It is hotter than the holiest of Dante's hells today in New York City. I'm fixin' to hop on my horse and boogie down the street to meet thedailygrowlerhousepianist&choirdirector to do some chortling and some just plain ole BY GOD drinking. We do this once ever so many months, just eat a big meal, then come back to Chez Wolf and drink beer and listen to CDs. The old housepianist likes to give me blindfold tests--I amaze myself sometimes, though he recently got me on a Jimmi Hendrix CD, the one where Jimmi's with--is it Buddy Miles--God, I can't recall those good old days of yesteryear, and though I do feel Jimmi was the damndest guitar player and showman of my lifetime--sure I've known cooler guitarists who could play circles around Jimmi, but nobody could use the guitar as an extension of their selves like Jimmi could--Jimmi like Lester Young only new how to play their instruments and the music that came out of their instruments otherwise they were doped up or liquored up--and even on stage they were high both on drugs and liquor but on their virtuosic ruling powers mostly--the drugs and booze were sometimes used to level them off--to keep them from blowing their tops.
So, The Daily Growler is shutting down for the afternoon--shuttering and locking up our lovely back-deep back of the building-dark and lonely and lost and hidden offices--and there goes crack editor Rob Treasures now--he's working on a headline story about how our criminal politicians are robbing us blind.
I shudder thinking about the world, the "normal" world.
I'm goin' drinkin'.
I might even get up the nerve to call Pastor Melissa Scott tonight and ask her for a date--how 'bout Cabo for a tryst, Melissa?
for The Daily Growler
Do you hear the "Sailor's Hornpipe" playing gayly in the backend of the building?