field report: bridges

For once the speakers outside Hard Rock Cafe are playing a song I want to hear so I stand leaning against the bricks and listen to the lengthy bridge from ‘How Soon Is Now?’ It’s the part of the song I have always particularly loved. Just as Morrissey starts to sing for the last time ‘I am human and I need to be loved’ a generic man in fancy slacks and blazer walks by mouthing the words. The song fades out and I walk to the suspension bridge that always buckles in the wind. As I reach the bridge a man visibly down on his luck addresses me. He asks me if there is a mission where he and his wife can get a hot meal and I tell him there is one on the Fallsway. He replies that it’s closed. So I say there’s also one on Gay Street. He responds that it too is closed. I have no money with me so I tell him I can’t help him and wish him luck. He says nothing and turns away. I continue across the bridge and then I walk across the map of the Chesapeake Bay Watershed, sometimes cordoned off and sometimes not, that is etched into stone in front of the fish prison. I make a halfhearted attempt to look for birds in the habitat islands but I feel like I have experienced way too much in the past few minutes so I return to the office and read a few more pages of Konwicki.


Debut Solo Gig (Farewell Smiths Concert) Wolverhampton Civic Hall

Debut solo gig / farewell Smiths concert – click to watch – the band comes on stage at about 12:00

the one and the other in monday denial

Hello Other!

Hello One.

What’s on tap for today? asked the one.

Please don’t use that phrase. I don’t like it, said the other.

Certainly, replied the one.

Are you feeling badly? asked the one tentatively.

The other sighed. This banter is beginning to read like a Garfield comic strip.

Oh, right, replied the one. Garfield hated Mondays! He would hide under his blanket in his cat box. Not a bad idea actually.

Yes, agreed the other. How do you cope with Mondays, one?

Well, I hang out with you, of course, said the one. But I also read books and listen to music! I’m not very productive at work on Mondays in case you were wondering.

Well, that’s your business, said the other.

Perhaps they will fire me, said the one.

It’s always possible, replied the other.

I think it would be a relief, frankly, said the one.

Frankly, Mr. Shankly, said the other.

This position I’ve held…It pays my way, and it corrodes my soul!! sang the one.

I want to leave, you will not miss me…I want to go down in musical history!! shouted the other.

Wheeee, said the one.

I had a lot of weird dreams this weekend, said the other suddenly.

Dreams are good. I love them! said the one.

Dreams repel Mondays. They are the anti-Monday! said the other, excited now.

What else can we do to destroy Mondays? I want to smash them to bits! said the one.

Maybe we can sneak up on Mondays…like on Sunday nights, and stab them in the back with an ice pick??!! shrieked the other.

Yes! Yes! Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood! shouted the one.

Wait. Is Monday the beast…or the deserted island? asked the other.

Who cares! screamed the one. Slit its throat!

Okay, settle down, said the other.

Why?? You started this! yelled the one.

Here, have some pretzels, said the other.

Okay. Pretzels are good, replied the one.

This conversation never happened, said the other.

I know, said the one.

More of The One and the Other.

it was dark as i drove the point home

Rain and cool breezes hint at what is to come. I’ve felt it for weeks now…the impending shift in seasons.  As I applied yet another coat of paint to the doors down in the basement, I turned up the melancholy on the stereo…the inaugural playing of The Smiths.  Morrissey crooned over my shoulder as my brush moved smoothly back and forth across the wooden surfaces.

This summer has been particularly rough, the oppressive heat sucking the life out of everything…the plants, the trees, and me.  As always I’m looking forward to fall, but maybe even more than usual this year.

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