Thursday, April 18, 2013

got out of the habit of walking, or even swimming, though i was still riding my bike up to the corner and risking my life at nineteenth and flint. finally i started walking again, the usual 5k, five times around the big wide green park, the dog wallow, and tonight it was cool and clear, maybe the last night like that. orion is gone. a hot sunny spell came through, good for my son who is visiting from chilly illinois, but then yesterday it was both 90 here and 45 in amarillo, about 70 miles up the road, and then pretty soon it was 45 here and then 30. reminded me of lake michigan, where a hard wind could roll in from the north and you'd lose 50 degrees in an hour, it was like that, only the wind was harder. the wind on the plains is like a wild horse, it shrieks and changes directions easily, and doesn't seem to be influenced by the water, because there isn't any.

i was mulling over that boston situation since it's kind of my alter-ego, that other leverett, whose ancestors are buried there downtown near leverett circle, who lives like a yuppie and enjoys the fine life of a regal, beautiful city. who's to say i'd be hanging around the finish line of a marathon, but it's all pretty random sometimes, you never know. other times it seems like it was meant to be, but how can you say that when nails are flying all over the place? i say 5k is as much as they'll get out of me and i'll avoid the crowds, thank you, and the new york subway too, my sister's moving out this way, to las cruces, and she might wilt in the sun like a saguaro but she'll at least stay out of those subway caves where you can't get out unless you can jump a turnstile, and you better not say anything bad about the yankees.

then there's west, texas which got me for a minute until i figured out it was west, texas, not west texas, because i live in west texas and you know something like that can't happen without everyone being related to everyone and tragedy compounding. to me it's ok as long as it wasn't deliberate, i'm getting kind of tired of these people just wiping everyone out why, because they're sick or something. if you make an honest mistake, say you drop a cigarette in the fertilizer vat, that's a different story.

with my son here, i'm hoping to play some red-dirt, get out the instruments, string the guitar and maybe fix the lap dulcimer, play the fiddle and his mandolin, maybe get some people out here. i don't know what it'll sound like altogether, if i could get some people out here. not even sure it could be done. but it's worth a try and we already have a quick gig coming up, an end-of-semester party for the writing lab. they like their music around here. there's no way we can go, and not bring these instruments. might be, they know slightly different songs like dixie soldier, and they play them faster. aside from that, it's nothing i can't handle.

as for the corner, saw two wrecks up there in two days, right next to each other, but that was after going a few months without seeing any. so you never know, you can't take it for granted. if i'd a been better prepared, or had a few minutes to rub together, i'd a whipped out my phone and taken pictures of shattered glass, tow trucks, policemen standing around discussing speed and tire marks, a woman just sitting there, in her car, dead center of the intersection, as traffic starts up and gingerly goes around her. what do you say to someone like that? you know she has a phone, already called for help, even though you don't hear anything yet. a guy walks over to offer to her, i'll push your car out of the way, if that's even possible. but it's not. the tow trucks do their thing and an hour later, i'm going back to work, kind of riding a tenuous bicycle over little glass shards.

first little league baseball game coming up, tomorrow, i'll be there; then, maybe, we'll go to a tech baseball game and see how it's done by the bigger guys. then, a birthday coming up, and, i've been working on the folk tales, and that's good, but somewhat incomplete, like everything, and i've done virtually no other writing, poetry, stories, anything. just a red-dirt song, and an unplayed one at that. not much to show for april, but then, a person's got to take a break once in a while, from everything. period. ba.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home