It wasn't the first time he'd passed out in the old blue Adirondack chair in his yard. Over the years, his habit of drinking alone until the wee hours had grown from occasionally to usually . He'd reached the point in life when most of his friends were married, had families and lives, and heavy drinking just wasn't part of their world anymore. Being a bachelor and a man of singular habits, he'd merely accepted it. What woke him was the sensation of something cold and wet nuzzling his inner arm, followed by what felt like a surprisingly large tongue licking his hand. This was different. Without any great response, he looked down to see a bear cub licking his hand. He didn't move. He knew better than to scare a wild animal. He looked around and saw another cub rooting through a now presumably empty bag of Doritos. His yard was lit only by the light above his garage and the dying embers of the fire pit. He noticed empty beer cans on the old picnic table. From the ...
Had a brief chat with my old buddy Dave yesterday. At one point I mentioned his song "Jubilee Train." Excuse me while I ramble on about the song and its personal importance. - MCM I've been a lifelong fan of a band called The Blasters. Fair to say I think they're one of the most important musical acts in my life, and I think it's safe to say the feeling is shared by many. Not familiar with them? Go look them up. In the meantime... Teenage me was, like many others of the time, a mess. Early 1980s. A world of angry young Americans being bombarded with Reaganistic bullshit. It still hasn't trickled down yet, has it? What's the hold-up? Musically, my world was punk rock, old blues, The Beatles, and anything that caught my ear. Enter The Blasters. My cousin and I were helping set up his neighbor's place for a wedding reception. Lots of tables, folding chairs, tablecloths, etc. By no means back-breaking work for a couple of young lads, but it paid a couple ...