"no scientific evidence or environmental concern is going to find fertile ground in the compost of your thoughts."
kenneth bay
Dear Sir,
It has come to my attention that the publishing house may need to
intercede in the editor’s offices. Currently and unbenowst to the managing editor in
charge, the staff has been involved in a rather tawdry standoff dividing equally
those for and against a certain color prototype and style of totebag sporting the
deaddrift logo emblazoned on the side in fuscia and key lime largo green.
It is not the usual routine for the editing department to confer, worry,
bother, hassle, or discuss this type of problem, which i agree is strictly the domain
and resolution of the editing department with you and your offices and staff. Yet
this is one of those unforseen dilemmas that I face everyday, life is full of decisions,
you provide the answers ( if i interpret the forge contract dated 8/23/98 correctly}.
The key discussions seem to focus on the overuse of fuscia in the
background and some want to use a rather starker approach and just go full largo
green without the key lime. Now that is really just how it started. From there the
spiral in staff moral seemed to deepen the mood until those choosing sides were
seating themselves in the cafeteria in opposite areas, leaving many empty tables
between the groups that no one would clean up until a large wall of unfettered lunch
garbage built up over the weeks, from heaps to piles to large unmanageable waste
pits that the custodial staff refused to deal with. You see some of my problems here.
So far my office has followed a don’t look, don’t ask policy as stated in the
company manual and reinforced by the emergency memo from the publisher 9/8/99.
Many of my powers of course as manager come from my contract of course
and my close friendship with the publisher. The legal department is not getting into
this as they want larger totebags to hold laptops and the discussion here is about
totebags that are smaller, more for the beach, just cotton. I know, the company is
for all hemp products. But know that the supplier was stopped at the border last
month and our cheap supply of hemp cloth totebags and the whole shipment is still
being held by customs. I have been in constant communication with my Mexican
friend, Raul, who works in customs and he says maybe three to four months till the
case comes to trial and the cloth will then be released to us.
Until then we have been using long staple egyption cotton 50/50 blend
purchased in Naples (bulk lot container), shipped to Holland, delivered to New
York, railed to Chicago, trucked to Omaha, and I just usually send in George from
delivery to pick it up.
Many of the staff are still broken up emotionally in the change over to
cotton. Refer to memos: 4/6/00 and the more intriging and puzzling memo sent to
you the morning of the walleye tournament when the boat broke down mid-day. I
believe you said your copy got wet and was unreadable. I will send copy when my
secretary comes back from her sabbatical at My Lady of the Miraculous Healing
Center and Ashram. We all feel this is best she goes now before the Christmas rush
season which is difficult to book time at My Lady etc. Seems the holidays were
always her favorite time to go too. That deepened her depression and she at the last
there was a shadow of her former robust health. And then the totebag question
came up and she just snapped. Too much pressure after the hemp debacle for her i
am afraid. Just changed over night. Wouldn’t even participate in casual fridays or
bring her dog, Ska, to work on wednesdays anymore. She said she felt sad the dog
had to sit there at her feet and not play with the other office dogs. But the dog
fought continually with the other office dogs on Wed. and he was overweight for
his frame and well, he wasn’t Lassie if ya know what I mean. But I believe she and
Raoul had exchanged a few too many emails if ya know what I mean.
But i digress,
I realize your time is precious to you between the fishing expeditions, the
promotions tours, the opening of La Scala in Oct., and the many things you tell me
you do and your staff memos me that you do, and of course i follow the European
press of the travels and lunchdates in Brussels. I follow the paper trail here with aid
from finance and I see you still have that penchant for Viennnes silk products from
that little shop outside Tuscany. They are fine stuff, but of course on my salary out
of the question.
Actually, the whole flap of the totebags and color came down to I wanted
the exact shade used by the group that put out the last dylan tour t-shirts that come
out of Vancouver of all places. It is stone-washed kinda blue green and fits our
demographics of yuppie buying tastes I read about in a Cosmopolitian my wife read
to me at breakfast. Real cutting edge shade.
Sending you color swatches and if you could get back to me ASAP as our
computer aided design dept. is attending that seminar on snowboarding in Vail.
You may want to check the voucher’s on that group. They overtip. A Penny Saved
is A Penny Earned I have heard you say that at each director’s meeting. My staff
here follows that faithfully as it is engraved over the entrance door like you said too.
Please check the swatches. Production here is down till you make the call.
Sincerely,
Kenneth D. Bay, Managing Editor, Midwest Division, Deaddrift.com
here's dd publisher's horoscope oct. 15, 2002
Horoscope (by astronet.com)
“You could develop a great deal of emotional objectivity right now. Your
sense of the trends of the times and your knowledge of what the public needs
and wants could lead to important research projects. You may be able to
bring about some utopian dreams that relate to the environment, conditions
in your community, or events that are important for ecology or the
lifestyles of others. By October 27, you will be ready to take action on
many levels.”
but no big dd push. we got other irons in the fire and redesigning the structure of the corporate dd presentation of information and content assimilation, retention, and will be a research and analysis time for us. hey i gotta be tough. this ain't no girl's school. this is fishin camp. stay low under the radar low cover and incognito, wear the brown sensible shoes and get lots of sleep we got fishin to do spring fishin shapen up to a 4-5 state deal. requires sensible shoes.
yes. surrounded by legal pads and stun guns, smoking big guns and planning the southwest future. land o milk land o honey n trout n fruit n eden gardens amid the garden of the desert spirits who blessed me yes blessed me and told me spirit told me through an earth mother teacher healer of the new southwest that i am again being tested, that i must leave the negative and pain of betrayal and go through the test, lose the hate, lose the loss, and come home to the garden, all is there, the apple tree eden, now a raised bed garden is there, created in chuck's mind and formed by walt and cindy and kenn. now watered, waiting for germination in the cool spring of 4,800 ft. elevation in utah. the garden underground waiting for our fall visit. of plenty in the land o milk and trout and fruit for you n me n yours n ours n theirs n anybody's because we got rows of sweet corn growing for ya on you new dd southwest offices and rancho deluxe suites.
i almost got the last report done. want to get it up before i leave for vegas and into the world of fat marty. oh yeah looks like we might go. maybe fat marty for sure. vegas calls, ya answer. you know the drill. when are you gonna retire and follow me into another adventure? some life changing event ya regret for the rest of your rational adult life but secretly cherish as more precious than air and water to your soul.
"...cold with a burning delight..."
need to kick the long winter coals out and ride I-70 again in a haze and fury of pending doom and financial ruin and go for the zen desert the open skies and the places of rock and dust and heat. soul spring cleaning.
heavy shit be comin down. the endgame i thought was the endgame was just the beginning of the endgame.
the beast is awake and being attacked at all levels.
always wanted to show you the mojove at night on the lake with the woman all sunburned and the boat tied up secure and lots o beer and did i say ladies of course in swimmin attire and the water is clear warm as bath at all hours of the night.
keep an eye on the buzzards they wait for ya to dehydrate and keel over, you bet, the vultures are always awake and flying high above ya.
and the striper fishing.
ah the striper fishin. just cast into the swarming school of scattering baitfish as the big bass herd the bait into the coves and then into shallow water and then they literally jump out of the water to escape onto the hot sandy beaches. just a little moment in vegas for the upper echelon of ddrift. maybe drive up to st. geo to see the possible new las vegas area branch office of deaddrift southwest. did you get the pictures i sent? doesn’t this look like a good place to hold and house and entertain the dd first annual banquet and awards ceremonies and festivities? did ya see the size of the houseboats all air conditioned and several full kitchens and several bathrooms each? fat marty was on the top deck of his when i first met him. third deck ballroom on a houseboat. with 3 ceiling fans spinning the warm night and champange bubbles in my head. and the first thing he said to me was, “what are you bitchin about? you are in las vegas!”
did i tell ya about the submerged grand canyons all about on full moon nights and a huge boat pulls into the cove, big enought to be a great lakes cruiser and on the bow is a deck and on the deck is a rock and roll band and they anchor about sundown and start to play about 11 pm and then it gets amazing with coyotes howling and people on shore shooting fireworks out into the cove? and the stars and stars and stars and mojhave stars forever stars and warm water and 5 in the morning drunk ya can walk right out into the backed up colorado with no shivers. none. just engulfing warmth of the sun held in the lake mead days into nights. wouldn”t ya look good strollin down to the boat, with a beer in yer hand? that is the dock we tie the boat too. oh yeah. these shots are all the marina front yard.
did ya get my last transmission called pearls before swine? i caught yer drift about singin to the choir so i am doing a solo. again. the choir needs reawakening at the home stretch. complacency is the revolutionary’s greatesy enemy. ya can quote me on that one jack. i got a million of em. so the content is comin. if too much. i will cease and desist. but the new wrinkle of the new dairy needs to go up and some other coalition building i am trying to do to bring together in one place. i have my ways of getting coverage. we need the power of coalition to win now. power brokering is my business so i know these things and time for us to listen up.
we need all the coon hounds around the governors tree. all baying {sorry couldn’t resist.} and keeping him up the tree till the dogs are pulled down and put in their kennels. the other night on a pbs nebr. show on one of the canidates for something or other, a lady stood up in the question and answer and took over the place with her insistance to talk about cafo hell. one of our warriors i bet.
i know the main players now and they are listening. now we give em the songs. switch off the muzak and go for the gov. and his dairy inititive team. here is a new deal just between us not ready for publish or further dd
i am learning the tools so we can do this full time with assistants and a water cooler and an office philodendren that needs watering and a smart ass secretary that wont do what i say when i say. and trash cans overflowing with pizza boxes and 24 packs of pepsi and no cash flow and no hot water in the office mens john so when ya are hung over ya gotta go into the ladies to wash your face and look into the greasy mirror smudged with 11 kinds of lipstick and see the years of ddrift toil in the lines in your face the puffy eyelids from a weekend of abuse in vegas and sunburned nose peeling in nose sheets ya can peel for a foot or more off, and you will think to yourself. i should have got electronforge.com before wayne did. that bastard. everything would have been different. things would have been easier, simpler, more futuristic and shiney and well molded and sleek did i say sleek? your call the clock is ticking. the dot com clock is tick tick tickin away as you read this. no lag time. no note from your momma. when i go back to my real life. jeez. i had the real world. i gave it back.
the point is here ya go starten another fire storm back here. at least i am out here workin the crowd lookin for hideouts to fish and play till this all blows over.
that is what editor's are for. also i have been informed that a house in the netherlands rents for 150 american a month. hmmmmmmm
but now i am off track completely and late night rambling. hopefully you are long in bed. but somebody has to work the late shift and watch your back while you concentrate on the forge work. a look out as it were. or like i am. or like i was.
what was i saying?
oh yeah a fire storm of shit and travail and innuendo and enmity and a bit more travail some breast beating and some out and out running around naked yelling all the way home and then maybe just a touch more travail and then just heavy breathing and of course the ever favorite just plain muttering obscenities under the breathe.
oh yeah. some serious consternation. some immediate rural agitation. and i don't think they see it comin.
ready eddy?
yer patient and indulgent editor at large, not real large, just large enough to get the job done. no braggin just truth. why would i lie?
ps my real job is to entertain you while you work in the galleys. says in contract.
check it just to satisfy yerself. but it is there. rest assured it is there and ya signed it.
so there i am in vegas gettin the bean counters finding me when i had deleted all the figures i thought, but those guys now have a lazer retriever on the business machines and routinely scour the discs to see what i have deleted. so now i use my compaq armada for all stuff they don't need to know. but i did answer the letter from the publisher. ya gotta keep the publisher happy. really do. they hold the hammer of the forge.
so here is my reply to the home office.
Dear Sir,
I understand your concerns concerning my upcoming first assignment out of town. Of course, I want to allay those fears as I included in the prospectus that Ms. Money will be traveling with me. I thought an officer in the corporation and from the financial division would keep me informed on a moment to moment basis on the necessary expenditures in keeping with the dignity of the position I have been entrusted with. An item by item list will be provided via fax on a daily basis provided by Ms. Money. She gets up early and
after her run and brunch will phone at 10: 00 am each day. These updates should be self explaining. The mini-bar fees should be comparable to those in Omaha say, or Souix City. The rumors of Vegas being more expensive is erroneous. The new family approach in Vegas precludes gouging anymore, not like in the old days when I stayed in the Sands.
Now we should discuss some of the points in your letter. As to the dress code. I find that in the “field” I should comport myself as a cool local. I find I recieve more information if dressed comfortably with a loose fitting hawaiin shirt cool and cool in the hot vegas afternoons around the pool. As only the mafia dresses in Vegas as you have requested I find that dangerous and unproductive in my reportage techniques. Ms. Money also will be charging some Nieman-Marcus Vegas mall attire when we arrive. As she was forced, er, in a hurry before departure, she did not have time to pick up some underthings and nite wear. As I told her then, grab yer suit we goin to vegas. I shot a guy in dockers
once, but have never worn a pair. they look quite comfortable.
As to the allegations of my mini-dress episode, it so happens i was on assignment from larry flynt yes the larry flynt and i had to escape a pool party when the local cops busted down the door and i inadvertantly in the melee, slipped on something to dive out
the window in and of course it was rather dark except for the candles and such and so i ended up mistakenly, accidently in ms. money’s little black number. and her satin pumps. at least they matched the outfit.
As to the financil flags popping up i wouldn’t worry unduly. I am sure that Johnson in accounting has it in for me. Ever since the party when Ms. Money rejected his advances and was found later on her knees fixing my zipper that he has used his position to undermine my fiduciary records. I would keep an eye on him as I find most of the chits i send in are reasonable and then he will add a few zeros and pocket the difference. He did it that time i went to Barbados and i agree my bar bill was a tall drink of water but he padded it with massages etc. that i did not recieve. To save money Ms. Money has agreed to serve as massuese for the trip and as this service will be done in house this will save at
least 80 dollars american per session. Ever since my last visit to utah when i threw my shoulder into a 3 year spasm from casting too much on the Seviour Resevoir i have needed several sessions per day especially after punchin the keyboard sessions. this is a professional need as described in the contract page 73b. paragraph 7 line 4 where it states quite clearly in three languages and i quote: “Mr. Bay shall and until further notice shall and will recieve “professional need” expenses commensurate and equal to or exceed not withstanding more than those professional peers in the profession of ddrift reportage.”
And again on page 174 para. 11 lines 3, 8, 11 dealing with “professional needs shall be catagorized as; transportation, clothing allotment (see page 118 LL Bean section) gear either digital or duffel shall be secured with the newly issued Cabela’s corporate account number 128393”, opened yesterday by Ms. Money, and as stipulated in the hiring negotiations i must travel 1st class. it is my allergies with cheap fleece. and the tourist class is full ot cheap fleece. sorry but the watery eyes and itching interfere with my reporting style. this is documented in my medical profile assembled by the good sisters of
our clinic of fallen nuns, in cedar falls. see appendix c “allergies and insomnia affect sexual disfunction.”
further pro needs are;
1. french sun block 2 cases delivered to room 1433 the Pellagio Hotel each morning at 9. Ms. Money has sensitive skin exposed by the new thong outfit.
2. secure line installed before arrival with cover aol link up required to fool the cia or fbi or any other 3 letter org. looking for me from past assignments. sure your past follows you, just got to tread lightly and leave no mocassin tracks.
3. ping pong table set up with tournament paddles and balls specified in contract in the epilogue pages. gets me loose to write and since i don’t go out of the room much i need the exercise it provides. at the present time Ms. Money is ahead 3 games to 1 in our round robin tournament. you haven’t lived unless you have played topless pong with Ms. Money and lost. of course i have this shoulder thing goin on.
4. fillets flown in from omaha each week. send at least an even dozen, i like to
entertain and nothing says lovin like steaks in the oven. this may seem extravagent but i need the protein. after a strenuous workout on the pong i like a fresh salad, light wine, pringles and a good fillet.
5. as to the viper expense. it corners great. it has the acceleration i may need to escape from say maybe the pig boys, or local mafia thinkin i am tryin to dress like them or maybe some of the ex-husbands of Ms. Money which seem to pop up in each city we visit at the most embarrassing times.
6. as for weapons, i find the corporation provided tools are inadequate for my needs and i will provide my own. you should update the weapons used by field agents. safety first. you who live in gated communities don’t realize the streets i work or the tools i need. and come reimbursement time remember i am packin and you got a company issued trigger lock that jams. you do the math.
7. as the “working women of vegas” is in progress i expect a special rate at the
mustang ranch and by the way jennifer says hi and she stopped using the creme and the itching started again and she thought it best you get checked again.
8. evian water. the big bottles. cases and cases. send em with the fillets. i don’t bathe in hotel water. sorry just a personal thing.
Now i realize i have more needs than listed but Ms. Money { known as honey} shall itemize compartmentalize conceptualize and verbalize as only she can in conferance calls on tues. at 2. answer on 3rd ring, hang up. and wait for 2nd call answer on 5th ring.
Please have no contact with me until the end of the next moon phase. don’t ask.
Sincerely, or as close to sincerity as i can get,
kenneth d. bay managing editor at large deadddrift.com
"everything in the circus is pushing the possible beyond it's limits." charles eames
as if being in vegas on this assignment was so easy, with me so broke, and i get this letter from my publisher. i am new with the company, but no fool, i could see this coming. you see i did not need a job because i already had one. deaddrift editor. took up all my time between fishing. even in the past two years devoured whole chunks of my life, i hadn't met fat marty yet. still a few days in the future, which looked as black as the basalt mountain chunks looming over lake mead grand canyon style. so here is the letter...you see what i am working with here...
"Dear Mr. Bay,
I would like to welcome you to Brute Forge productions, gnuforge division.
We are looking forward to your report from Las Vegas.
Since this is your first assignment with our firm I would like to remind you
of a few guidelines we require of our offsite reporters.
Dress Code:
As was discussed with you at the new employee briefing we do adhere to a
strict dress code.
Though the proper attire is not actually spelled out, you will not on line
10 paragraph 3 on page 29 it states that attire "should reflect that of a
professional" nature. That specification is usually adequate to guide one in
suitable attire for the job. Doing so allows us to delegate the choice to
the employee without dictating some sort of a corporate "uniform". It also
assumes an understanding and an appreciation for acceptable corporate
fashion.
In talking with your managing advisor, Ms.Honey Money, I am concerned about
your interpretation of "acceptable corporate attire".
Ms. Money has reported to me when you were asked to appear for your
interview in proper corporate dress that you literally arrived in a
"corporate dress".
While she thought it quite stunning, the black off the shoulder minidress
you chose may not be suitable for all occasions. Even elegant accessorizing may not be adequate in overcoming our more staid client's unease with such
transgender displays.
I am not sure if this was some sort of misunderstanding or if it was some
sort of rebellious statement. In the event that it was the former, we prefer
that such crossdressing not spill over into your professional life.Let me reiterate, Dockers and a blue button down long sleeve shirt is as
wild as we get in this corporation. (Sandals with dark socks is our
concession to casual.)
Cash Advances:
Ms. Money also informed me that you asked for an unusually large cash
advance for the trip. While we wish to assist our off site staff with
unexpected expenses when withdrawals exceed the $100,000 mark it raises a
few flags. If you would be so kind as to explain the use of said funds will
assist accounting in determining the necessity of your planned expenditures.
In particular:
Airfare: 1324.04 First Class flight Omaha to Las Vegas International
Staff reporters usually fly coach if the destination exceeds
on days driving distance of
500 miles.
Car: 6342.32 Rental fee for Dodge Viper for 5 days.
The standard rental is to cover gas and mileage for a
subcompact vehicle as long as all
mileage is accounted towards allowed business
transportation. Meticulous documentaion will help you avoid denial of reimbursement.
Hotel: 2254.54 Mustang Ranch Casino Hotel While we appreciate the need to reside in comfortable lodging during a business trip we
contract exclusively with Best Western which have vacancies
within the minimum 11 mile limit to Las Vegas.
Misc: The remaining 90,000 sum for miscellaneous expenses was
inadvertently transferred to an anonymous off shore account. I am not sure how this got by Ms. Money after her meeting with you she seemed uncharacteristically disorganized and distracted. While she attributed it to some sort of virus she has been vague on her success in recovering those
funds. She keeps assuring me that you are quite honorable
and that those funds will be returned. I am relieved that Honey Money will be
accompanying you on your first trip as she will be better able to advise you on unwise spending.
Aside from these "misunderstandings" we wish you luck on your first assignment, and we are looking forward to the piece you have outlined on "The working Women of Las Vegas".
Much of our readership demographic is the professional woman and your
article is important to retaining their loyalty to our women's issues
portal. We anxiously await your daily reports.
WS, President
waking in the furnace that is lake mead even in fall, in september full moon,
the fishing moon is wonderous. but i wasn't there to just fish, no, it is never that simple for a fisherman, and for fly fisherman you multiply the impediments triple fold, no, i was running, from business hassles and financial worries. running fast.
"no direction at all" as mr. dylan said. all prophesy that dylan. coming to vegas to rest up like bugsy did.looking for the last of the west, prospecting the last gold, the last vein to pan out, swirl the grains from the sand.
my first meeting with fat marty wasn't a meeting and it wasn't a job interview. didn't want no job. didn't want work.
unless both involved me fishing. just fishing. the creek fight, the business fight. well, they bring ya down.
keep ya from fishing. and it was an election year. painfull, but true. i thought i was immune from politics and the shills out front hawking their wares and out spinsoundbiting each other...
they all sound like clones, especially in front of a crowd...
on arriving in vegas airport i was deplaned and immediately lost in the ding-ding of the slots and milling people glazed eyes comin and goin from the mythical vegas full power pedal to the metal. vegas yes, and all i wanted to do was escape before the deaddrift tee logo caught someone’s eye or heaven forbid full eye contact, and here i was lost in the terminal and no face in sight from the flight, the plane which was mysteriously empty but for me and few fbi handlers at a discreet distance, only two of us in whole section of the plane i was on. only about 10 folks in whole jet and the crew. and i want to thank them for their fine hospitality while i was in the air. as i was a bit wasted from the previous pre-flight night up to about 2 am tying size 18 red annelids imitations about two dozen of the little ones red floss with copper wire ribbing and a small red glass bead for a head. for the faraway san juan tailwaters just in case ya never know the west is a big place and the days of sept. are wonderful in the west. clear crisp days with full blue sky a wonder of clouds or cloudless days with the sun burning over the valleys with no wind and mystical red mountains and horizons piled on horizons of purple shadowed ranges stretching into the infinite western horizon.
and so i traipsed around the area i deplaned for a clue to my luggage carousel. first of all, no raul to meet me and drag these damn bags through the terminal, he is always predictable as to be unpredictable. no raul. wayne will hear about this and his hiring relatives to perform even the simplest of tasks. but no. luckily the stewardesses from my flight from omaha walked by me when i was the most frantic and seriously considering throwing some quarters into a machine until i was paged by c.h.s. and whisked away. well the good girls of the air got me steered on the tram thing that took me to the other side of vegas terminal hell and pointed me off to retreive all the camping gear i own and all the damn flies for the fall west i could stuff into a duffel. and my rods in rod case. oh lordy i worry about em traveling. but lo eventually they were spit forth intact from the belly of the airport beast unmolested and ready to drag to the car passenger area. as there was no raul i had to perform this dragging thing with the two duffels, day pack, and rod tube. and i had no idea where the car passenger area was. so i asked the cia guy who was shadowing me as i got my stuff. he was tryin to be cool and not be noticed but i just walked straight up and asked him directions. and said nice suit. and then dragged bent over all this gear i need to travel and survive the west. far west. farouthere west. where trout only locals know and die with the secret know west.
and as i piled my gear on the street with folks comin and goin in tempestous glory of american travel and being in vegas. flyin in. the excitement was thick. and just when i thought i was going to be there for days. up drives ch. s. and scoops me and gear up and the next moment i am spitting sunflower seeds out the window of a nice white conversion van eqipped with tv and working cigarette lighter. and chs and i talking and smiling and flying high towards lake mead callville bay and the glorious waters of the colorado bound by that big ole hoover dam.
that night i slept on the porch, coyote packs roamin the huge parking lot. screamin and yowlerin at the sliver of a moon on a cloudless night with stars as big as spotlights ya could read by em. sleepin on the porch overlookin the whole bay and marina and the flow of luxery boats and vehicles america’s finest parade going to and fro from the water.
and i slept again in the callville bay escape world. slept the sleep of a free man.
again free. sometimes a bit too free.
and in search of trout. free trout.
around me the scorpions, black widows, and rattlesnakes were workin the night. under a sliver moon, ch’s dog and i curled up on the wide padded reclining chairs and watched the bats work the parking lot lights. swooping in on the few desert bugs flitting about. working the desert night. as my jet lagged mind’s eye drooped and closed the desert was wide awake and workin the night shift.
and the old dog slept,
and i dreamed of punching little doggies and getting them along.
"...adventure? what kind of adventure? he asked fat marty earnestly. it was hot and the sun on lake mead has no shade to hide under. he was sweating and parboiled, sunburnt and nauseous, fried and burnt, stoned and sober, drunk and thirsty, and the sun was full tilt 122 damn degrees standing in the water chest deep he was being boiled gently by the nearly almost cooling waters. what kind of adventure? he asked again. fat marty turned, he had been gazing at his cigarette boat shining in the harsh light, idling with the low roar of a nuclear submarine, red and chrome and teak sculpted plastic go fast boat, fat marty squinted behind his dark dark shades and smiled.
why pilgrim? are ya up for it?"
we have a huge overgrown evergreen bush obscuring our view of the front yard from three side by side windows. although we have lost the overall view of our bird feeder and yard, we have a wonderful view of the goings on inside the bush all winter.
our most frequent visitor is the cardinals who love low, lying bush and trees and tangle and thickets. a good place to spend the cold winter winds blowing from the north across the lake and whipping waves that crash and splash the shoreline, a good place in the pale winter sun to sit in the afternoon and watch the snow falls sparkle and tumble and jewel the evergreen. there the cardinal couple spent the winter nights. sitting silent and small in a prairie night.
this day it is just the male cardinal who hides in the bush. the mate was found dead in the yard some time late fall. no sign of why this tragedy occurred. maybe the cats, maybe hit one of our windows and fell there. just a fatal mystery brooding cold in a quarter moon still night. Christmas eve.
leaving the male in splendid red formal dress alone in the evergreen bush awaiting spring. when the dance will begin again. his song will again call for a female to share his evergreen bush world.
always have been two there. for years and years and years. sometimes they made their nests and raised babies in the gazebo because i left the door open for days on end, and then once they started the nesting cindy would not let me shut the door until the young ones were gone, some young ones were lost to the cats. many were raised in the gazebo.
the red of a cardinal in a winter scene is where god and art combine. beauty and nature intertwined. the boldness of the red. the excitement of a rich claret exoticness in a stark black and white nebraskan winter morning. the song of spring inspired by cardinal longing. the chirping incessant staccato in a cold winter evening, under a crimson and blue sunset, a small sad chatter of loneliness.
the male cardinal keeps active, the first at the feeder in the morning, taking control, strutting until the crows come and vandalize the food supply. the cardinal heads into the evergreen to watch the pillaging and noise and shadows of black cawing wings from a safe perch. he keeps track of the squirrels drawn to the Christmas critter feast. chattering and chasing each other witless as they come down from the trees to root about the base of the feeder to find the crows scattered crumbs. juncos and brown creepers are his friend and all can sit side by side sharing bread. but a yellow shafted flicker abruptly scatters the crowd and loudly laughs a metallic manic sound of possession. but the cardinal is always the first back to the platform when things calm down, between flights of late season robins and quiet and reclusive waxwings and the sputterings of random sparrows.
always one of the last birds to roost now, flitting from low tree to bush, loudly voicing the coming of another freezing night of windless calm. his chip chip chip song his alert call to no one but himself now. no answering chip chip to calm him as he settles into his dark perch.
waiting out another valley winter solitude
in a christmas tree in formal wear with a bandit’s mask.
kenneth d. bay, excerpt: songs of the new millennium, olddog/newtricks
