Despite stepping out on the town last night, I hit the deck this morning with new found motivation. Glum Gus was not fitting the bill for the summer program so I tumbled happily from the wagon and reveled with some notable mavens. Mysterious beers were served in tulips and flutes. I was surrounded by the chatter of the optimistic and the hopeful. Although we were all drinking at the moment and not doing, the talk was all about the do and the soon to be done.
What my party chose to accomplish was to retreat to my porch for sanguine debate concerning the proper order of verses for The Joker; as sung by the Steve Miller Band. The good Mr. Carbrera picked that and so much more on the guitar until the next thing you know, it’s 2:00 A:M and the morning ride is fast approaching.
By submitting to the appetites I broke through a wearied, exhausted feeling I believed to be illness, but more likely was the bland tasting life of the unbalanced, the grim– the lack of the gosh dang joi de vivre!
Riding through a belching steamer of a morning, I watched Shins Burchell launch all things great and small and then we stared at the lily pads.
This may be the slippery slope to a summer of bachanalia, or maybe it is learning to appreciate all things, and the company of notable mavens.