Wake up, it’s just another morning. Fight From Above said that, before the death of fun in that glorious summer of 2011. Or was it 2008? It’s been so long since I’ve been to LA. Disregarding issues of timing, they had the sentiment nailed. The world doesn’t stop spinning while we sleep, and the sleep isn’t any good these days either. They’ve stolen that from us. Along with the living wage, and an essential faith in the democratic process. I met James Carville yesterday, he was as cool as advertised. But not me, I’m much cooler on paper. And a polar bear’s toenails don’t do him a whole lot of good when he’s tap-dancing on ice this thin.
That bum might be kind of handsome with a haircut, and less drug scabs on his face. Everyone will take a line from this and thinks it means something. But it doesn’t. Sometimes you want things to be one way, but they’re not. Smiles are a fleeting form of hard currency, and I’m rich like King Midas. My sandals are starting to wear thin, I sure hope tips pick up. I play men’s league basketball, and they call me a youngin’ so why do I feel so old sometimes?
The train is delayed due to police activity. The implications are vague. When the sun shines like it does today, it’s hard to be serious about life. Even ironically so. Winding stairs take you down to the basement, where the action lives. DJ’s spinning, and people drinking, everyone looks beautiful in this sort of dim lighting. Lightning and thunder crashed a day ago, and people lost their minds. It reminded me of home. I saw an ex-gf carrying her puppy through downtown the other day, maybe it was defective. We pretended not to notice each other…maybe she wasn’t pretending. My use of commas can be overwhelming at times.
Sundress season is officially upon us. Which makes it a beautifully depressing time to be alive. The bathroom is through an unmarked door, which is smart. This is Oldtown, after all. Gutter punks stumble past, along with artists and the occasional business professional. It’s a very excellent place. I feel very at home. They know me here.
You can see the mountain in the distance, if you happen to look east while crossing the river on the Red, Blue, or Green line. I’m a public transit ninja, in a Robin Hood sort of way. My beat up Chucks are in an attic somewhere in Minnesota, but that doesn’t mean the mindset has changed. I’m skinnier than I have been in years, and my wallet is considerably lighter, but my words carry more weight.
But mostly, all I’m looking for is a hand to hold.