[Ed. Yes, you might be quite right to wonder why Barney Surfer has made out so well. Two months ago when I offered up Barney Surfer to Murph, Murph snubbed Barney Surfer – or Barfer, for short – and stubbornly continued to play with her older Barney bits. Her former Barney, although decapitated, shredded, and gutted of its soft cloudy innards, remains Murph’s favorite. And this is how it happens that Barfer has remained altogether unmolested. And while Murphy is contented with her old Barney bits, I’m doing this. I don’t get out nearly enough and I’m bored. I will let that stand as my excuse.]

The Adventures of Barney Surfer: Origins

It may not seem like it right away but the luckier of us were frozen over night. Those who weren’t so lucky, my friend Freddy from Florida, for example, now decorate museums and keep busy our archealogists. But as I said, I was frozen over night. I was, if I remember, doing my taxes and singing songs about fiduciaries when the cold snap hit. I was frozen nearly instantly. Not quite instantly. I remember a tingle of cold in my toes. And I sustained that pain, that memory of pain, for the very very long night I remained frozen.

I think I dreamed for a thousand years. And when I dreamed, I dreamed of songs. Mostly about cold toes. If you are looking for a song about cold toes I have one thousand years worth. I’ve only recently been thawed. And it was days after I came out of my icebox before the chill in my toes went away. I also had a very cold nose. And a numbness around my crotch. But I’m all better now.

Except there’s this golden haired monster who’s been sniffing curiously at me. In my day, I was a very big dinosaur. Everything was, well, pusillanimous compared to me. Well, except my tax return. Now that I think of it, I never did submit my tax return, which was quite substantial. That was a long time ago.

Until I can find my bearings, and hit the surf, I’ve started a game of hide and seek with this golden haired giant. I’m not at all convinced I should let her find me. She had a very long tongue and very sharp teeth. Yes, I think I shall not let her find me. Maybe I will write a song about that. It will be a pleasant change from all the songs about cold toes.

Bea Murphy