Hot and dry (Quake weather) 5pm on the Garden Mall I strolled into Woolworths just for the time warp. Suddenly, at a noise like no other my stomach and knees started to revolve in opposite directions. Its not that bad. Its not that bad. ITS BAD. (Damn, to die in Macys yea, but to be caught dead in Woolies ... oh the shame!) Okay, Glen, stand in the doorway.,. Ten hands behind me ushered me into the street. I walked through a cloud that could have been any chemical (dumb!) to find two cars crushed like cans under a rain of brick. Then I get handed a relish tray from The Crepe Place and, taking a carrot stick, pass it on to a friend who appeared as people appear in dreams, So, John, wheres the white wine? This IS Santa Cruz? So I wondered through the rubble feeling like Clark Gable in search of Jeanette McDonald (as if I have one ... born Romantic and soon to be dead Romantic, hey Fitch) until the first of a thousand aftershocks sent me home to find my life in only slightly greater disarray. Well I really had to dust those books and I absolutely hated those dishes anyways. But it was all there, flashlight, water, can food... I AM Marty Fitchs son. All night on the deck with the transistor under the only streetlight in the County at 3/4 and waining. More shocks. Going through this kitchen is like wading through a dumpster. Now when the brass bed rattles I continue improving my style in the Olympic leaping-out-of-bed competition. How do you make a Santa Cruz Cocktail? Why you use some dill pickle juice, flat diet cola, and peanut oil strained from the bottom tray of the fridge and poured over glass chips (dont shake) fondly, Glen
Posted on: Sat, 18 Oct 2014 01:50:50 +0000
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