Fare Thee Well June 28, 2015Posted by The Typist in cryptical envelopment, Dancing Bear, Grateful Dead, music, Shield of Beauty, The Narrative, The Typist.
The Last Waltz.
I was in a foul mood last night, buying cigarettes with the thoughtless compulsion of a junkie, when “Satisfaction” came on the satellite channel. Satisfaction is not a young man’s problem. It is an issue for an aging man who will not settle comfortably into a finale of routine mediocrity.
I have a new CD of Garcia and a copy of the heavy green vinyl repress of the second album to open the evening, to invoke His spirit before the live stream. I have the necessary cables to wire the laptop to the TV and the TV RCA out to the Yamaha AUX in. I have juat enough of the Jah-blessed remedy.
I have enough space on the mantle for some rearrangement into an altar to the four fingered Mojo hand of The Spirit in the Stings which will be both absent and present, at once a Doleful and Glorious Mystery.
We shall, in the words of Sun Ra, erect a shield of beauty over the earth.
Tonight the Fortress of Squalitude shall become The Broke Down Palace. We shall roll, roll, roll.