"You're writing about dying a lot," my friend Clark says in Doc's Bar during Monty Parks "Tybee Night Acoustic Tuesday Jam.""It's only because so many people keep dying," I answer.
Looking at me with a suspicious eye he asks, "Are you okay?"
"Well," I reply, sipping wine from my Styrofoam cup because it's not cold to touch, "dying's part of living ... it just happens when you least expect it."
"I've been worried about you," he says taking a drawl from his long neck beer.
"I'm good," I answer.
"Okay," he says standing. "It's my turn to play. I gotta go."
It makes me smile.
Playing is the most important part of living.
Clark used to be famous, playing his music on national television, at Dr. Robert Schuler's Crystal Cathedral and God knows where else.
Now he ... and I ... and a crazy cast of others ... play in Bars.
It's Monty Parks fault!
Monty is a musician who thinks he's a politician or ... a politician with a musician's soul ... meaning he's confused as Hell ... just like everybody else elected to Public office ... which is why the Country's so screwed up ... and Tybee has too many Stop Signs, arrogant Police officers and Ministers.
"Hey Clark," I yell as he strolls towards the music, "I ain't going anywhere."
He gives me a thumbs up rushing towards his guitar.
"You good," Monty Parks himself asks? "You going anywhere?"
"Yeah," I answer draining my wine. "I couldn't if I wanted to ... there's too many Stop Signs preventing me from doing so."
"It's for your own good," he says with authority.
"Well thanks then," I reply putting my guitar in its case to get home to Sarah and the girls.
"Do you want ...?" he asks as I rush.
Too late.
I'm already gone.
Running Stop Signs to get home.
