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TORN AND FRAYED
I rode the Magazine Street bus in to work this morning. It was actually a new, air-conditioned bus, which is a minor miracle and it was on time, which is a major one. Unfortunately, one of the Square "characters" got on at Louisiana Avenue. He's a crackhead and an unmedicated schizophrenic so he talked to himself the entire way very loudly. He fancies himself a shoeshine guy when he's really just a head case and a truly nasty piece of work. I got off a stop early so I didn't have to listen to him natter on up close and personal. I have to put up with people like him all the time and prefer to do so at a distance.
I've been listening to a lot of Mick Taylor era Rolling Stones lately. It was their prime as recording artists and the period where they added a twang to their tunes because of the influence of Ry Cooder and Gram Parsons. Here's one of their really cool Country rockers from Exile On Main Street:
I just finished a novel based on the Manson family murders, the Stones'
early years leading up to Brian Jones' death and Altamont, and the
filmmaker Kenneth Anger. Damn, the late '60's were seriously fucked up.