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« AW-Peeing, or | Main | and now for something you really weren't expecting! (Katy Evans-Bush) »

February 16, 2009


Well, now you're making those of us who didn't get to go to Chicago very jealous.

Or relieved.

jim-- did you not see? the previous post was all about relieving.... ;)

It's flu season ... Hey, I saw Ravi Shankar, too, at Woodstock in 1969. No kidding, it was late on the night we arrived, Friday, I think; the rain had stopped. RS played by himself; it was the most incredible musical moment in my life. I can still hear it. The sitar, the sound of the universe. Thwoiannngg.

Great to see you, madam.

Adding to my list-- Geoff Brock, Mary Biddinger, Nicole Steinberg. Jake Adam York. Jennifer Tonge. The names flow back to me like small waves of sobriety. Patrick Hicks. After a while everyone blurs into a quorum of awesome-ness. You know. Dan Tobin and his wife whose name is immediately bumped from my head right now. JD Smith. Russel Swensen. More, more, more.

Richard Blanco, too. Who I ain't seen in a badillion years.

Jim! Woodstock! That's it! It's all coming back to me. I knew we had met in a former life.

Stacey! You mean, that was--that was--!
You kept the bong. That's okay, no, really; I was okay with that. I ate the plums; they were so delicious and cold!

Neither of yins is old enough to have eaten the brown acid at the Woodstock. I'm just saying.

JAE, I love you! However, unfortunate as it seems, at least to me, I am 60. And I heeded the loudspeakers: no brown acid for me. Purple microdot, was what I was told.
Ah, the closest thing to faith in my life, taking acid from a stranger.

Jill--and here's the proof. I just got my absolutely very first communication from "The Scooter Store" in today's mail! Some database somewhere has me dead to rights.

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I left it
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"After You've Gone"
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