When I was a kid I wanted to be a garbage man or a guest on the Tonight Show. I’m an inveterate garbage picker, half my furniture has been “found”, and this, this is my version of the Tonight Show. I get to chatter endlessly.
Lately, I’m discovering things I didn’t know I wanted the first time I came across them. Drunk as a skunk in 1987 (most of the 70s and 80s actually) I picked a guy up in the Lone Star Cafe, a singer in the country band, Atlanta. They were booked at the Dutchess County Fair and the next morning I found myself hungover, hopping pigs and cherry pies. I’ve been back for 15 of the last 20. I’m hooked on livestock, pie competitions, pitchmen & deep fried everythings.
From 15 to 23 I had the same dream every night. In it I die violently four days after my 23rd birthday. I believe in omens and didn’t make any long term plans outside of staying drunk. Ten years past my expiration date, I ended my old life and got sober — four days after my 33rd birthday (just because I believe doesn’t mean I can read the bones). When I turned 50 I thought, okay, maybe I need to make some plans. I still wasn’t sure what I wanted, but the Dalai Lama says everyone wants to be happy. For me, happy has fur and four legs. Read the rest of this entry »
