|
December 13, 2002 Dave had his last final today. Hooray Dave. Dave and I pulled Duke's motor the other day thanks to the bodacious gift of time and space given me by SharkTruck Sean, his son Jason and his business partner John. Here are some shots of us doing the nasty. Engine out, repaired and back in the car running in about 12 hours. I'm becoming a motorhead. God help me. Went hiking today at a place an hour north of Albuquerque called Tent Rocks. Cricket and I wound our way up and through the canyon full of these ancient tent and penis-shaped formations in a couple of hours. It was major thigh-master workout time for out of shape moi. It was weird, though. Cricket and I hardly spoke the whole day. I'd like to set the record straight by saying that Cricket was one king-helluva good copilot in our severely mechanically-addled jaunt across Texas and into New Mexico this past September. Queen.. helluva good. She was great, and she gave it her all, heart and soul and a lot of fundage in hotels and auto parts. I never could have afforded that trip, but she made it happen and unfortunately that story never got told because I was too damn busy slaving under Duke's hood the whole time to write about it. She really was the best one-run copilot I've ever had in Duke, I think, aside from Jill who was, by dint of time and tolerance, the best partner I've ever had. But Jill axed any current chance at reconciliation and good feelings just last night when she once again equated her red wine binges with my penchant for sedatives. I'm sorry, but there's just no comparing REPEATED VIOLENT INCIDENCES OF EMOTIONAL & PHYSICAL ABUSE BY A DEMONIC BEING SPRUNG FROM A BOTTLE with the non-violent, non-aggressive, dumbed-down, valium-stupor of doctor prescribed pills for someone who genuinely suffers from episodes of acute anxiety. No comparison. Both methods of coping? No, sorry. The foul shit that came outa Jill's mouth and that was frequently punctuated with punches to my gut in over a dozen separate episodes in the year before I called it quits was not coping. It was exploding, and it was disgusting and hurtful. I never hit that woman. I never cheated on her. Hooray for her for putting up with and nurturing a depressive for so long, but it was her alcoholism that terminated the deal. Whoa. Strayed a bit there. Sorry. Just a little bitter after walking through my old house last night, the house I worked so hard on to improve, that I lived in and loved and accentuated artistically, a little hard to see other people occupying that space and me, a year hence, homeless, lost, damaged goods. Anyway, thank you Cricket for all you gave me in our brief journey together. I did you wrong, an error of omission, by merely beating my breast over losing you. Fuck it. I'm no Shakespeare. Gotta get outa this town. Away from these women, this pain of loss. Duke's fixed. Thanks, Sean. Thanks, Dave. Now what? Me and Flash the ferret and the Chevy de los Muertos are heading west, I do believe. Gonna go see the nephooos for Christmas. Then maybe hit an Al-Anon meeting. Meet some other folks who got metaphorical whiskey bottles smashed over their heads and hearts, then got blamed for the leaving they had no choice but to do. -His Lordship Freak the Mighty Duke
|
