Oh, Mama, Can This Really Be The End

To be stuck inside of Hampton, with the Charlottesville blues again?

Stuck Inside Of Hampton

I came to Hampton last Wednesday with the intention of staying until Saturday and then catching the Greyhound back to Charlottesville.  Yes, I knew there was a big storm coming and made contingency plans to return on Friday  if it turned too bleak.  How bleak it was to turn I soon found out.

The storm rolled in as expected and I went to the bus station a day early to beat the major impact of it.  I was too late.  Greyhound had suspended all trips based on orders from the Virginia Department of Transportation acting on orders as set out by the governor declaring a State of Emergency.

So I went back to the motel.  I figured that the buses wouldn’t be running Saturday because Saturday was supposed to be the worst day of the storm anyway.  So I called Sunday morning–one day past the time I was originally supposed to be checked out.  Nope.  No buses on Sunday either.

“Do you have ANY clue when you are going to get the buses back on the road?’” a desperate Gryphon queried the rude lady over the phone at the Richmond Greyhound Terminal.

“We are going to have a meeting Monday morning at 10:00″ she replied.

So based on THAT report I may still be stranded until Tuesday.  And here’s the thing, I made major travel plans for Tuesday the 9th.  Multiple reservations and the beginning of the trip MUST start in Charlottesville.  I might might might be able to make it back tomorrow (Monday) but it looks very doubtful which in case worse come to worse completely throws my itinerary off by at least a week.

Now the bricks lay on Grand Street
Where the neon madmen climb
They all fall there so perfectly
It all seems so well timed
And here I sit so patiently
Waiting to find out what price
You have to pay to get out of
Going through all these things twice
Oh, Mama, is this really the end
To be stuck inside of Mobile
With the Memphis blues again.

Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again.

Bob Dylan

Grooving to Coltrane

Blue Train

John Coltrane

Change of Plans

A snow storm is coming in, so my move out date has been moved up 24 hours.

This will be my last posting from this location and because of the uncertainty of my travel plans will be my last post for an indefinite period.

I will try to check in from remote locations to answer comments and perhaps give an update when I can.

I will check my email daily.

It ain’t over until it’s over.

I leave in fourteen hours.

g

3 Days

3 days–72 hours to the hour–and I am out of here.

Bags are packed.  Traveling shoes are clean and polished.

Doc is on his way back from Yorba Linda.  He may go places by himself but I never leave anywhere without my trusty Alter Ego in tow.  Figure that one out.

g

Baghdad Horror

The following picture is from the New York Times article online titled

Baghdad Blasts Shatter Sense of Security in Capital

I am pretty toughened to stuff like this, but this photograph reached right out and and grabbed me by the testicles.

It needs absolutely no words to speak the absolute horror of it.  But if you want the story, click the link.

My God, at the horror.

THIS people is the best photographic representation that I have ever seen (and I have seen a lot) of the absolute evil that is present in this world.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Horror in Baghdad

Think of this now, unless you plan to sleep tonight:  the young woman was not posing.

She was appealing for help, and to whom??

To the camera?

No.  She was appealiing to the cameraMAN, who stood there and took the picture.  He did his job which was to capture the image before doing anything else, such as giving physical aid.  Give Ayman Oghanna a bonus.  Job well done.

gryphon

2,000

The Aerie

has hit and is currently holding at

comments

(who wants to be “2,000 and 1?” )

By the way, doc appears to be on a little bit of a roll.  Keeping up with him the past couple of days has been difficult.

And We Thank You For Your Support

G

Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie

Angelina Pitt and Brad Jolie

Rumors of the breakup between Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are now confirmed as

FALSE!

I got life altering crap going on here that I couldn’t concentrate on because I was so torn up over the troubles between these love birds.

I know I am going to sleep a lot better tonight.

Jesus?  I guess Slow Moe was right when he said that there was nothing new under the sun, eh?

man oh man.

doc

who cares?

I’m annoyed that I care that I don’t care.

"Trodden Weed" Andrew Wyeth

It’s irritating.

really.

doc

Centerfield

I’m convinced that there are no such things as “beginnings.”

Everything is just a continuation of the same process.

I am fooled sometimes into thinking that I am starting a new path by peaks and anti-peaks.  When one episode reaches either an explosive or a fizzled end, then I believed that a new path began.

Not anymore.

Leon Redbone

It has been raining for two days.

My personal mountain stream is babbling merrily in the gloom and through my door yard.

I light another cigarette and type my thoughts.

“Jessica” is playing on the iTunes.  God bless Greg Allman and Steve Jobs

“Sounds of Silence” preceded.  Remember Teen Angst?  God bless naivete.

Give me Van Morrison, Muddy Waters, J.S. Bach, Ian Anderson, Ricard Wagner.

The brothers George; Harrison, Jones and Gershwin.  Antonio and Charlie–Vivaldi and Parker.

Them too. And a bunch of others.  Don’t forget Leon Redbone please.

Sing my life to me, and I will sing along.  By myself.

Solo A Capella.

Put Simon and Garfunkel on the bottom shelf along with a seriously misguided second decade.

Five is too many and not nearly enough.

Start packing.  Turn the page.  It is not the end of the story yet.  I can tell because the sentence does not end at the bottom of the page, but I am only given one page at a time.

Put me in coach.  I’m ready to play.  Today.

Look at me I can be

Centerfield.

I’ll be back.

Hopefully.

gryphon

Unsung

(this one is mine)

I will never sing for you

You and I will never dance

Never share smiles of secrets

I will not sing

*

I will never read for you

You and I will never sit side by side

Never speak of hidden meanings

I  will not read

*

I will never kiss your lips

You and I will never merge into one

Never reach joyous heights

I will not kiss

*

I will never walk with you

You and I will never tread the trails

Never discover unknown paths

I will not walk

*

I will never know you

Though I know you already

Never experience the fullness of two

I will not know

*

Except in sad dreams

You are not here

***

ces