Rain

Hi.

I was at Bumbershoot all weekend. So I didn't post yesterday. But I'm posting today.

These are the things I learned at Bumbershoot:

Lyrics Born would really like Seattle to make some noise. Seattle is having no trouble scoring. Lyrics Born seriously would like Seattle to make some noise. Kids dress funny. Lyrics Born is not kidding. Make some noise, Seattle.


This is something I saw at 1am, waiting for a bus to take me home:

A teenager with a carton of orange juice in one hand and a flask in the other. He stumbled by me, walking like a toddler. Walking like he was on a tightrope, and staying on because of luck. The orange juice container was opened in a square at the top, ripped open at every seam. Both his arms were cocked at the elbows, as if he had his arms resting on a bar. He sipped from the flask. He sipped from the orange juice.


I couldn't hear the Wu-Tang Clan's rapping, but I could hear their swearing. The power of the Wu-Tang Clan's profanity cuts through the sound dampening power of concrete and distance.


I saw Roky Erickson. His guitar player is named Cam King. He looks like this. (He's the one who isn't Roky Erickson.)

I learned something Cam King. Guitar face is not age-related. I have decided to discover the neurological mechanism that causes guitar face. When I have found it, I will tell you.

Until then, if you are a neurologist, you could contact me. We could work on this project together.


All this means something. I will search for meaning. And blog, then.


***

Also, Happy Cobra Books (that's me) is about a week away from having the first copies of a book called Creation Stories (by me). Just buying the paper and sewing them up.