October 5, 2013
Every day that I walk to work I pass this guy standing on the side of the road, seeming to be waiting for a ride. Somehow he looks classy in a plaid shirt and black pants. He looked like about 60 years old and he’s always carrying a guitar. I was always curious about this fucking guy. I’d be going to work, and then as I’d approach, I’d remember about him, and pass wondering where he was going every day with his guitar. I’d keep wondering as I moved on, until I’d get to work, then I’d forget all about him, until I’d see him on the street the next day.
So Yesterday I was on my way to work and was passing him by and when I was about five feet away I stopped in my tracks. I turned and looked at him. He nodded a hello and I nodded back. I lit a cigarette and took a few drags before I approached. He kind of looked away but at the same time I could tell he was keeping me in his peripheral vision. I walked up to him and didn’t say anything because I was trying to think exactly what I wanted to ask him.
He looked at me and asked, “Is there something I can help you with there son?”
I said, “Where is it that you go to every day with your guitar.”
Then he told me how he and his friends get together every day at this time and just jam, playing the blues. He’s waiting for his ride. I like the blues, so I told him, “I like the blues.”
He said he kind of figured that since I had blue hair. He also said he’d been curious about me for a while, with my Eastwood and Stepping Wolves and Gary Oldman (II). He said it was all disguises. So I referred to his guitar, “Is that a disguise? Or an identity.” He said none of the external stuff could ever be an identity or part of an identity, but rather tangible representations of things which we connect to and identify with, therefore they are expressions of our identities. Then I told him that he contradicted himself by referring to them as expressions as opposed to his first definition of disguises. He said well many artists disguise their true internal workings through external expression. Sometimes they lay it all out for you but it’s cryptic, yet being cryptic in itself makes it a disguise. Anyway, it sounds like we had this huge conversation, but we’re both kind of quiet. He talks more than me though.
Finally I was like, “I want to come with you tomorrow.”
I shook my head.
“All right, you come along with me Monday son.”
“Grimm.” I reached to shake his hand.
“Grimm?” He shook my hand.
“It figures. Howard.”
Then we just stared at each other for another minute and I said I had to get to work. We shook hands again and I moved on. When I got to work, I asked Sharly if I could work Saturday instead of Monday. She told me to call the woman who works there to see if she can switch, so I did, and she can, so she will, and I’ll go. So Monday I’m going to go jam with some blues guys, which is awesome. And it was cool to meet Howard, but I feel like I stole some poetic mystery away from his existence since I know where he goes every day and what his name is. But I think this will be worth it.
I want to be cool like that when I’m his age. Cool and stable and healthy. Maybe I’ll bring my blues song that I wrote about a year ago and they can put it to music. Nah, that’s stupid.
Anyway, I kinda can’t wait until Monday because that’s going to be pretty cool I think. I like to do new and different things to keep me engaged in life I guess, especially now that I’m not doing drugs. I should have confirmed with Howard though that there wouldn’t be any drinking, since whiskey and blues goes hand in hand. But it still would be kind of early in the day to be drinking maybe.
In the meanwhile, as I anticipate the blues, Iona came over after I got out of work last night and Pete was out with Patrick. First thing we did was we danced to some techno. Last thing I put on was the Chemical Brothers, which I don’t think I’ve listened to since rehab and the Gangsta. I like the Chemical Brothers better than a lot of the new shit because the new shit just tries to mesh in too many different genres and make it techno, whereas the old school shit is purely techno. Anyway, Iona said she liked the way I dance and then she pushed me down onto the couch and ravished me. I can’t tell Pete that I had sex on the couch. It’s not a lie, it’s just something left unsaid. Something harmless.
I had to close Gary Oldman (II) off in my room though because I don’t like her watching when I’m having sex, it just is weird. Because she’ll meow at me and jump on my head during it and it’s just weird so I close her into a different room. I feel guilty but I don’t know, it just seems wrong.
Ok I’m falling asleep at my journal now, I think I’m gonna go back to bed with Iona. I wake up so early. I wish I could sleep in, but I guess it’s a good schedule to be on for when I start school up in the Spring semester. I like it though, being up when no one else is. It’s quiet, very few sounds, beside birds. It’s a peaceful solitude.
previous Grimm 121: Daily Fiber, Wall Grimm’s Philosophy of Mistakes, & Love Grimm http://wp.me/p41c99-jJ
next Grimm 123: Blues Grimm & The Convoy http://wp.me/p41c99-jT
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Patrick is based on himself at http://phintly.wordpress.com/