10
Sep
11

Back to the lab again

Guess who’s back
Back again
Crowley’s back
Tell a friend
Guess who’s back, guess who’s back, guess who’s back, guess who’s back
guess who’s back, guess who’s back.

Jambo, Bonjour, hola, hello, and cheers my dear dear friends.  I have been thinking of you and did not want you to think I’ve abandoned you to this crazy world.  Summer has been busy, and I am sure you can all relate.  We don’t even have kids and I feel like I haven’t had a free moment.  In fact, when we do have kids we are going to have a governess.  Not a Nanny, a straight up governess like Mary Poppins or the lady that gets the kids to sing Doe a deer.  I want her to be a German or a Russian, one of those tough nationalities that still have some beauty and beautiful people.

I have been thinking about writing a lot these past few weeks, jotting down my mental notes of love and disgust for humanity. In all honesty, when I last left off I was emotionally drained from Africa, the trip, the travel, the side effects from the Malaria pills.  Plus, we had my four favorite living Brits come right into town and stay with us for two weeks; and you know the English, all they want to do is eat fish and chips and watch the world famous Philadelphia Phillies.

 

The Vanderschuits and moi

I had fully intended in coming back last week but ended up getting really boozed all weekend and looking more like a Bukoski  character then the dashing young man you all know and love.  In fact, it wasn’t until this morning as I was coming home from boot camp that I finally caught it.  I was driving through one of the neighborhoods around my house and on the right hand side of the street stood a man.  He was an old man, wearing old man clothes of mismatched sweats and a grandkid’s college colors.  He stood in front of a row of houses and was looking across the street up into the sky.  I found this interesting because along with his clothing I had noticed dark black sunglasses and a long walking cane for the blind. I studied this blind man as he stood there and studied his eternal darkness.  As I watched him, he began to raise his arms.  As I followed what would have been his line of sight, I realized that he stood in the direct path of the new morning sun coming through the houses.  Comforting him, the sun sat on the old man’s body, it’s warmth sliding into the dark shadows of  his reality.  This all happened in a matter of twenty seconds as I drove by.  My heart really wanted to scream at the scene, at the beauty and tragedy of it.  It was the poetry that pushed me back to the page.

We have many things to catch up on.  I will finish up Africa, talk about the Brits and my birthday in San Fran.  We will look in to see how the world famous Philadelphia Phillies are coming along and continue to talk shit on our fellow man.  I am training for a 65 mile bike ride that’s coming up in about three weeks and that I’m not ready for, and I do really want to discuss the side effects from the Malaria pills.  That shit was no joke!  As I said, I was drained the last time I wrote, my cup was empty.  But summer has come again and bathed me in her golden womb. I am fresh and full again and am excited to be back.

PS  Katherine is mad at me so this post is not edited.  Sorry to both the readers and to Katherine 🙂

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