finally. live entertainment returns

On the big stage in downtown Mesa. One night only. One night was plenty.

Posted in margarine | Comments Off on finally. live entertainment returns

seriously. 100 mg of caffeine

I pull onto the street from the apartment parking lot.

There’s a car behind me.

I’m in the right lane of a three-lane street. There’s not much traffic, but the car stays behind Me. Close. Too close.

I’m driving wayyyy below the speed limit. The other car could easily pass me. But it does not.

Two blocks later, I turn onto a side street and pull into a convenience store for gas. The other car also turn, and idles nearby.

I continue driving on the smaller road. I look in the rear-view mirror. the other car is still there.

I can’t think of anything I’ve done wrong. No confrontations, no driving transgressions, nothing to annoy another driver. and still, the car is just behind me.

Two miles later, I pull into the parking lot of the place where I have an appointment. I peek in the mirror. There is the car, 20 feet away.

I have to get out of the car for the appointment. I’m already late. My only weapons are a roll of duct tape and three double espresso Clif gels. I have never been in a fight. There are no witnesses around.

I go into the store. I talk with the people, I take a deep breath, and go outside.

The car is still there.

I walk up to the it. What choice did I have? I get inside. I smooch the driver. I leave my car at the shop to get new tires.

I worry about having left my double espresso Clif gels behind.

Life is all about context …

Posted in margarine | Comments Off on seriously. 100 mg of caffeine

the quotable mo sheppo, part 29

“Paul McCartney is singing in my pocket.”

Or maybe he’s just happy to see her.

Posted in margarine | Comments Off on the quotable mo sheppo, part 29

jesus just left chicago

I got my brown paper bag
and my take-home pay

— the prophets billy f. gibbons and joe michael hill

i grumble that i have only cat-butt coffee mugs.

but then i glance at my current view of the kitten’s rear end, and i’m reminded that art is at its essence a reflection of life.

it’s all about the caffeine. and catnip.

i saw dusty hill play live in 1974. ronny lane, charlie van pelt and i were meandering up and down the drag in san angelo one september evening and had nothing to do, so on a whim we drove all night to austin for the boys’ barn dance and barbecue. tres hombres in a ford falcon. no tickets, no common sense, no note to the parents. craziest thing i ever did. i think i’m still grounded.

it was an experience. santana, cocker, bad company, sunburns that lasted for weeks. standing on the turf of the UT stadium looking in awe at the three coolest guys on the planet.

and now there are only two.

you think those times will last forever, but of course they don’t. the third act sneaks up on you. james taylor’s tortured angst becomes quiet contentment. we still play “imagine” at the opening of the olympics, because 50 years later nobody has come up with a finer song. and bass players take a bow after the final encore. we all die. except keith richards.

i sit happily, content to cherish the memories and sip cat-butt coffee. i look at the photo of me on the “fandango” album, and then at the cat snoring. caffeine and catnip.

i wouldn’t change a thing. you can’t go wrong with caffeine and catnip. and that third album. waiting for the bus all day.

thanks for everything, dusty. if art really is a reflection of life, you led a good ‘un. see you at the next fandango.

i’ll bring sunscreen.


(i’m the one in the baseball cap)

Posted in margarine | Comments Off on jesus just left chicago


she said she needed to see trees.
they were calling her.
but they were there, and we were here.
there would be time.
we always think there will be time.

the storm hit. the world went sideways.
light show; deluge of thunder.
we huddled by our candles
and fought with the smoke alarm.
the darkness prevailed.

today, we go to the park
for our daily commune.
but the trees are splintered,
an epic war lost
after fighting so long.

she pats them goodbye,
says a prayer to the gods
for our friends
who gave us shade
and a home for the birds.

Life is fleeting
even when roots are deep.
you cherish and mourn
their demise, and move on.
a forest of memories.

she said she needed to see trees.

Posted in margarine | Comments Off on trees