"Ha, I Remember My Art Basel Days. Did You Make Something Fun Out Of Pipe Cleaners Again?"

This is an occasional column by one of the authors of The Underminer, Or, The Best Friend Who Casually Destroys Your Life. This time around, we learn that the only thing cooler than going to Art Basel is Xmas in NoLa with Brad and Ange.

Holy cow, I can't stop running into you! Ha ha! Look at you at the fancy new wine bar in the JFK airport drinking in the middle of the day! Aren't you a bon vivant.

Oh hold on...

Braddy? Braddy poo? I'm just here with an old old friend. I'll just see you at dinner. Oh by the way, Ange said we needed more low impact biodegradable hemp diapers so I just picked those up. You're welcome. See you later. I love you too. Blessings to all creatures and humans of all religions, bye.

So what brings you here to the airport? You are going to Art Basel. Wow, cool. Ha, I remember my Art Basel days. Did you make something fun out of pipe cleaners again? Are ya gonna do a lot of coke with all the spray tanned 24-hour party people? That's so awesome! So happy that your conceptual artwork is getting attention, now, right before it doesn't matter.

No I'm sorry I don't mean to sound judgmental. It's totally worth the extremely damaging carbon footprint you are stomping into our delicate earth. Because I know how long you have wanted recognition. You are doing it for YOU.

It's just that some of my friends like Brad and I are sort of reassessing our priorities? Seeing what really matters? And those old pre-apocalyptic ways of making a difference like becoming "art stars" or "stars" or "famous" just seems archaic and spiritually immature. Like Madonna in her Lucky Star phase. It's just the way we have been feeling lately. Me and my good good friend Brad.

What am I doing here? Oh no no no. I'm not flying on a commercial jet. Brad has an eight seater plane parked here than runs on electricity we have gathered from an intricate energy-gathering system built into our shoes. I'm just taking it down to NoLa to meet him and the wife and the family, so we can start trying to heal the world and reverse global warming and rebuild the scarred remnants of our country that have been neglected by our cynical government.

Hm? Well, I really don't want to divulge his last name, because I sort of respect him and the challenges he must face for being a person of stature amid the constant desperate eyes of our Paris-Perez-Hills-Hilton public? He's just going through a lot right now, and I am trying really hard to keep him from being hurt. You know how that must be, sort of like the way you felt when your cat died of feline AIDS a few years back.

Brad's just really going through a lot right now. It all started last summer, when he and I were shirtless, digging the foundations for one of the visionary homes he has had commissioned in the Jefferson Parish. I saw him there, not as a huge mega star, but as a sinewy, honest father, and my goodgood friend. I turned to him and said, Brad, you know I love you.

I love you too, he said.

And I carefully sat him down on a nearby stump, sitting close to him so that we were breathing as one, and then said to him, Bradford, I have watched you these past weeks, here in New Orleans, trying to make a difference. I see such happiness and conviction in your face. Something I haven't seen in so long. Maybe it's time for you to step away from acting and follow your heart.

And he looked at me, wiping sweat away from his pectorals with a ragged bandanna, and said, you know what? You're right. Blessings to you my friend. And then we embraced.

NO No NOT as lovers! No. Like comrades. Like the way warriors embrace in movies such as "300" or "Beowulf."

And now, thankfully, he has a whole new outlook! And I am living with him and Ange and the kids and just feel so blessed to be on this journey of good.

But enough about me! YOU are going to fun, crazy Art Basel! And doing coke. Ha! Have a great time.

I know it's hard to do inner work when you are in Miami, partying in air-conditioned, energy-sucking hotel rooms, eating overfished tuna, buying drugs delivered to you on the bloody backs of hundreds of poor, rural peoples living in squalid conditions. But, well, if you could just do me one favor.... take a moment, maybe on your balcony, and reflect on what you really want out of life. Just do that for me, ok? It's a good first step.

See you soon, I hope. Blessings to you my friend.