A.G.E's Joint

He wasn’t that talented. He said so himself. A third rate guitar player with a knack for lyrics and the ability to transport an audience into a new world. You could tell he was happiest on stage, watching the faces rise and fall with the tenor of his scratchy voice. We laughed along with the easy banter of the band. Whether it was the prairie scenes of “Mail Order Annie” or the mind at the edge of adultery in “Halfway to Heaven”, you could forget your own foibles for a while and have sympathy for the protagonists. An experience that when it ended, you always came in with a smooth landing. I was in my office balancing a store inventory when the news that Harry had died came over the radio. It felt like a door slamming closed on a significant part of my life. I met him at an after party at the Fox Theater in March 1978, where he invited the attendees to participate in a World Hunger Year event that was coming up. I did and it started a long association with homeless servic...

The cup sat there, white steam rising slowly from umber depths. Smells of frying pork and eggs drifted into Debbie’s nose. Slipping her hands around the cream colored cylinder, she wondered how long since the waitress filled it?   It must not have been that long, it’s still hot.    How long had she been gone? Five, maybe six days?   The only reason she pulled into this diner was she needed to pee.   It just didn’t seem right not to buy something from here. Looking out the window, she saw the Watertown city limit sign and another one saying thirty miles to the Canadian border.    Tucson was dream and in the past. Montreal was the future. There was about $200 left, enough to get her across the border and into the anonymity.   Two years of savings spent in a week.   But it had to be done.   The sight of James and Maritza entwined in her bed had enraged her. She’d known about their affair for a several months. But to have...