Hold on to those pictures, if you have them, cause you may need them when you go.
Wednesday, August 04, 2010
A Cold Christmas season finds me lurking outside Danny's Pawn in the early darkness. Danny's is shut tight against those who would loot the riches Danny tickets for cash from the little barred cave in the back. That stuff, the valuables of an losing life-cycle is too grown up for me. What has drawn me close the back lit show windows are the guitars. Like an incredible riot of outlaws, fat electrics are hung by their necks before committing a singe note of rock and roll. From stands on the floor, silent flat tops seem to look on with smug approval. That's how I remember the scene 50 years gone, but I could not have seen it that way. I must have wanted something, but now I just hold the vision and see my self in a place that is blurred about the edges of the mind's eye.