Monday, December 20, 2010

I Have Yet To Snap Out Of It

Here is a picture of me when I was perhaps 2 years old, courtesy of my cousin Laura in Massachusetts, who has found me on facebook and sent it.
Yesterday, I wound up calling Jeff The Potter. I used a payphone which was broken. I could hear him, but he couldn't hear me. We communicated by my pressing the keys, one for "yes," two times for "no." It was decided that he would pick me up at the BP and we would go to his church.
The only drawback was that I would miss the Patriots game on my cheap AM radio.
We had a good time, and I was dropped back off at the railroad track spot, where I discovered that Thomas was not there, but had left his blankets.
Alan, the guy from London, by way of Las Vegas, was there, in his orange sleeping bag, and sound asleep.
I Almost Stone Alan
I slept until about 10 am, got up and drank a blue Mountain Dew, and then read some from my bible.
I read Deuteronomy and they talked about stoning disobedient children. I looked at all the fist-sized rocks around the railroad tracks, and then over at Alan, laying there in his sin and iniquity. Luckily for him, I saw a passage about "Let he who is without sin be the first to cast a stone," before I took the law into my own hands.
I wish Alan didn't have such a bright orange sleeping bag as, no attention to the sleeping spot is good attention. Also, Thomas' blanket was hung in the holly bush like a big white flag which seemed to say "We surrender our possessions." to whomever might see it.
Whiskey Help
There were a few people out on Dauphin Street as I made my way here to the library. I hope to make at least a little bit of money, because I have that feeling of atrophy, which I get when not putting in enough time playing music. I could use some new strings, but I can also use the ones that I have a little longer.
It being Monday, The Garage will have its open mic night tonight. I might go there just to see if the stage will be hogged for the third consecutive week by musicians who have pretty much mastered the three chords of the Blues, and should think about moving on; musically.
Alan is out somewhere, holding a sign which reads: "Homeless Vet, Need help; God Bless, Thank You" I never said that he was creative or original. He is trying to get "whiskey" kind of  help, thank you.

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