I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news
But she just smiled and turned away.
— the prophet mclean
—

Longtime readers familiar with my readership of three will be startled to know I have an even LESS popular Instagram account. On it, I received a response to the Saguaro Selfie post yesterday from someone in Indonesia, where my writing is wildly popular, largely on the merits of my screenplay about two disenfranchased motorcyclists’ trek to discover the country, called “Indonesia Rider.”

This reply was worrisome, causing me to worry some. The google translation resulted in this message:

“Stop the cake.”

Huh?

I wasn’t sure what it had to do with my post. but then again, i wasn’t sure what my post had to do with my post, so it seemed to fit in OK.

Still, it bothered me. We are a pro-cake household here. Mo loves a basic white cake; I lean toward German chocolate. We’re basically a Jackson-McCartney duet, without the chimp and bickering about whose name goes first in the songwriting credits.

Stop the cake? Could it be a movement? Don McLean wrote “American Pie” half a century ago, in which we said bye bye to that particular dessert and hello to 342 convoluted verses. After so many years, could pie be making its comeback, with Indonesia leading the way? Is Indonesia even a real place? Was this someone from Papua New Guinea in disguise, seeking revenge for my years of disparaging remarks?

Stop the cake? What does that even mean? What was he trying to tell me?

I woke from a fitful sleep still puzzled. I stared at the message again.

And then I realized.

I had a typographical error.

Using the little Barbie Keyboard on my iPhone, I had gotten a letter wrong. The message didn’t say “leren lah kek” at all. what it DID say was “KEREN lah kek.” Which translates to:

“The cake is cool.”

My faith in humanity was restored. I am greatly relieved, because I could never remember all the words to “American Pie,” and I always liked “Vincent” more anyhow. There’s just something about starry, starry nights.

The Cake Is Cool. This could be a movement, Arlo. Join in on the chorus.

p.s. in my version of “Indonesian Rider,” the movie ends with our two heroes back at the cafe, enjoying lovely slices of cake with the good ol’ boys from the pickup.

Never stop dreaming.

Preferably about cake.

——

And now, after my second cup of coffee, I’m looking at the message again. I had a SECOND typo (no, I’m not making this stuff up.)

The actual message was “keren lah KAK,” which translates to, “It’s cool, brother.”

Now, finally, it all makes sense. A lovely sentiment, lost in translation.

Thanks, brother. Someday if we meet, the cake’s on me.