Started out thinking I was confronting another ending. Then I walked onto a stage and bled. The Harmony wasn't holding the tune and things were going south.
Met a Lulu who was feeling my electricity. Yeah, but she didn't know it was just a short circuit. I need to insulate -or maybe not. Maybe I should let the power grid ooze until the great darkness engulfs us.
Bought ten CD's. Mike W. gave me a Vince Martin/Fred Neil album and told me he was moving to Sarasota. He's been moving for years. So I won't mourn his loss quite yet.
Then I walked the streets with ghosts. Things seemed the same. St. Pats at the Blossom with the same guy singing Buble Karaoke. Last year was the last supper. She couldn't handle the cooked carrots and dropped a lot of the food on the floor. Her hands didn't work well anymore. MacNamara's Band was a bit gruesome. This year, ate fast alone and got outside to breathe. Getting through.
Down to Phyllis. Haven't been there for a while. Clem wasn't there, Paul was. I kind of feel like an ass sometimes. Maybe some truth in that. Heard a band from Nashville, that wasn't a Nashville band. They did a cover of Jim Carroll. Yeah, People Who Died. Bands from Nashville seem have a desperation not to sound bands from Nashville.
Not too much whiskey.
Monday went to a familiar place that had gone away. Went to Manny's when my mom was still alive. They were on Elston, then they moved to Irving and then quit. The place became some sort of Asian restaurant and I felt a twinge of sadness every time I went by there.
Ghosts of places are everywhere I walk. The church where my grandfather was confirmed and my great grandparents attended is now a bright condo. It is the way, I know, nostalgia is the only thing that lasts.
Empty chairs and empty rooms. Empty bottles and stale memories of loving declarations. Trying to remember the last "I love you" I heard. The last kiss. Instead, I remember the last dismissive get-out-of-here wave of the hand.
But I could walk into Manny's and see the same familiar face, eat the same dinner and swill a margarita. The safe same had returned. The were second acts and you were able to go home again, for just a moment. They had returned and revived.
Listening to an acoustic Jackson Browne.
Had to put on the Great Big Sea. There isn't too much ocean between Boston and St. John. There's no place quite like this place. I'm your boy, I'm your boy.
Other purchases. Classics that I didn't have on disc : White Album, Magical Mystery Tour, Basement Tapes, Blood on the Tracks, Morrison Hotel, Doors, Laura Nyro - Walk the Dog & Light the Light, Butterfield Blues Band, Roger the Engineer, Ike and Tina R&B Sessions.
And I'm streaming Deep Tracks - Slaid Cleaves playlist.
On the road this weekend. Keeping the hellhounds at bay. Pray for me.
Met a Lulu who was feeling my electricity. Yeah, but she didn't know it was just a short circuit. I need to insulate -or maybe not. Maybe I should let the power grid ooze until the great darkness engulfs us.
Bought ten CD's. Mike W. gave me a Vince Martin/Fred Neil album and told me he was moving to Sarasota. He's been moving for years. So I won't mourn his loss quite yet.
Then I walked the streets with ghosts. Things seemed the same. St. Pats at the Blossom with the same guy singing Buble Karaoke. Last year was the last supper. She couldn't handle the cooked carrots and dropped a lot of the food on the floor. Her hands didn't work well anymore. MacNamara's Band was a bit gruesome. This year, ate fast alone and got outside to breathe. Getting through.
Down to Phyllis. Haven't been there for a while. Clem wasn't there, Paul was. I kind of feel like an ass sometimes. Maybe some truth in that. Heard a band from Nashville, that wasn't a Nashville band. They did a cover of Jim Carroll. Yeah, People Who Died. Bands from Nashville seem have a desperation not to sound bands from Nashville.
Not too much whiskey.
Monday went to a familiar place that had gone away. Went to Manny's when my mom was still alive. They were on Elston, then they moved to Irving and then quit. The place became some sort of Asian restaurant and I felt a twinge of sadness every time I went by there.
Ghosts of places are everywhere I walk. The church where my grandfather was confirmed and my great grandparents attended is now a bright condo. It is the way, I know, nostalgia is the only thing that lasts.
Empty chairs and empty rooms. Empty bottles and stale memories of loving declarations. Trying to remember the last "I love you" I heard. The last kiss. Instead, I remember the last dismissive get-out-of-here wave of the hand.
But I could walk into Manny's and see the same familiar face, eat the same dinner and swill a margarita. The safe same had returned. The were second acts and you were able to go home again, for just a moment. They had returned and revived.
Listening to an acoustic Jackson Browne.
Had to put on the Great Big Sea. There isn't too much ocean between Boston and St. John. There's no place quite like this place. I'm your boy, I'm your boy.
Other purchases. Classics that I didn't have on disc : White Album, Magical Mystery Tour, Basement Tapes, Blood on the Tracks, Morrison Hotel, Doors, Laura Nyro - Walk the Dog & Light the Light, Butterfield Blues Band, Roger the Engineer, Ike and Tina R&B Sessions.
And I'm streaming Deep Tracks - Slaid Cleaves playlist.
On the road this weekend. Keeping the hellhounds at bay. Pray for me.
RSS Feed
