Time Will Tell

maxresdefault200I am at Dagny’s, in the “smoking section.” I am trying to hang out with the cool kids, though I eschew not only the post-coital cigarette, both as a physician and a man, but cigarettes in general. It’s getting cold, uncharacteristically for May in Bakersfield, and there is a chill wind ablowin’. Debris is carried along on the breeze–and also the ashes from the ash trays. I see a photographer who promised to take a flattering photo of me, but she is too tired to shoot. Henry Halloran, my ostensible friend, told me the selfie I took posing with my poetry book was unflattering. So she offered to take a flattering photo. And the photo she took of me as a passing rando was certainly flattering, so much so that i used it for my new profile picture on Facebook. I lug my poetry book with me wherever I go so she can take that flattering photo of me proudly displaying it. Validation, baby.

I am at Sandrini’s later, listening to Vince Galindo. What the heck? I am having trouble with Sandrini’s Wi-Fi. Can’t get on. Also, since I am kvetching, this Chromebook is a pain. I have the capability to work offline, but I don’t really trust that my docs are being saved, let alone that I will be able to get them when I am online. However, if you’re reading this, it must have worked out somehow. The way I look at it is, the robots will take all the jobs, but we will all have personal robots that we will hire out, or use to extend our grasp. Then, we take the robot’s paycheck. Otherwise, all the products manufactured will just sit on the shelves with no customers. Meanwhile, I have issues with technology. Like my guitar. Is it too much to ask that the preamp would work? Tried to get it fixed, but it was like Steve Earle said:

Everybody told me you can’t get far
On thirty-seven dollars and a jap guitar
Now I’m smokin’ into Texas with the hammer down
And a rockin’ little combo from the Guitar Town

My guitar is a Greg Bennett designed acoustic guitar with a built in tuner and preamp, but no sound came through when I plugged it in. I put in a new battery and fiddled with it but nothing. I took it to Front Porch where I purchased it but Luke was unable to fix it. He said the preamp was shot. Samick Guitars is based in Nashville, but they are manufactured in China, Korea, or Indonesia. So, not exactly a jap guitar, which wouldn’t be so bad, as there are some fine manufacturers there, or even all the other countries in Asia that may have made my guitar. I just feel frustrated because I would really like to start that rockin’ little combo, and go smokin’ into Texas with the hammer down. Here are some possible names:

Sam, Jose, and the Silicone Valets, featuring Stormy and Jack Daniels
Ann Tannah and the Baltimore Aerials
Daniel and Jose Lopez and the Dispensers
The Basal Ganglia (basses, tubas, trombones, & baritone saxophone only!)
The Jack Ruby Slippers
Garbanzo and the Legumes
Chet Bakersfield (combines jazz and country western)

So, I am feeling kind of discombobulated, but I wish I was more like the discombobulation Steve Earle described:

Hey pretty baby don’t you know it ain’t my fault
I love to hear the steel belts hummin’ on the asphalt
Wake up in the middle of the night in a truck stop
Stumble in the restaurant wonderin’ why I don’t stop?

Now I’m feeling like Basho, in The Narrow Road to the Deep North, where he wanders around Japan in the winter with only a few haikus to keep warm. Here’s one I wrote:

Vermouth kissed gin and
Left three chords, the lonely truth,
And Vince Galindo

I like keeping the 5-7-5 syllable structure, because it gives it an off balance, asymmetrical feel, unlike iambic pentameter or hexameter, iambic or otherwise. Of course, the temptation is to have vermouth and truth rhyme, but then you are left with an unrhymed third line. So I moved it around. I like this, but one qualm I have is that Vince is more of a whiskey, whiskery, or whisky kind of guy. Would he be drinking a martini? Shaken, not stirred? And another qualm:

Why is Whisky spelled two ways?
The Scots spell it whisky and the Irish spell it whiskey, with an extra ‘e’. This difference in the spelling comes from the translations of the word from the Scottish and Irish Gaelic forms. Whiskey with the extra ‘e’ is also used when referring to American whiskies.

Anyway, I am writing this in Sandrini’s but now Victoria is here and she does take my picture after all. I posted it on Twitter. I will try to link it:

Well, it worked. I also, when I pasted the text from Google Docs, pressed control shift V to remove the formatting, which made extra line breaks when I tried it before. I like this photo because the pattern on my shirt and hat look nice against the bricks. I stumbled through my closet and wore my cleanest dirty shirt because I was doing laundry that day, but it was serendippity doo dah. The best kind of doo dah. Better even than zippity. I wonder how long this link will remain?

Time will tell (but will Tim tell Will?).

2 comments on “Time Will Tell

  1. waughpaper says:

    My vote is The Basal Ganglia but please add piano and percussion to prevent stroke!

  2. Sweet vermouth kissed rye,
    Left behind three chords, the Truth,
    And Vince Galindo.

    I changed it from a martini to a manhattan. The loney truth was perhaps a little redundant. So unvarnished, just the plain old truth? Raisan bread is good, but bread is better. But vermouth perhaps was sweet and then rye instead of whiskey or bourbon? I like the sweetness and it also has better rhythm. Catcher in the rye? Catcher gone awry? Yes, I like this one.

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