A.G.E's Joint

Funny how a day changes. The clutter had gotten to me again and I began to gather stuff for charity and the trash. The usual old clothes and kitchen stuff that sounded like such a good idea at the time. I came across it...again. Like I do every year. It isn’t pretty, a store bought relic from a relationship that wasn’t even mine. I pick it up to put it in the collection box. But it doesn’t happen. It never happens. Instead, the annual Lenten litany gets performed. I put on an old song and place the box on the table. We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when Pledge and a soft cloth peel down the layers of dust, bringing out filigree in the brackets. Faded memories tarnished by time, worn by care. Lemon scent burns in my nostrils as my hand glide along the prominent grain of the wood. Holding it in my hand, I anticipate the pain, so cleansing to my soul. The ashes from so long ago forming the cross against my heart. But I'm sure we'll me...

A happy accident …or maybe a hallucination has me . It is Munich on a Monday. Another hungover tourist in an overblown festival. Oktoberfest. Beer flows unimpeded from large taps along the Strasse. Bass drums alternate with tubas against my temples. Large stone survivors of the war glare menacingly on the gay crowd. Flip out… Männer and Fräu dressed for the occasion float along the sidewalk. Dirndls smelling of mothballs and disuse. I don’t get close enough to the lederhosen , but I can imagine. Sweat and filth from years past drifting in my mind. I pick up a bit of conversation. I translate, and they don’t realize it. Derisive comments about tourists common to every destination city by actors playing traditional roles. Jesters exist to mock. That’s a fact. Diggity Diggity Bop… I’m not the tourist. Just a fool riding a couch in echoes of my mind. The mushrooms are stronger than I was used to. And the trip a value for the money spent. A good way to travel without a passport o...

Bookends on a bench Marking time. Time is all we have Watching the leaves run Green, yellow, brown. When I was young Ms. Rudisill said I’d change the world, On airplanes far from this bench Alas, other the worlds Never came. Until you came Half contentment, half chain Ambition blew away Two boys, no wandering From this meadow . Now we are bookends on a bench Marking time. It is all we have Watching the leaves run Green, yellow, brown. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Topic- Dave Coon Pic- Stormy Gail Dormire Pic guesses: Bench (in blog), Bookends (in blog), Reminiscing, Marking time (in blog), meadow (in blog), Leaves (in blog), true love, through the years.

Modest bodice Black lace Belt trimmed waist Fedora topped fantasy Innocence. Exploration. Hiding hysteria Half a generation old Eat it up and breathe it in Let it become you like it's always been Powerless to fight Against the tide. Dozen  white roses Fade from view Abandoned on white sheets Tousled and tossed Dark against light Musk remains Regret, Table for one.

Something I haven’t done for a while. Fifteen minutes...anything and everything that comes to mind. The Midnight Special is the topic and if you are old like me, you might remember the show coming on Saturday night after the evening body count. Sometimes the had a host, other times not. What they did have was the hottest music available on the planet. One act would be Disco, while the next was metal. All the fun of a club without the DUI danger. The only show anywhere close to it these days is “Later, with Jools Holland”, and we can only get year old shows here in the States. Speaking of music, anybody know what Willie Nelson’s first #1 song is? It’s Crazy . It allowed him to move out of his car and kept him Walking the Floor over her ever since. This week’s picture looks like the yellow brick road , curling into the Emerald City . I have to admit it is a gorgeous shot, but be sure not to look behind the curtain as you come under the bridge. You might find someone stopped...