Saturday, September 03, 2011


in 1971, if you were traveling from New York to Miami on the on the Silver Star, there was a piano that you could play in the lounge right next to the club car.

I am telling you that the piano was terribly out of tune. Playing it was very painful and difficult. There was a lot of smoke in the club car. The ice cubes had little divots in them. the Coca-Colas tasted nice and sweet.

I have always thought that everything is alive, I am corny that way, although you say “That’s OK”, and surely the piano was alive, is what I felt, and it was saying, I think: don’t go to Miami, don’t go to Miami. But I always went to Miami, from New York. I wonder if I went from Miami to New York if the train would say: don’t go to New York. Don’t go to New York. The ice cubes would still have divots in them, I think. the Coca-Colas, sweet.

I wonder why ... you know what? I don’t want to talk about why and that piano anymore. Let’s talk about the Woolworth’s in New Hampshire.

One night I threw up from eating chili and I couldn’t eat anything for almost a week. When I finally could eat something, I went to Woolworth’s in New Hampshire with my friend Gabe and had a hamburger. It was delicious.

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