thirteen

tonight's lesson:

even the most hard core guys get all intense about goddamn american idol. hilarious how guys who obsess about LSU football (or any football) are on the edge of their chairs for 2 hours over what simon says. i could write about 20 pages about what i saw, but it's not really worth it. the simple observation is enough, and you can extrapolate the rest. big dave, clay etc.-- they all loved it- completely worth my price of admission to watch. hell, i enjoyed just watching them enjoy it.

now on to my night. started simply enough--- finished 'on the road' finally (well, i say finally, it only took me about a week, so that's not bad) and started 'nausea' by sartre. clay was in the bar, but he didn't notice i was there. i called him out when he got to the 'other bar' (to remain nameless to preserve its anonymity) and it finally clicked in who i was. another laugh. being somewhat invisible kicks ass.

but bar rat tonight was redjacket. he was some kind of salesman in a maroon polyester coat, and he kept trying to convince the bargirl he was harmless-- and i suspected that he was trying to convince himself rather than her. he kept begging her to put on her glasses, and poor thing, she tried play along, but with those pleading, silent eyes to just leave her alone and drink the beer and go home, wherever home was. she noticed i finished the book and was on another, and because that was the only thing she did, other than keep the beer filled, i left her a little something extra tonight.

and blackboard graffiti. i noticed references to proverbs and waylon jennings tonight. who wouldn't rather hear something by waylon than proverbs? simple mutterings, smudged with ranting about LSU, etc., but who really wouldn't rather listen to something old drunk waylon had to say?

and now at the end of the night, the bright midnight, i have jim carrying on about spanish caravans, andalusia, and all that-- things that don't get me caught up in the 22's, nothing about the sweet destruction and desperate night-- no, not tonight. for now, it's all about the wild love going to the desert, riding to the sea, riding to the devil, and all she saw was weak. the pure morrison, the tempered morrison, where boundaries lay, observed.

focus this long, irrespective of your motivation, and now i leave you to wonder why you came. the reason doesn't matter to me.

oh. one more thing. if you haven't listened to albinoni's adagio in g minor, listen to it. now. fucking brilliant piece of music.