How Does It Feel?

This is what I missed yesterday.  We'll get to that.  

Black Sheep came over in the morning to get his car.  Dressed for tennis.  He had scholarships to play in college.  He was sipping tea, awake and sober and back to the prep school manners from which he came.  He sat down and stayed for about twenty minutes chatting.  I had the Chet Baker album from which yesterday's song came playing.  When he later told Tennessee about coming over he said, "He was reading and listening to classical music when I came over."  That's how things get confused.  That picture wasn't accurate.  

When we had drinks with my old buddy at the Italian place, for instance, I said that Tennessee lived next door to a a "famous" comedian.  

"The one who started doing 'roids after you jacked him up agains the wall in the bar?"

"You jacked him against a wall?"

I didn't.  I strongly urged him to get away from the table.  But you know. . . that's how urban legends begin.

"Old C.S. listens to classical music and jacks famous people up agains the wall."

"Really?  He seems so peaceful."

"That was before the accident."

"I didn't know he even liked classical music."

Etc.  

Saturday was pretty much a wash.  I was hurting from the previous two nights.  I DID manage to get to the shaved ice place.  The fellow remembered me right away, my name, what I had last week.  He asked what I wanted this time.  He suggested the 420 special.  It was Weed Day, so I said sure.  

"It's a combination of sweet and savory," he said.  "I even put a slice of dill pickle on it.  It pairs well with the long hi."

It wasn't my favorite thing, though.  I almost broke a tooth on a frozen M&M.  

At 4:20, I got a text from my former secretary.  She sent a meme. 

It was a little joke between us when I was working.  I was probably a lousy employee, but I was a good boss.  We liked to let one another know when it was 4:20.  Many days, that is when we would sneak out of the building to go home like a couple of cat burglars.  

Tennessee and the car guy were going to an Earth Day concert that afternoon.  I wasn't about to go to that.  Bad music and a big crowd?  Not for me.  I HAD thought about going until the car guy told me they wouldn't let me bring my camera in.  I thought I might go for an hour and make some pictures.  Later, when the two of them started sending photos, I got a little jealous.  Looked like some weird shit going on.  

I was tired and lazy.  Picked up a Greek salad and half a roasted chicken at the good Greek place.  I ate too much and sat on the couch the rest of the night.  

Somehow, I have to find the right path.  Maybe I'll find it today.  

I have to say, though, that my imagination is on fire when I am at home alone.  I map out countless projects that never see fruition.  But they make me happy at the moment.  And they WOULD be good.  Last night, I thought about putting some of the musicians I know together to record a song, a tribute to all the once semi-famous.  One of my buddies was in a band that used to open for mine.  He owns a bunch of bars and antique Indian and Malaysian home furnishing stores now, but he still plays drums in a band.  He has recently opened a club with a big stage.  I conceived of the video we could shoot to go along with the song.  

You should see what's in my head.  Oh, Lordy.  

Some of it, anyway.  

But maybe you get enough of that here.  

"How doess it feel to be all alone, a complete unknown?"