They’re lucky to get the stumps!’”
Any shelter in the Tampa Bay area would doubtless think the same should I donate my brain:
What do we need this guy’s brain for? He needs three cups of coffee to send mediocre newsletters? He hasn’t written one since Thanksgiving! And it was all about smoking turkey cigarettes!
To which I’d respond by gloating that the turkey cigarettes newsletter received a whopping one hundred individual readers, thank you very much.
No, seriously. Thank you very much.
The garbageman just arrived. I need to close the window and turn on the fan.
Until the next software update reboots my brain, I’m going to need that fourth cup of coffee. See you then.
Shouts out to…
Bill and Ally, for bending with me.
Shaun, the bartender at The Emerald, for politely kicking us out of his establishment at 3 a.m.
The former staff of Penn Med / current staff at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. Hi! I don’t know you, but I heard you enjoyed the ol’ newsletter. Thanks for reading. (And for saving children’s lives, I guess…)
Is the show the I.T. Crowd??? This is like my favorite type of brainteaser. I need to know. MY other guess is Flight of the Concords, but they're technically from New Zealand. I guess it could technically be Good Omens too if you're using "show" as a general term? Lmk!!!