My mind meanders with rain falling outside.
Speaking of rain, I was watching Doctor Strangelove the other night for the first time in 30 years and was delighted to learn that the crazy general, Jack Ripper, drank only grain alcohol cut with rainwater. I wish I’d had that line in the rain book.
Sometimes I think I’m living a country Western song or a blues number, or a curious combination of both. I also think I am writing that song, playing and singing it, too, to an unknown audience, or no one at all, or perhaps only the ocean.
Is this a way to live? I don’t know. It’s all I have right now.
I am writing this from a dive bar that is playing classic country and blues songs. I am sitting next to a laminated front page article from the Oregonian circa 2005, headlined “Faces of Meth.”
Rain is picking up. An army of gray has invaded and occupied the landscape.
Near me, an OTA man talks rather loudly about he hated the new Star Trek movie reboot. Agreed. Spock is not an action hero.
“Heartbreaker” by Zeppelin come on. It was Sonny the Husky’s favorite song. When it came on and she was in the back of the truck, under the canopy, slider window open, she would dance and howl. I’d crank it up to 11 and she would go nuts!
I miss that dog more than ever.