Scattered Showers
Just spent some time poking around the internet. It looks like there’s a lot of new stuff going on. Threw away my Mucky Duck t-shirt. Didn’t fit. Nothing does except this black polo and these pleated white chinos. It looks like there’s a lot of stuff getting worn out, just judging from the dumpster in the alley. If that’s any indication. So dorky. Got a note from a friend in Parsippany: “No thanks.” It’s OK. I hear they’re having rain out there. So? There are more than 300 million people in this fair country, and there’s lots of rain everywhere. Doesn’t it all seem just like scenery. Increasing cloudiness late in the day. Like, I might be driving along, and the iPod might shuffle to that one Smiths song: why now? Here, where the road gracefully descends to Applebee’s, where the trail ends in I can’t remember. That part is blacked out. The movie ended without even ending. I mean, it ended without music or credits: a fluttering of film and then its snapping against the projector. So I write back: “The feeling is mutual.” Or that’s what I’m of a mind to write, but I have to assume there are more days ahead. Lame.