March 13, 2010
I’m going back
to Texas tomorrow, y’all. For a week, anyways.
Big party on Dutton Drive. The last waltz. The final hurrah.
“Hey, my mom’s not at home. You wanna come over?”
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to Texas tomorrow, y’all. For a week, anyways.
Big party on Dutton Drive. The last waltz. The final hurrah.
“Hey, my mom’s not at home. You wanna come over?”
comments
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Oh, man. Yes. Yes, I do.
We can scrabble around in the debris and act out stories.
I’ll bring the scotch.
I have silly work to do next week, but some days are freer than others. I wanna play and see, and help. Don’t y’all do it all without me, okay?
Sheila, Deron, Cindy, someone…
Please post a photo of the evening, for those of us who vicariously live such moments with you.
I’ll pretty much just be there, except when I’m not. So give a call, then stop on by. Hang out with me and the baby doll.
Now, if the door sticks, it’s my fault.
Deron, the guy across the street may be about with his Cadillac (hood badge and belt and buckle on the back) with the blades. I bet he’d pose for you whilst you shot him. I think Dutton Drive might be the perfect backdrop for the shot.
Damn! I wanna be there too. Now, you promise me you will drink over there.
Phil, I think there’s still some booze in a kitchen cabinet. And if we run out, there are a couple of liquor stores only a mile or so away in Cockrell Hill.
I bought some islay scotch last night.
Could I interest you and Amy in a foster care arrangement for the baby doll?
On second thought, I’m wondering: Jasper.
Jasper would lick and care for the baby more than the baby would wish to be licked or cared for.
Jasper does like to lick, doesn’t he?
oh boy.
Sheila,
You haven’t said so in so many words, but I’m assuming that you’re readying your mom’s house for sale?
Oy.
Believe me, I know what that can be like: just about every feeling possible can descend.
‘Readying’–what a nonsense word to encompass the cleaning out, organizing, sorting, sifting, and winnowing (not to mention trashing and selling) of how many years worth of living, buying, loving, and using!
On the other hand, if that’s not what you’re up to, thank you for allowing me to muse back upon what it felt like to clean out Raleigh Road after 50 years of, shall we say?, heavy habitation.
My thoughts will be with you this week.
Thank you, Pamela. That’s indeed what I will be up to. A four- or five-day blitz.
Thank you for your thoughts.
Tonight, as I sit in the Milwaukee airport, waiting for a delayed connecting flight to Dallas, I remind myself of the wisdom of Hunter S. Thompson:
“When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.”
And when the ‘weird’ turn pro, watch out!
Sheila,
Does not fair Dallas inter its refuse in landfills?
A landfill that is then planted o’er with grass and trees, adding greatly to the beauty of the neighborhood?
As in the one up the road here on Willow that Jake worked so hard to get authorized (zoning board) in the 70′s.
And it’s all filled up now, and ‘closed’.
Can you imagine the pickings in there? (Where ARE my Beatles records, anyway??)