Randy Babbs

“I see it all so clearly. I have to find my place in the chorus of life. I can’t live as a solitary instrument, ignoring all the beautiful possibilities of a perfect harmony. I’m designed to play off the genius of others, and they need my genius.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Zonked Out: The Teen Psychologist of San Marcos Who Killed Her Santa Claus and Found the Blue-Black Edge of the Love Universe

“John, always clueless to the moment at hand, points fiercely at his feet, commanding Dotty to come. But Dotty refuses to break rank with her fellow musicians.
Good for her.
Naturally, her disobedience does not go over with John. He bumps me occasionally, as he fumes, pacing erratically. I throw an elbow (that doesn’t connect) and give him a glare of irritation. Why isn’t anyone paying attention to me?”
― Michael Benzehabe, Zonked Out: The Teen Psychologist of San Marcos Who Killed Her Santa Claus and Found the Blue-Black Edge of the Love Universe

“It embarrasses me to admit this, but on the first day of school, I sat on a bench, next to one of the new kids. I crossed my fingers, hoping he’d talk to me. Either he didn’t notice me or thought I wasn’t very popular. I’m not. So, maybe the word has gotten out.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Zonked Out: The Teen Psychologist of San Marcos Who Killed Her Santa Claus and Found the Blue-Black Edge of the Love Universe

“This Ravel guy . . . it’s nice knowing there are composers out there who can put notes together that match the way I feel. If he wrote this after a stroke, then there’s hope for all us broken people. This must be an anthem for rejects. Music like this reminds us we’re not alone, that we can come out on the right side of heartbreak. Maybe that’s why more and more people are gathering around. I bet they’re broken too.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Zonked Out: The Teen Psychologist of San Marcos Who Killed Her Santa Claus and Found the Blue-Black Edge of the Love Universe