Hail to Snockophiles Everywhere.

The summer is severe, dynamic, holy. Afford it your full attention. Ride your bike and go swimming.
I've taken a liking to my regained copy of The French Vest Pocket Dictionary. During which time I was faced with many transportation problems, like, how would I get there. The answer too often was rent a car.
Sandstone Mt. 2765 ft. elevation. WVA I 64
When I last saw eternity it was birds killin time on 9th Av at Kashia's. Pidgeons & dirty sparkles in the dust of the walks.
high top doug firs in the Sandy Mts.
airspace in a quiet irish pub
My new habit of asking for anything I want (within reason) from stage is catching on with some other performers. Requesting all your needs is the way to go once upon a stage. When this started I'm not sure but it has scored the needed several times. Bingo does it to get hootie weed in the tip jar. I even tried for a towing operation in Vermont and got an almost. Flops must be the easiest to fullfil. Flops & weed. Guitar picks even easier. Wine & weed, accompanying musicians, flops are commonly offered. There must be other novelties, but I can't think of something. I think my outlook generally degraded because I'm not traveling in my own vehicle, moreover, that seems to be a retreating option. So my future looks like I shall be a towney. Perhaps in Astoria. I thought of living in the center of our nation instead of on the ends and edges as I've always been. Not too far north so as to be snowed in too much. Not too far south so as to broil in the summer. Where's that? Heaven, I guess. Are you afraid of tornados, earthquakes? You get depopulation; you got no cullture. You love hippies, arteestes and all that, what the fuck, give up & go to LA. Yeah?
recallin how Big Chief Ellis sang, "Where's heaven, where's the sky? I'm feelin blue and I'll tell you why."
This world travel has said what it had to say.
"Who do you love?"
Bo Diddley
yesterday when there came the news that Bo Diddley had died; before I know about it, there above, I had quoted his song's words and written his name. The night before, playing with the rock group, Ida; there was a section where we all were twanging in the key of B and three of them had the diddley bos going. And One String Robbie was there to see it. On the way home in Ida's van I was singing "The Mummy Walk" for them. That's one of my favorite Bo hits. "When you get the mood you just get in the groove and do the Mummy Walk. You know the Mummy can't talk..." Regina told me on the phone that he ws gone. There before me on the table was this journal entry for the day and it said; "Who do you love?...Bo Diddley.
The bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain to see what he could see.
And what do you think he saw?
The bear was you---he wasn't even there---he was just a clue---that you'd better take care or like that old bear it's death to you.
the other night at Lisa's Oak Street Lounge in Louisville KY; the sprocket to my Sony cassette recorder popped off when it dropped to the floor. I didn't discover it till next day afternoon. Called Lisa and went with Bizeeto and Chris back there. Floor had been swept but the tiny sprocket nub and inner spring we found at the bottom of the garbage can after carefully lifting and inspecting each little plastic cup containing beer and butts. It's good that I found these items. Guess Lisa's is pretty nice. First time I got to talking with her much. She's mighty nice. Gave me this cd of her pal, the late Don Pollard; "Covered." He's a soul man.. He does it right. Louisville is a blues town. Don Pollard does a cool "At the Dark End of the Street."
"they say it's a sin, and we know it's wrong
o but my love, it keeps commin on strong.."
you know how it is...
He does "Talk to Me" by Little Willie John,.Do you know that one? I was doin a snockumented version of it. Then got to studying it with Dan Littleton, of the rock group; Ida. But it looks like Don has got this covered.
eternity in the concentration of the world---standin on the corner---four years old sensing it all
you know how it is