Cold and overcast. Air is moist with a cool sting to the cheeks (the top ones). I had to fast this morning for a doctor's physical at 9:30. I've been having chest pains for about three weeks and after two funerals, with one of them for a friend who was five years younger than me, well, let's just say I've been feeling like I'm living on borrowed time, more than usual.
After an EKG and weigh-in (203 lbs) the PA-C Wendy Veeder said, "Are you aware you had a physical five months ago?" I told her I couldn't remember. She went through my symptoms and when they all were negative, she asked me if any of my siblings had a history of heart trouble and I said, "I have no siblings, I'm an only child." To which Ms. ASS. Physician said, "Oh, now it's beginning to make sense." Ha. Left with a new lease on life and a $20 co-pay.
Since I recently traversed Highway 93 four times in four days, I had a whole bunch of time to study lava flows, igneous rock formations and ancient fire debri. This spawned the following six sketches:
I want to invest The Top Secret Project with liberal doses of this kind of landscape—burning, smouldering, uninhabitable. And if that all conjures up certain levels of Hades, well, so be it.
Charlie Waters and I jammed out last Saturday and played half of every song we ever played in the Exits and come to think of it, we played about half of those songs correctly, so it was nice to know some things never change. Charlie got a keyboard for Christmas last year and had learned the piano intro to the Stones' "Under My Thumb" and that was sweet. I always liked that tune and the refrain always takes me back to Tucson and playing frat parties.
"Genius seems to be the faculty of having faith in everything, and especially oneself."
—Arthur Stringer
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