Twice Born A Vagabond
A Novel [Copr. 2008]
By D. DeWitt Thomas
Chapter Thirty-five


The Summer of Love brought together the last of the baby boomer breed and silouetted them on the history screen in vague shadows of undefined purpose. The bleeding ghosts whose sad stories were told then forgotten and retold so that the story never got to the real truth. The times were hopelessly insensitive to adequately provide for self esteem or any sense of identity for such an unhappy vagabond as myself who was more dead to society than my straight friends and jerkoff aquaintances.
Intelligent rational behavior is only relevant to the specific task, however; awareness and enlightenment provide peace of mind in a context which enables the implementation of intellegence. Enlightened purpose and meaning combined with forethought bring positive results throughout life until the circle ends in death. Ah death... the total wreck of all the bits and pieces which are scattered for eternity into infinity. Why pursue it?
"Stop, listen to this," said angel eyed Tommy, "I've got some new lyrics. 'Drawn from the realm of unchanging and its union nourishes on , in the right re-arranging, 'til the last confusion is gone. Waterbrothers trust in the ultimust of the always singing song, they pass along.' What do you think?" "Great," I said, "where is Stacy? Let's play it. Go find Galindo and let's get this down on tape." Tommy picked up his old ceramic jug and we walked toward the rock hunting house in the back. Roky was there practising his guitar. I slipped behind my drums and we began to play. I have never heard a white kid with a style so much like James Brown's rhythm and blues. We warmed up with a couple of old tunes like 'You're Gonna Miss Me'. Roky is the same way with melodies as Tommy is with lyrics. Roky comes up with the melody line and meter while Tommy chisels out the words.

table of contents

main page