JM, Public Transportation, 8.9.08
Found a bike in front of the apartment building at which I lived a dozen years ago, Rodney & Melbourne, with a post-it on the seat: "Gone to New York, please take to good home." Two flat tires, an old Schwinn beach cruiser; a thought like a detective---mmmm, two flat tires, not one, they're probably just tired---filled the tires, they're still full of air, a week later. One speed...slow...like me. Was sent a recording of the Patti Smith concert we saw at Santa Monica Pier a year ago; had forgotten how good she was at covering Jimi Hendrix's Are You Experienced? Whitewalls on the bike? Called a nutcase at noon on Saturday, after a makeshift manhattan at the Drawing Room; predictable result, a hangup after twenty seconds. John Shannon's book arrives in the mail, conveniently right after finishing French Theory; The Devils of Bakersfield may be my favorite Shannon yet, complete with lesbian occasional sidekick. Found a Master padlock, bought a chain at Baller Hardware, the gents in the hardware store know how to up the purchase unlike any gents I know. The refrain, still in the head: Are you experienced? Saturday evening, cautiously, cautiously, piano, piano, adagio.
