October 25, 2023
As reported earlier, my good looking neighbor wants to hand deliver a homemade pie to the builder of this mega-mansion up on the Seven Sisters (her humble abode is offstage-right, in this photo). The scuttlebutt on the road is he's a 78-year-old, good looking bachelor.
This morning I received this report from my neighbor, down the hill, who is married to a realtor, concerning the rumors: "No, not really. It was a foreclosure salvage and completion. The property went belly up in the last big recession in the early aughts."
Facts Be Damned!
So, another juicy story gets ruined by the facts. Here, in a nutshell, for all to see, is the overwhelming disappointment in "history." Most of the time what we want to be true, isn't. What we are hoping is not true, is, well, turn on the news, or more time appropriate "Doom Scroll" your way into the present horror show.
Meanwhile, on the Kurt Cobain world stage:
Little Aussie Bastard Scores Cover Story
(In My Old Rag)
Yes, Australian author James B. Mills has done a major feature on Nirvana and it will appear in my old newspaper, The Phoenix New Times tomorrow. And the article supposedly mentions that it was my son, Thomas Charles' first concert (after the opening act, Mud Honey, finished their set, T. Charles said, "Okay, let's go," thinking we just saw Nirvana!)
Details tomorrow.
"There is no present or future, only the past, happening over and over again, now."
—Eugene O'Neill
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