Indie Mexicano

Today I knew I wanted to write.
See the thing is I enjoy writing because I enjoy story telling and I enjoy the latter because carrying a person slowly and gently to a story with no punchline but with a definite climax is a thrill ride.

I've been writing in schizophrenia for the past week and a half with a purpose but no string to tie it all together. I've been settling my affairs in Mexico like a person prepared to never come back. Mentally I think I've checked out - I hope. I've talked to a lawyer, a dentist and doctors (the beginning of a bad joke). They've told me, in order: youre good, youre cavity free and there's this and that and we'll do this and that and youll be ready for life.

I want to pick up the harmonica.

But paralegal busywork and secretary work aside - I've been telling one story.

More times in my mind than in person but the score is almost tied.

So I write in one liners in an attempt to be clever.

Or witty (wiry).

I'm visiting a prune's center with passion on Wednesday and the Monday blues were elevated by several bottles of veenoe and a michelada that reminded me of friends thousands of miles away. I'm missing my half orange (not the kind you have with breakfast).

There were tears at lunch, there was naughty talk and laughs. We scared the locals as we pretended to be above it all for a second only to fall back and note the sad lack of gallon bags of boxed wine (in memoriam Franzia's inventor). We ate argentinian and paired it with a teahouse screaming indy on the third floor of an old house with an awkward balcony overlooking an aged tree and an RC car wash. The man outfitted by what looked like the streets of LA was actually set up in Cd. Guzman and the owner kept massaging the clients as we saw a flower bloom in boiling water.

Tea will never be coffee.

But that is neither here nor there. I'm doing a new kind of praying now and it occurs to me that having a long lasting tv show in which the kids play a semi-significant role is fundamentally flawed as they have the annoying tendency to grow up. Then again, 4 women tend to grow old no matter how many Lawrence's they've met or hideous black tiaras they wear.

Sedaris and Fitzgerald have been an inspiration of sorts lately. The one thought me ocurrences and the interesting perspective of being naked. Not the hot and sweaty heavy naked that is features in sleazy paperbacks but the one in which you walk around the house and everything seems pointy and you relish the 20 second sprint when you're trying to answer the knock on your door. The other gave me some perspective on the 60s? and society and how little society changes despite individuals and bubbles moving ahead or behind as fast as they possibly can.It reminds me of minor things that make major impacts on the life's of thousands of those of us who are overly gifted in ways of values, intellect and materials.

Maybe I should hitch a ride to frisco.