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Last night I dreamed that my mother and I were at a secluded beach at the base of some rugged white cliffs. I was playing with the sand crabs, those cute little crustaceans about the size and shape of a pill bug, lifting up handfuls of wet sand and feeling their tiny legs scrabble against my palm.
Suddenly, a giant sand crab the size of a small elephant charged out of the sea and attacked my Mom and me. I picked up a handy wooden bench and tried to fend it off like a lion tamer with a chair. Then I noticed that it was not a real sand crab, but a clever construction of gears and wires concealing a guy I knew from college, who has since joined Blue Man Group.
"Hey, Sinclair," I said, "I see Sensei over there. Why don't you go bug him for a change?"
Sure enough, Sinclair and his mecha sand crab suit skedaddled across the beach to try to scare Sensei, who was about to go surfing. (He really does surf in real life.) The last I saw Sensei was fending him off with his surf board.
Suddenly, a giant sand crab the size of a small elephant charged out of the sea and attacked my Mom and me. I picked up a handy wooden bench and tried to fend it off like a lion tamer with a chair. Then I noticed that it was not a real sand crab, but a clever construction of gears and wires concealing a guy I knew from college, who has since joined Blue Man Group.
"Hey, Sinclair," I said, "I see Sensei over there. Why don't you go bug him for a change?"
Sure enough, Sinclair and his mecha sand crab suit skedaddled across the beach to try to scare Sensei, who was about to go surfing. (He really does surf in real life.) The last I saw Sensei was fending him off with his surf board.