Just got back from Cedar Key. Who knew doing nothing could be so exhausting. But wanted to put something out there. Too tired to use punctuationandspacing. Found this from last whenever. Best I can do. I have nothing. Have to go water the flowers, the hardy few remaining. Might be a metaphor there. – JDW
If you are crazy and you know you are crazy but you stay pretty much to yourself and your woman lets you be you – within reason – and there are a half dozen folks who love you and maybe five who trust you, are you okay?
Rain pattered on the metal roof. The old man always thought it’d be cool if you could hear music like a soundtrack for your life. Thought that, he was maybe ten, on the school bus and the driver played something called rock and roll. Honeycomb, won’t you be my baby.
If you are crazy and you know you are crazy but you stay pretty much to yourself, your life can have a soundtrack.
You can have a soundtrack, too. Even if you have to sing to yourself sometimes.
He could remember women by certain songs, if he could remember them at all. Oh, the stories. If he could remember them at all.
The old man had kept the love letters, the mash notes, the ransom demands, the pregnancy test results, the lip prints on bar napkins. Love poems, sensuous sonnets. The numbers.
But his crazy second wife burned every last scrap of any last proof or prompt. Demented bitch burned all of it.
He thought that was somehow fitting.
So, I go away for a week and I come back to this. Dogs are good, house standing, we are blessed. The website? Can’t say. You know I was in my mid-Fifties before I learned Lefty Loosie, Rightie Tightie. Way I understand it, a lightning bolt, maybe three, came right up the ass of my server or kookiemonsterRam, something like that.
For what I pay these guys, they’re actually performing at an above-average level.
Please bare with us. We may be inept but we are sincere.