“It’s like a Fellini Movie….”
The exact quote, attributed to Bubba Sean, ran something like this, “It’s like a Fellini movie, if Fellini and Kinky Friedman were smoking pot together.”
The quote came close to the end of the evening, as a group of us were sitting by the edge of the river, me and Bubba, smoking big cigars, swigging on bottles of water, watching the river, and entertaining ourselves.
Just a quiet summer night, at the edge of the river. Gemini, Virgo, Leo, my Sagittarius self. The stories were tall, and unbeknownst to some folks, actually true.
“I live like a monk,” I did protest. Couldn’t see in the evening’s darkened state, but from the comments, my protestation didn’t go over very well, probably much rolling of the eyes.
“Kramer, you’re claiming a Tibetan monk, but I think you’re not quite there, more like on of those clubs in Thailand. – right part of the world, but your geography is a little off.”
See? No one understands me.
Earlier, I’d been outside Zen (fast Japanese food) slurping a Jo’s Latte, gradually spooning a small dish of Amy’s ice ream into the coffee. The afternoon, for a little while, looked like it was going to cool off. I was testing some new material, out the current working draft of a manuscript on a different Gemini.
The rain, what little there was as a “cold” front swept through, and momentarily dropped the temperature to a cool 77 degrees. Cool enough to require donning a shirt.
In fact, some nice guy in a truck waved me in front of him while I was standing outside, in the rain, waiting to make a deposit at the teller machine.
When I was wandering back from an early swim in the creek, I was briefly enthralled by the clarity of the creeks water, the contours of the bottom were clearly visible. The fish? They still mock me.
I’m not sure how to reconcile this image with a Fellini movie, but it could be me.
