Rock Accountant

“Children’s Chat.”

So when I was about seven, give or take, I got yards and yards of white string and coated it in beeswax. Then, with a hammer and nail, I made a hole in the middle of two tin cans. I ran the string from my bedroom window to my friend’s window in the house next door.
We talked after I said my prayers, all night long. Give or take.
We planned to travel in a car forever when we grew up. We were going to go everywhere on Earth. We would vaguely earn money in between trips by playing professional baseball. He died in Vietnam, and I went ahead with the plan without him.

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Things carried for The Who

We lugged this stupid Space Invaders game from show to show for an entire tour. It was Pete’s only observable outside activity. I vaguely remember it being a gift from Harvey Weinstein. Courtesy Jackie Curbishley

It may have been the same tour Daltrey had the cost-saving epiphany regarding all the loose backstage wine and liquor after each show and taking it with us. Keith Moon, never a man prone to bitterness, was sorely tested with this short-lived cottage industry. It tragically also slowed our crew’s growing intimacy with two-hundred-dollar French wines. We had to add another small truck and driver, which comically trailed the endless 40 ft tractor-trailers from gig to gig.

So Townshend shows up in this gigantic stuffed puffy coat someone convinced him was “hip” at the beginning of one winter tour. He had to wear it because it was too big to carry. His purse had to take it from him before getting into a limo because it wouldn’t fit. The guy raced to the venue to be there when he got out.

He soured badly on this coat when he realized it had no buttons and had to be held shut.

A few of us barely got any sleep because we were laughing so hard. The coat disappeared in the middle of the tour.

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LvWwtfKiGUk&list=PLp8sncEUV-K72wfEfZdoM4VWO5UpYK3Xl

My dog ate God

The part of God I brought back with me from almost dying this weekend is sitting in my yard, arguing with my dog.

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The Last Supper for the Dead puppies.

Molly held the dog’s
litter in her arms
as they died
one by one,
in the order,
they had been born.
Not named,
no eyes opened.
Gracie looked up at her
sensing the change
in her puppies
or just the slow panic
in Molly.
Molly grabbed the box
of dead dogs
and headed out the door.

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