So it's done. We are ready
to leave. The vehicle is packed. And now I recall how once we
might have accomplished this past week in an afternoon. In those
days we traveled three months of the year. We were adept in that river,
casual in the hotel foyer, early to setup, quick to take down, drive all
night to get home.
We had grown sour of course. Our
innocent souls lost to 'product'. And increasingly to that bastard
of an expression 'the business of art' as though life was the progeny of
bankers, lawyers and accountants. Selling soap to prisoners.
Remember perhaps that array of words which attempt to define greed
politely, or define it reasonably, or define it with purpose.
Then how proud I was when the wife determined to 'eat worms' rather than
consign her work to the buffalo breed of shop owner. Dainty nailed
people, planning an idle future on the backs of someone else.
I do know why Lenin hoped to pay coalminers more
than doctors. With this mood I am ready for the world beyond
And we both are ready for traffic.