The sky is just starting to lighten up. No sun as yet. It appears cloudy, but anything can happen between now and the actual sunrise.
I woke up this morning and didn’t turn on WRCJ, which plays jazz until 6:00 when it switches to classical — I am a big jazz fan, but I prefer classical in the morning. In any case, I listened to the Doors’ “L.A. Woman” three times. It has one of the great openings of any rock song. I’m now listening to Shostakovich’s symphony #5 that I listen to everyday.
Excuse me as I light my blunt.
So I’m taking my walk around the hood yesterday, and right near the house of the guy who saves parrots, I see an indistinct blob in the middle of the road. A dead animal? No, it’s a work glove. It was laying there on the road with three fingers folded down and the middle finger straight up — it was flipping the bird.
Henry Ford was a great man who changed civilization. He was also the biggest anti-Semite in the world. In the early 1920s Ford published a newspaper called the Dearborn Independent here in Dearborn, Michigan, where Ford World Headquarters is located. Henry wrote his own column every week that was pure anti-Semitism. One of his subscribers was a small new political organization in Munich, Germany, the National Socialist Party, otherwise known as the Nazis. The leader of the Nazis, Adold Hitler, had a signed photograph of Henry Ford on the wall. World famous Henry Ford visited Hitler in Munich in 1923, which gave him an enourmous amount of credibility.
One guy tells another, “If a bear attacks you, reach down, pick up a pile of shit, and throw it at the bear.” The other guy asks, “How do I know there will be a pile of shit there?” The first guy says, “Oh, you take my word for it, there will be a pile of shit there.”
Like the joints of many old folks, my right shoulder has worn out. It’s undoubtedly due to masturbating. So I just started getting a cortisone shots, and they do help, but it still hurts. I get the shot the other day, have packages in my hands, enter my house and find a snake on my kitchen floor coming right for me. I reflexively went into “fight or flight” mode, my system awash in adrenaline, and I turned and threw myself as hard as I could into the wall using my right shoulder as a battering ram. Packages went flying as I fell to the floor in light-flashing stroboscopic pain. My cat Ike watched amusedly. He of course had brought the snake in the house. It was about a two-foot long harmless Garter snake, which now casually slithered right past me out the door. I sat in the doorway for quite a while as the pain slowly subsided and my adrenal gland shut down. Ike continued to sit there looking at me, no doubt thinking, “It’s all going exactly as planned. And now he’ll feed me.”
The sun is up and it’s a beautiful clear day. Shostakovich #5 is just winding up. The third movement of this symphony, my friends, is simply sublime.
The slogan for my movie, “Morning, Noon & Night,” streaming somewhere near you, is: Every day is a miniature eternity.