A UNIVERSAL APPEAL
"Liberals always know what to name things. To them, graffiti vandals are ghetto expressionists."
Andrew Vachss

1. Groupie in the Night

Somewhere past Omaha I woke. I knew it was Omaha because Tane was shouting "It's Omaha!" in my ear; I lifted my fist but he fell back to heavy unconsciousness before I got the chance to pummel him. Since I was awake, alone and beyond the reach of any stimulant that might have made the passing night scenery somewhat interesting, I walked up front to Dan and tried to focus on the highway through the greasy bus window.

"Man, you were out," he said, gulping the last of his Yoo-hoo.

"Yeah, you guys carry me on?" I asked, still trying to clear my head. Freaking same stretch of thin white line I had seen every night for the past week; how Dan drove this shit I'd never know.

"More like dumped you. What happened with that broad?" he asked. "That must have been one great fu..." his expletive was lost in a deep pothole.

"Yeah, I guess," I replied, as the bus returned to Earth.

Truth be told, I couldn't remember all that much about the night's recent, post-concert activities...let alone one detail about the 'broad' Dan was referring to. I simply woke up here on the bus and was now having this conversation with my bearded driver. Through the years there have been plenty of women I have forgotten, even more I forget I have forgotten. Nothing to worry about, I knew. Fact was, I was lucky to be walking around with what little mind I had. If I didn't remember the afore mentioned woman...hey, "that's dem breaks in rock and roll".

"It's at least two hours until we land boss," Dan said, reaching to the big red cooler at his side for another Yoo-hoo.

The thick brown liquid was the big guy's crack when he drove; a sweet substitute for the two sixes he usually devoured in a half an hour.

"Yeah, wake me when we pull in," I said, climbing back to my warm seat and Tane's Darth Vader impersonation.

"Man, that was some red dress," Dan added, just before I closed the curtain on the front compartment. With these last words my memory opened up. As I lay back in the recliner, it all came flooding back.

I wish it hadn't. *

"I loved the show," she purred and moved within a guitar pick's distance towards me; I'm sure of the measurement since I was holding a guitar pick out in front of me to halt her advance!

She had deftly serpentined her way backstage, through the hangers-on and hopefuls, some press and the crew, so quickly that there was no indication that she had passed through the tight crowd at all. I'm pretty good at "spotting" as my crew and I call it; there is never an attractive female within a mile radius that I don't notice. I hadn't been aware of this beauty though until she stood right in front of me. But whether I was slipping or she was an hallucination, I'm not fond of overzealous fans, so that's why the guitar pick.

"Thank you," I replied. I smelled strawberries, or was it lilacs, or was it...Fuck-it, who cared!

Off to the side of my vision I saw my road-crew disperse and before I could tell if I was stepping backwards or if she was pushing me, we were alone in a corner of the room, pushed between a small catering table and a waist-high rolling road case.

"I loved your set especially," she continued and this time I had the chance to inhale the whole breathtaking vision before me...and she was breathtaking.

She stood about my five-foot eight height, maybe a half an inch less...but I really didn't care to measure. She had light blue eyes, which stared at me from a creamy milk complexion, a strong thin nose and full red lips that retained a distracting pout even though she was talking. Below her chin I dared not look since I was sure that this startling pretty face was merely an illusion and would disappear if I moved my gaze.

"I wore this for you," she said and moved back two steps...so much for not looking below her chin.

There are times in a man's life when he stares into the face of Heaven on this Earth and knows there is a God...this was not one of those times.

I looked her up and down and simply thought of the Devil.

Starting from bottom to top (as did my gaze) her legs ended someplace in the fold of her skirt...a fold that ended someplace near her waist. Taut, tan leg muscles seemed to whisper any number of interesting suggestions, as long thin calf became thick, well defined thigh. Her waist was just wide enough to give her a curve, her hips high. Up her short torso I came to two firm, high breasts, not more then a low numbered C-cup, but proud in their ability to stand straight out from her body unencumbered by a bra. Her dress ended on a slight 'V neck' over her slight v neck. I saw no seam, button, zipper, clasp or snap in the entire scarlet creation.

"Um, I'm not really sure we can..." I tried, as she pushed me further backward and through a small dressing-room door. Marina and Jules came out as the pushiest groupie in the world, and I, tumbled in.

"Your people are very accommodating," she said, closing the single door behind her without turning; I hadn't seen her reach back, but who the hell cared for details at that moment!

I took a seat on a folding chair, doing a very good job of scattering an array of cosmetics and a few joints on the small vanity to the side of me.

"We will have sex now," the lady announced and stepped out of her dress. Like I said, no seam, button, zipper; the scarlet scarf simply opened and fell to her feet.

"It is held together by static electricity," she added, reading my mind.

"Oh," I said, ever the conversationalist when faced with a body as magnificent as hers.

"It is not of terran...Earth design," she added.

For some reason she wanted me to understand about the dress, which at that moment was my very last concern. My hands went to her soft hips as she walked into my sitting embrace.

"Despite what your eyes tell you, I am not the type of woman you are familiar with," she said, the very bottom of her powdery breasts touching my collar.

"I'm sure," I said, looking up at her.

"It is of the utmost urgency that you understand the importance of this meeting," she continued.

"I'm sure it is important," I said, cupping my hand around and down to her smooth bottom.

It was sure important to me!

"I have come to you this way so you can experience me as a human woman, so that your mind can make the jump it will need to make later."

"Um hum," I said, leaning in to kiss her flat pale belly-button.

"This will be the most important encounter of your life," she said, running her long fingers through my wet hair.

Humble, this girl wasn't!

"This is the only way we had to contact you," she continued, slowly sitting her hot bottom on my lap.

Whatever the hell she was going on about I figured I could at least give her a minute of my attention, especially if it got her to shut-up and down to business. Many a groupie has talked their way backstage. Whatever this girl's rap, I'd let her ramble for a few.

"What do you want to tell me?" I asked, as I had many a night before (unfortunately, a little less frequently then I would have liked on this tour).

"You are holding an alien woman in your arms, Mr. Franks. I am from a planet two hundred light years from here and I have come to save this planet, and mine as well, with your help," she exhaled, planted her full lips on mine, and...

..."I need a drink," Tane yelled and fell across me. Man, if he wasn't such a good drummer!

"Give me a grape soda," he screamed. "I want a fucking grape soda!"

The big guy pushed his hairy mitts in my face, stood straight and then ran back into the dark cabin for any object that closely resembled a grape soda. The remainder of the bus was up in a second. I lay back again and tried my damnedest to bring my memory back.

No use. It seemed I had had some sort of sexual encounter, only a few hours ago, with a rather stunning lady. It also seemed that this lady had had some rather startling information for me, something about her planet and Earth (of which she claimed she wasn't a native).

Well, beggars can't be chooses, I thought. Not the youngest of rock stars, I should be happy about any chick I picked-up back-stage, I thought. Still, it was upsetting that a girl that gorgeous was that loony-tunes. The thing that really bothered me though was that I couldn't remember the rest of the night. Hell, I wouldn't have even remembered her if Dan hadn't brought it up!

Shit, at least I thought I would keep my memory when everything else went! 2. Sound-check Convergence

As usual, the only thing working right was that nothing was working at all; a hundred percent, completely perfect, fuck-up. The problem with any big show is that there are hundreds of people trying to do their individual jobs and any one of them can screw-up at any given time and create a major cog in a major wheel. The problem with this particular show-and the whole two week tour-was that we had the same number of people, doing the same number of jobs, but to a much quicker speed. The busses pulled out of town literally as the band and I jumped from stage. In a normal concert situation there is simply no time for error, with this tour, the margin was lessened; nothing from nothing is still nothing.

We also had the added problem of being on a benefit tour. Even though the crew was being paid, there were those among them (especially among the local guys) that felt this cause less then worthy; I even had doubts in this regard. If I've learned nothing else in my less then glorious forty-four years, it is that desire is the key to everything. Where an extra turn would normally be given to a nut, or an extra roll of duct-tape bought, here we often found the smallest effort given to do a job. My stage monitors not working the next afternoon was just another in a whole host of annoying problems I had had to deal with so far.

I tried my best to not let the silence bother me and walked from the stage.

"I promise you Luke, they will work tonight," Andy shouted over the hammering, coming from a light scaffold a half a football field from me.

"They'd better man," I snapped, then quickly damned myself for it.

I had grown well past the point of the 'get-me-what-I-want-before-I-ask-for-it' rock-star attitude (not that anyone really jumped to get me what I wanted when I had tried to wear the attitude). Andy Kline had been with me for close to ten years and was probably the best road manager in the business. If Andy said the monitors would work, they would. The problem was that since I was the main attraction for these shows we were using my famed sound system. If the opening acts' sound screwed-up, it was ultimately my fault. And as hard an ass as I liked to think I was, I took this extra responsibility to heart. I remembered what it was like to go out and prove yourself every damn night; opening bands welcomed enough hell from the audience, they didn't need it from a P.A.!

"I left two passes for Angela and her father," Andy rambled on. We descended the rickety metal stairs at the back of the stage and I looked at the chubby man to my right. "Passes for who?" I asked. I was still a bit dizzy from the few seconds of sleep I had managed the night before. I was looking forward to my usual five o'clock cat nap.

"The passes for Angela and her fa..."

"Andy," I snapped again. I placed a hand on his forearm, breathed deep and continued: "What are you talking about?"

"Remember last night?" he began, putting a heavy arm around my dropping shoulders.

Andy always got buddy-buddy when he thought a circumstance was delicate. Years of dealing with nosy press and overzealous fans had taught him tactics of clandestine conversation I knew not needed right at that moment.

"You told me to get a pass for Angela for tomorrow, which is now tonight," Andy explained. "And you told me to have one for her dad as well."

"Man, was she ever a piece of ass," my road manager added and then broke from me. I watched Andy's broad back as he disappeared into the back-stage area, barking orders into his walkie-talkie.

"Get some sleep and don't worry 'bout a thing," he yelled over his shoulder. In a second he was completely swallowed into the arena.

Now I was pissed! *

I didn't sleep.

Even Sienfeld reruns couldn't induce the stupor I needed to recall the girl I now knew as Andrea. Something really weird had happened to me the night previous, something so far removed from normal carnal activity that I was either deliberately blocking the rest of the night from my mind, or Angela had been such a good lay she had literally "fucked my brains out" and my memory with it. I couldn't remember a damn thing beyond what I had in the bus, and I certainly didn't remember asking Andy to leave any passes. My heavy drinking days were long over and I hadn't touched a joint in two nights; I hated having memory lapses when they weren't chemically induced!

As I took a shower, I even allowed myself a few minutes of 'maybe-she-is-what-she-said-she-is' paranoia, but by the time I dried off, grabbed my bag and the front desk called to report the van was outside waiting, I had given up on this train of thought.

Our set was well oiled. My band and I had been on the road for six months before we received the offer to headline the "Home Is Where The Heart Lies" tour; our two hour set was a breeze from the usual three we performed when I was the only performer on the bill. By seven I was at the venue, seven-thirty to eight-thirty was the usual back-stage media bullshit, the next hour I spent with lucky contest winners, took some pictures with local homeless (some of whom I would have sworn were ex-band mates) and engaged in the typical useless idle chit-chat with representatives from the local shelters and food banks. The trouble with a tour like "Homeless" was that everyone assumed I knew so much about the cause when in actuality I had signed on because it sounded like a fun way to spend two weeks, perform a relatively shorter show, and maybe seem like a humanitarian to some people who hadn't yet bought my new album (it was still albums to me-so many years producing vinyl, my vocabulary wasn't yet up to date). At eleven my five man band and I took our final bow, huddled into the back-stage area to sign a few more flats and napkins and then moved into the dressing rooms to unwind with real friend, relatives and the crew. I opened the door, went to the cooler and ran right into Angela.

Same dress as the night before, but this night it was green. There was a short, gray-haired man at her right, with the same blue-green eyes as hers'. He held out his hand to me as I removed the towel from my shoulder.

"Great to meet you Luke," he said, taking my hand in a strong grip. His smile was hers, with just a little less pout. He was considerably older then his daughter, but there wasn't a wrinkle in his smiling wide face, not a laugh line or scar.

"And you," I said to him. "Nice to see you again, Angela," I said to the girl, emphasizing her name. She smiled and the room lit-up fifty watts.

"I know you have many questions," she began. "Daddy and I are here to answer them all for you."

Last thing I wanted was to be rude to the old guy. But I thought it best Angela and I didn't reminisce over too many details with dear old daddy around! I mean he looked rather liberal; his gray hair just sneaking over his high collar, his suit a sharp European cut, but still...

"Let's go somewhere and talk," Angela's father said.

'About what?' I thought, but said: "I'm really tired guys. We had a long ride in last night and tomorrow is that Pay Preview deal and I don't..."

"What we have to talk to you about is very important for that show tomorrow," the old guy persisted. He was still smiling but there was an intensity in his eyes that was matched by his daughters' as I turned to look at her.

"Luke, Angela told you something last night," he continued, now smiling.

"I really don't' believe, or care, about what she said last night," I added. "No offense, but she's a big girl and there are a lot of groupies and..."

"There was more to her story and she told it to you," the old guy interrupted me. "Your mind chose not to accept what my daughter had to say and you now have a memory lapse."

"Do I look that confused?" I asked, laughing to mask my uneasiness.

This guy knew a little too much about my state of mind, and my state of mind is not a thing people want to know too much (or anything) about.

"Look dad..." I began, quickly searching the small room for Tane and someone else big enough to help me if this got ugly. "...you're daughter came to me. I may have taken advantage of her being a little star-struck, but this is the way it is in rock and roll. I'm sorry but..."

"Luke," the old guy started again. "What you and Angela did last night is of no consequence whatsoever. What she told you is."

"I only need a half hour of your time to reiterate what my daughter told you," he added. He was smiling but his azure-aqua eyes were burrowing right through me. "It is of the utmost importance, I assure you!"

Yes, I considered the possibility of both of them being really nuts, Mark David Chapman-nuts, but I figured if they weaseled their way backstage, with passes I had never remembered promising, then they could easily do so every night of this tour. Might as well get this over with, I thought to myself. Besides, if Angela had wanted to do any real harm she would have done so already. And to be honest, with her amazing wardrobe, her dad's quirky smile and my memory lapse, I had to admit my interest was peaked.

Hell, I welcomed any diversion on tour!

"Meet me at the Red Roof Inn off 83, room twenty four, in about an hour," I said. "You can tell me all about spaceships, ESP, laser beams, anything you want. Just don't be offended when I finally get sick of you both and throw you out."

"This is a wise decision Luke," the old man said, and once again offered his strong handshake.

"Yeah, well. No offense to either of ya, but the quicker you tell me the all important news, the sooner I can get to sleep," I said, looked at Angela and added: "Not that I don't enjoy the little bit of what I do remember."

3. The Star Of The Show They were on time!

I had just managed a shower when there was knock at my door. In walked the father and daughter from Mars; I offered the remaining drinks I had, some pieces of fruit from the complimentary basket (all of which they politely refused), I sat on the bed, Angela next to me, and her father opposite in the short, leather-backed chair at the table to my right. My clock read one-thirty, but since we had a short private plane ride to the outdoor amphitheater that next afternoon (actually that afternoon) I'd get plenty of sleep...if they left no later then three. Yeah, I knew I was starting to sound like an old man, but dammit I was, and sleep is so precious on any tour.

"Luke, tell me what you remember," Angela's father began, leaning forward in his chair.

"It's all right Luke," Angela said, patting my hand. "He knows what happened."

"Do you two get into this type of thing often?" I asked.

In my two decades of touring I had been witness to many perverted sexual scenes, but never a father and daughter. I wasn't sure I had the energy for this.

"You humans never cease to amaze me," the old guy said, suddenly sitting back and laughing. Angela continued to pat my hand and chuckled also.

"Luke please," the old guy said, after recovering.

I was a bit pissed. I hated having missed a joke, especially when I had the distinct feeling the joke was about me.

"Luke. Luke. Luke," Angela said, still patting my hand. "You have not yet realized that we can read your mind."

"Huh?" I asked.

Yes, I am a silver-tongued devil at times of great confusion!

"Luke, I see the only way to get to the heart of this matter is to show you what we are talking about, shock you into some recognition of what we are all about," the old guy said and quickly stood.

"Daughter," he said and held out his thin hand for Angela, who rose from my side and walked with her father over to the wooden door and the took his hand.

Here it comes, I thought; I should have had Tane hide in the bathroom!

"Now, Angela told you that she comes from a distant planet," the old guy continued. "She and I are not human, but appear in this form in order to more easily communicate with you."

Suddenly a thin blue haze outlined the pair. I nearly rolled off the bed as the film undulated around the outside of Angela and her farther. It was as if they were surrounded by a neon force-field.

"What you see here is our energy field, our very life force," Angela's father continued and the outline of blue grew darker.

"By showing you this," the man said, as a small spot of blue then appeared in the center of his chest. "I am allowing you the equivalent of seeing my heart."

"This is very dangerous for us Luke," Angela spoke through the haze. "Father and I are ambassadors who have come to your planet to communicate with your people, and we will stop at nothing to do so, even risk to ourselves. This demonstration is dangerous for it expends much energy. We need to impress upon you the importance of our mission."

"Luckily father is strong," she continued, turning to the old man.

The blue cavity had grown to completely reveal a hole old guy's chest. Yellow sparks were flickering through the sea of blue before me. It was quite a startling sight and if I hadn't been so fascinated I'm sure I would have thrown-up...or at the very least, screamed.

"I used a bit of my energy that first night to get by your backstage people," Angela explained. (Hell, I knew we had good security people) "and some more to create the dress that captivated you so. We also use our energy to disguise ourselves as humans," she finished.

Angela's father dropped his head and the hole closed quickly in his chest. The force-field of blue faded as the two parted hands and Angela led the little guy to his chair.

"Is he okay?" I asked, nearly rising from the bed myself.

"He will be able to speak momentarily," she said, kneeing next to her father. The old guy raised his head slowly and smiled at me.

"Thank you, I am fine," he said and touched his daughter's cheek. She stood and sat on the bed next to me once again.

"So you see, it was necessary to show yo..."

"Wait a minute," I interrupted Angela's dad, jumping to my feet. "I have no idea just what the hell is happening here, but I'm not..."

"Yes, you are Luke," the old guy persisted.

"You don't even know what I was going to say!" I screamed.

"'You are not the man we should be showing ourselves to'," Angela spoke my unspoken exclamation. I looked down at her and then crumbled back to sit on the bed; I had forgotten about the mind reading.

"I...I," I tried, but nothing was coming.

If this wasn't a dream, or an acid flashback, I was actually experiencing something I always secretly yearned for and believed in, but now found I was having a hard time accepting; actual contact with alien beings. Growing through the sixties non-withstanding, but my love of Clarke, Bradbury and Star Trek figured into the mix, it was little wonder that this thrilled me as much as it scared me shitless!

"We did not come to disturb you," Angela's father said, leaning in towards me again. "But I assure you our presence here is of the utmost importance."

"I know, the big Earth-saving secret I can't seem to remember," I said. "Just what the hell is it anyway? I'm telling you, you can pick thousands of guys more qualified to tell all this to. And you," I said and looked hard at Angela (or as hard as I could muster), "just what in the hell did I have sex with last night?"

"I was with you as a human," she calmly said and I'd be damned if I didn't believe her. "I expended a lot of energy" (was this a compliment?) "but we needed to make contact and my father and I thought this was the best way."

"It sure as hell worked," I said. "But you aren't, I mean, you don't look like this...I mean..."

"Luke, why don't you accept the evidence of your eyes for now," Angela's father said. "Our real forms are immaterial. I only showed you what I did to get past the preliminaries and onto the important business."

"Oh yeah, the big 'reason'," I mocked.

"Luke, you have no idea how important this is," Angela said.

"And you two, whatever you are's, have no idea what a fucking mistake you are making picking me to tell," I spat and stood up from the bed yet again.

Warm beer or not, I chugged what was left of the two bottles on the table behind Angela's dad and then walked to the other side of the room; I suddenly had the urge to be by myself, basically as close to the nearest human in the room, namely me, as possible.

"Luke we do not make this contact light," the old man explained. "You are one of the great communicators in this society." (This guy hasn't seen my recent record sales, I thought)

"We have been observing things here for the past two decades. Our plan has now matured and we are confident that you are the human we need to carry our message."

I had to admit I liked the sound of that...even though I knew it had to be bullshit. Everybody likes to think they are a little more important then they are. Hell, why did I go into rock and roll in the first place if it wasn't for unwarranted adulation from faceless thousands?! If Angela and her father wanted to tell me their secret, me of all people, who was I to argue with them.

Besides, I had no idea what they were talking about so how could I argue with them!

"Luke," Angela said and held out her delicate hand to me. "Please sit down and let us tell you why we have come."

"Can't be any weirder then the shit I saw at Woodstock , " I said and plopped on the bed yet again. *

"Your population was growing in numbers too immense to control. We just exploited what was already happening and used it to further our plan," the old man finished.

If he said 'plan' again I was going to scream...and I knew he could 'read' my annoyance so I only thought harder on it! My anger had risen as Angela's dad had recounted his tale for the past half hour and I was now at the bullshit breaking point. I had listened without saying a word, but the more I heard the more my temper rose. I was tired-fuck-it-I was exhausted and for the better part of this night I had been bullshitted by this daughter and father from the planet Eldercane Quisel. If this was how aliens went about getting their rocks off...

The "PLAN". Fuck the "PLAN"! I thought and sent that thought across the room at what little lightening speed my mind could manage.

"We tell you the simple, honest truth," the old guy persisted.

"It is no lie," Angela agreed, patting my hand.

I was getting sick of her placating. Now that I knew she was more blue light then soft flesh, I found I was slowly becoming turned-off to her.

"I never lied to you Luke," she continued. "I told you I was unlike other women you knew and that I had something of great importance to tell you. Your mind merely took what it could at the time and forgot the rest of our night together because you couldn't comprehend our pla...sorry," she finished and looked own.

"What makes you think I can comprehend it any better now?"

"I came to make sure of your understanding," Angela's father, who I now knew as Beldac, explained. "Like all children, my daughters' approach was a mite bit too impulsive, although I agreed with it at the time. But I knew we had to show you, talk to you like this, for you to understand it all."

"Understand that our homeless people are actually aliens..." I began.

"About eighty percent," he agreed.

"...and that twenty years ago your people infiltrated my world by posing as bag ladies and winos to wait for 'a day of great convergence'!?"

"Come on," I added. "See this from where I'm sitting. You try to believe it!"

"This is exactly why your mind blocked the rest of the night with Angela," Beldac replied. "The revelation is simply too astounding."

"Not 'astounding', bullshit!" I said.

"Please, you must believe us," Angela pleaded.

"Twenty years is a little long to hang around as a bag lady, don't you think?" I said.

"First of all, my people do not view time as you do," Beldac started. "And as I told you, there are lots of us here."

"Oh yeah, the 'meetings'," I said, repeating the old guy's term for the communal pow-wows his people held to return to their real forms and discuss news from back home. It was all very clandestine, back alley, "wouldn't it be wild if these silly humans knew what we were up to" stuff and I didn't want any of it.

"'My name is Klattu and I used to be an alien'," I said and laughed despite myself and the late hour. Beldac and Angela just looked at me.

"Luke, you are an intelligent man," Beldac tried. "You can see the humanitarian, if you will, aspects of this approach. At no other time in your planet's history has there been such a feeling of brotherhood, a reaching out as it were, for fellow cultures and people."

"Yeah, but fellow human 'people'," I exclaimed. "Look, nice try, but I just ain't buying' it."

"How do you explain what you've seen in this room tonight?" Angela asked.

"I don't doubt you two are from another planet," I said. "Hell, I don't doubt most of my fans are from another planet. But this plan thing, bullshit!"

"I think you two should leave," I added.

"Luke we..." Angela tried.

"Daughter," the old man interrupted and reached out his hand.

Angela looked up at her father, to me, then back to her father and placed her thin hand in his.

As she rose off the bed and her father off his chair the old man continued:

"We have waited twenty of your years for an opportunity like this," Beldac began. "But we cannot force you into belief and action. We could have made direct contact two decades ago but decided this way was best. We wanted to ease into your society, for a full union with your people and I truly believe our plan..." he stopped and glared at me. "...is the best way to do this. But if you do not welcome us, we will leave quietly."

"I have told you what I came to tell you," he finished. "I had hoped you would see the urgency."

"My Pay Perview special is going off without a hitch," I said. "I'm going to reach twenty million households and with a little luck my new record will sell more then my last three combined, that's the only urgency I know!"

"And orbiting this planet of potential record buyers is a mothership filled with alien beings waiting to make contact with the hundreds of our people who are among your street-life. They would release themselves from their collective disguises to reveal themselves in a glorious choir..."

"Save it," I said to Beldac who seemed to be on the verge of an alien orgasm. "Better liberals then you have wined and dined me."

"The time has come, Luke," he tried, but by now I had the door opened and was pushing the family of blue light out into the empty hallway.

"The contact between our two worlds would begin a new millennium you could not dream," he yelled as I slowly started to close to door.

"Luke, you owe your people this chance," Angela tried.

I stopped in the doorway and stared at them both. It really was a genius plan; infiltrating our society, building sympathies for a problem they helped perpetuate. Beldac was right, the time was ripe, people were ready to empathize. The world was ready to open its collective heart to others, even if they were from another solar system. Still, it wasn't, shouldn't be, and most importantly, COULDN'T BE, my responsibility to save the planet. I wasn't elected to clean the air, or save the whales. I knew they could real all this in mind but I said anyway:

"Look, no offense....but fuck the whales. Fuck the ocean, the rivers, Walden Woods , the rain forestst. Fuck those little minks, the bald eagle, the baby seals and the starving kids. Fuck-um all. I'm here for me dammit!" I spat, stopping for a breath. I centered myself, stealing one last lascivious look at Angela (fuck-um if they could read my mind, I thought) and continued:

"I'm just a guy trying to make a buck. I don't steal from anybody and I put at least forty minutes of music on my albums. I do all the record store signings when I hate to do them and want to take a flame-thrower to my fans. I spend hours in the studio trying to get a vocal just right and I tour just to make enough money to keep my 'bleed-money-from-a-stone' ex-wife happy and my personal life relatively secluded. I don't need your galactic world-saving shit. You want to have our civilizations meet, call the president or the pope. Just leave me out of it!"

And that, I had hoped, was that. But Angela and Beldac hadn't moved from my puking, hadn't tried to cover their faces from my verbal come-shot.

Shit, Beldac was smiling even!

"Just think how popular you would be if you were the man responsible for this event," the old man said, as I held the door open just that last bit.

Did they have CD players on Eldercane Quisel? 4. The Show

Marshall Stack Epiphany!

I stood there. Les Paul custom guitar in my hands, ten thousand cheering fans out in front of me, my band stuck at the dangerous point of 'concert interruptus' and thought of that scene at the end of Close Encounters. Somewhere out there, beyond the man-made lip of this amphitheater, lay a ship like Spielbergs', stuck in its own 'contact interruptus', waiting for me to welcome it. Triple platinum sales, my ex-wife paid off forever, my recording studio now all totally digital, an apartment in Florence and busty young Italian girls to go with it, dinners at the White House, talk shows, hell, maybe even "Time" magazine. Better yet, how about a "Playboy" interview!

All I had to do was say hello and hit that power chord.

I hit the power chord and we broke into my stellar (if I do say so myself) version of "Not Fade Away".

I didn't introduce anything except the first verse of the song.

Beldac and Angela literally crumbled and left the side of the stage so quickly I didn't doubt that they were actually transported. My light rig provided the only light in the place and I no longer watched the horizon for signs of the mothership.

Why I didn't do it, why I didn't just move to the mike and say, "hello"?! I really don't know. I have never been one for big spectacles that didn't involve me; welcoming committee not withstanding! And truth be told, I wasn't really all that sure that this contact thing wouldn't be more trouble then it was worth. Blue halos are great to look at, but what was Beldac and Angela really offering anyway that we couldn't dream-up ourselves!?

Still, if what the father and daughter of blue light had said was the truth, then I had probably done my part anyway. Since I didn't welcome the ship I'm sure all the aliens left, even the ones who had been posing here as homeless. That left us with our own 'human' homeless, thank you very much, and maybe just a few less mouths to feed.

They claim Pay Per View can reach over twenty-million households!

+++

BIO: internationally published author Ascap liscensed songwriter mainly a short story writer, but have had plays published, essays and poems