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Sometimes the best laid plans... metamorphose. But, everything happens for a reason, right? It was agreed that I'd meet "Biggles" for a night of gutbuket blues at a "local" (meaning thirty miles away) dive, but the weight of the past three days ground my resolve to a halt before sunset. Also, he was leaving for the beach with his "LouLou" (a double for Louise Brooks) and his son, tomorrow, anyway. Timing is strange, nowadays. Rather, I stood in a darkened garage with friends I hadn't seen in a while and did some catching up... Miss Jane at home with the TV (I'm beginning think that life would be better without it). The serious talking needs to be at home. From both sides, hopefully... if we are to continue. The minds must meet. Everyone seems to be going somewhere... mainly, the ocean. One to the biker resort, the other the family beach. Whichever, the sea is the destination. And it's calling me, too. After I got back home, and my second wind inevitably returned (without fail... always the last man standing), on the tube comes End1ess Summer II. More ocean. OK, I got the message. For this, I won't throw out the TV. Something enthralls me about waves. Like the monologue said, "each one is different... like a fingerprint." I've seen the murky green ones in the east, the frigid black ones in the west. Now, I'm hungry for the translucent aqua kind... where even the foam on the shorebreak has a suggestion of turquoise. It's like a magnet that's only started to draw me, after two years. Maybe that would the jumpstart I need. Salt air and water to wash the crust away. Back to where it all started... the human race, that is. Some metamorphosis is in order. |
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