I’d wandered the beach for quite some time after my dream, enjoying the sunset, and it was a good one, a large, dark orange oval that when it started to merge with the horizon, it spread all the way across it. Wow!

The smoke had mellowed me out by that time and the Crown just added to the after-burn.  No, I don’t indulge like I used to, back - as they say ‘in the day,’ for if I did… hmm…. Yeah, I used to be pretty much an ‘every’ – day/night – guy, but, hell, it was fuel for my lifestyle or vice versa… and yes I ran on all cylinders most every day – and ‘loved’ it. Wouldn’t of had it any other way and my friends would of thought me ‘ill’ if I wasn’t on the move, checking out things you know … like women and women.  Geez…. Without women in this world I would have become a hermit on a mountain top before turning 21…. And No! I wouldn’t have been better off, and any man, or perhaps woman now-days, yes, who would laugh and tell you that they would have been better off without women…. Would just be ‘stone-blooded’ lying to you.

Sitting here at my desk playing this keyboard like a musical instrument listening to “Shotgun,” by Junior Walker and the All Stars,” has me cranked up –like my stereo - or maybe I’ve got myself cranked up and the music is just, yeah, ‘adding to the after-burn… you call it – in the air though.

Yeah, right.  Like - I don’t have a shot-glass of Crown on this desk with smoke sneaking ‘all around,’ trying to curl its way into the alcohol.  Like I said, ‘wouldn’t have it any other way.’

“Shake you Down, by Gregory Abbot,” has just started playing….Wow! …below are some of its lyrics, although they do not do the song justice.

Girl, I’ve been watching you

From so far across the floor’ now baby

That’s nothing new

I’ve watched you so many times before now baby

I see that look in your eyes

And what it’s telling me

And you know girl that I’m not shy

I’m glad you picked up on my telepathy now baby

Yeah, I feel good… it’s a good day, cepting Pup is not feeling real good, but I’m hoping she kicks out of it when her daughter and grand-daughter gets here, which means I’ve only about another hour on this ‘glow-stuff’ before I have to ‘hide it,’ shit, I hid it from parents, children, and grand-parents back in the day, but now I’m having to hide it from ‘parents, children, and now grand-kids, geez…. Replaced one generation with another didn't I?

I love drifting in and out of here, to the land of ‘nowhere man,’ what a gas, wish it was real.  Several of you commented about the lack of clothing in that faraway place, hmm…. I’ve never been shy, and social structures have always seemed to get in my way, but for the most part I’ve kept it in line, for the most part.  …

anywho ---- as “Lookingforlucy” says, “you don’t need clothes in heaven.”  Tell me that’s wrong?  Hey! Grab a hold, let’s go to the land of the ‘nowhere man,’ yes?

It’s night; right after that beautiful sunset I was talking about at the beginning of this article, remember?  The street we are on is wide, no cars, no trucks, just people….  People walking, and yes, most of them are without clothes, and so what?  What’s wrong with not hiding behind ‘puffed out clothes,’ not a thing Clyde, but then again when it’s cold – give me clothes man, heavy coats and all that stuff, but heck, it ain’t cold on this street-is it?  Heavily lit bars and clubs line both sides of the street, and music blares from within all of them, and for a moment I think I’m in New Orleans, but, no, this isn’t N.O., this is more like heaven, than anything.  Or, at least what one like me might envision heaven to be like.  I soak the music up, and a ‘skip’ develops in my already lively step; the night is young as they say, and ‘hot damn,’ you don’t say?

Suddenly I get an opposite remembrance, of another city, this one in Europe, yeah, it’s Nuremberg, Germany, and the street is narrow, the buildings on both sides, dark and reclusive, and I’m driving my VW like it’s a race car, while the music in the car is blaring, and she’s looking at me, and me her.

We’re headed for a party in Furth, and naturally I’ve caused us to be somewhat late, though it’d been worth it.  The dinner at the little Italian Restaurant had been fantastic and with the weather ‘mild’ this time of the year, we’d sat outside at a little table, and watched people walk by on the lightly traveled sidewalk in front of us.  “Glorious.”

“You ever wondered,” she said, in her slightly tinted German accent, “what’s on the other side?”  I’ve known Vera for 8 months, and we’ve had many the philosophical conversations, but it had always amazed me how she could start one in almost any situation.  “Are you thinking my driving might get us to the other side quicker than you want?”  She laughs, and lights the joint I’d given her a few minutes ago, and through the smoke, I see the ‘grimace’ just before the smile as she exhales.

“D, you know I don’t worry about what I can’t control,” which was correct, for she had the uncanny ability to shrug off worries that would give ulcers to some.  “Well, you know I do, (think about what's on the other side) so I only wonder why you’d ask a question you knew the answer to?”  “Because I was just thinking as I was watching you drive, that if you’re lucky and live to be 90 you probably won’t change much.”

This provokes a gentle laugh from me, and with a shrug I move the thought out of my mind.    Who in hell wants to think about being 90 years old anyway?  “So, I say with a smile, what’s that got to do with the other side?”  “Nothing, she says, absent mindfully, as she looks out her window, “it’s just that I saw a falling star the other night, and I want to think that whenever you see one – you’ll always think of me.”

And, you know what? 

I always think of Vera when I see a falling star.