#uncoffeed...

What did Robert Louis Stevenson write? my name (only for about .36 of a second, but it was awkward) the layout of hotels around Fisherman's Wharf in Monterey, CA the names of clouds meaning of ancillary  Chief Seattle (looked it up but promptly forgot again) what a catbird looks like where I put my owl-shaped rock how to give a fuck about my future (this one was not resolvable by internet)

I don't think John knows anything about Neal Cassady, but I could be wrong. Neal Cassady was a major player in the Beatnik Generation and driver of the psychedelic counter-culture. In the pages of The Electric Koolaid Acid Test , author Tom Wolfe talked about Cassady and his Radio I-Ching. If I am remembering correctly, Cassady would carry a nonstop monologue whilst driving. As he drove and while he talked, he would occasionally reach over and turn the radio dial. Tom Wolfe said Cassady would magically stop the dial on a song that played off his commentary. Every time.  Radio I-Ching.  Neal Cassady died in 1968. In 1968, John wasn't even thought of yet. '80's kid - I bet John isn't as old as my last husband; maybe older than my daughter. John feeds money into the jukebox at his bar , and it seems like he knows the words to every song in the machine. I'm sitting at the bar with iced tea and water, working on a series of illustrations which repre...

Clara Kiester Hetzner and Lura Jean Kissinger Slice the peach like Grammie always did -  with sugar and milk in the same bowl with the same knife with the same longing.

I miss knowing every inch of his face, its bone structure, the thinness of his skin.  I miss his funny walk and the surprising strength of his core. I miss the smell of leather and Head-and-Shoulders in his long, thick hair which he somehow could tuck up into a baseball cap.  I miss the way his eyes darted to each side before that inevitable barb rolled off his tongue. He was a master of subtle timing; even he didn't understand that.  His nature erupted into everything he did, from playing guitar to tenderly nursing plant cuttings. Housewives and band groupies called him for his meatloaf recipe, but he took real pride in chocolate eclairs. My kids refused to eat them so he retired, devastated, into the neighbor room.   Some things aren't meant to be gotten over.  Everything still exists, somewhere; nothing is linear, not really. So, you see, it's okay to say no. Nobody should ever say yes until they are comfortable knowing there is no competiti...