Monday, November 17, 2008
True Story, Except It Was An Ant...
...and the woman wasn't dead, as far as I could tell. This happened decades ago, it had just turned cold and people were wearing their winter jackets for the first time. Years ago, on the Division Street bus, on my way to see Ileana Gomez in the middle of a summer night, I sat amazed at three cockroaches trying to keep their balance as the bus bounced along. They kept changing position, like the game where you guess the ball is under which cup. Kind of like a living three card monte game.
The second segment of my post relates to this day in general. It snowed and its cold and now it will take a few days before my body adjusts the clockwork, I get the odd pains, a knuckle, the side of my knee, my little finger. Everything gets back to normal in a day or so, but I must now face my true nemesis for the next six months. Tonight, I'm the wet bird in the photo, by Thursday, I'll be the usual bald-headed goofball.