Life in the Elevators
By D. DeWitt Johnston
Book 1, Chapter 30
The Summer of Love brought together the last of the baby boomer breed
and silouetted them on the history screen in vague shadows of undefined
purpose. The bleeding ghosts whose sad stories were told then forgotten
and retold so that the story never got to the real truth. The times
were hopelessly insensitive to adequately provide for self esteem or
any sense of identity for such an unhappy vagabond as myself who was
more dead to society than my straight friends and jerkoff aquaintances.
Intelligent rational behavior is only relevant to the specific task,
however; awareness and enlightenment provide peace of mind in a context
which enables the implementation of intellegence. Enlightened purpose
and meaning combined with forethought bring positive results throughout
life until the circle ends in death. Ah death... the total wreck of all
the bits and pieces which are scattered for eternity into infinity. Why
pursue it?
"Stop, listen to this," said angel eyed Tommy, "I've got some new
lyrics. 'Drawn from the realm of unchanging and its union nourishes on
, in the right re-arranging, 'til the last confusion is gone.
Waterbrothers trust in the ultimust of the always singing song, they
pass along.' What do you think?" "Great," I said, "where is Stacy?
Let's play it. Go find Galindo and let's get this down on tape." Tommy
picked up his old ceramic jug and we walked toward the rock hunting
house in the back. Roky was there practising his guitar. I slipped
behind my drums and we began to play. I have never heard a white kid
with a style so much like James Brown's rhythm and blues. We warmed up
with a couple of old tunes like 'You're Gonna Miss Me'. Roky is the
same way with melodies as Tommy is with lyrics. Roky comes up with the
melody line and meter while Tommy chisels out the words.
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