bistromath's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In my dreams I feel cold to the bone, not ready for minter and remembering (in contrast to last night's entry) why it is you should get your degree and work somewhere with climate control. Wine from the bottle, wilco from the cones and a raging night all planned, with no apologies to my boss for the hangover I'm about to have, 'cause he's worse than I am. Up in the mountains banging on siding and window trim and sheeting the gabled end in a misery cold downpour I began to chuckle my own smoked inner laugh. It reminded me not only that fall was coming, but also of Falls and Thanksgivings in Eugene, dealing with family stuffed into to small a space, my father's and my escapes to the Monster Cookie Company for milk and an Oatmeal Raisen that we would munch on the drives around town. Of the constant drizzle in the park down the street from Grammie's, visiting her neighbors and maybe hearing the football roar from Autzen Stadium across the highway. Eugene, through the glass of a picture window, Eugene, so green to a desert boy you have to blink, Eugene, Eugene, Eugene. Sounds like it's time to turn the truck over and roll down the 97 to hook up with some gravel back road and go hang out in the Market for an hour or so. Eugene. My mother and father met there. Maybe I'll have similar luck. Maybe not, but I've never felt that a day wasted in Eugene was the same sort of waste it can be in other cities. Makes me want to listen to Elliot Smith and listen to the cars whosh through puddles and lie under blankets and drink black coffee from a mug. Was there a time when you looked at another place and decided to create yourself there? Craft a life and a home and a neighborhood and have that which surrounds you be the accomplishment? Same token / different side... can I bear to leave my friends AGAIN, and craft a life again, in another new town, should I just quit bummin across the country and settle here where it is easy and simple sometimes and not that hard to ignore the others? Postscriptish: After swinging a hammer leftie due to the angle of attack all day, my bar chords have suffered dramatically, and they were bad before. I am positive that you are all better people for having heard that. Wilco "Being There" 6:52 p.m. - 26.09.2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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