Would that really qualify for three-part harmony?
Part the first:
I was walking along, just ambling through a parking lot, and a blue, or silver, or maybe it was red, I don’t know, car, or maybe it was a truck, or perhaps it was an SUV, I don’t know, anyway, the vehicle pulls to a stop in my path. Driver waves at me. Long hair, dyed black, I think, big sunglasses, window rolls down, “Hey!”
I walked behind the car because there was another vehicle turning in, pulled my shirt back on, and the other window rolls down, “Oh. I thought you were someone else.”
“Yeah,” I thought, “that guitar player.”
Part the second:
The local delivery driver was just pulling into the Shady Acres lot as I was leaving, on that aforementioned sojourn on my quest for pork ribs. I saw him yesterday, East Austin. In the parking lot as I was leaving, and finally, a little later, downtown. He was stopped at a light, and I stepped up to the open door, “Hey, you’re following me.”
He’s Sagittarius, too, and he quipped back, “What? You got all day to just wander around on foot?”
As a matter of fact, yes, it’s where I find balance in an unbalanced world. Wouldn’t be a problem if everyone just did what I old them to do. The first time. Or maybe not.
Part the third:
I’m not entirely sure, but I’m pretty sure I almost got run over by the Scorpio, previously mentioned in a horoscope.
What’s worse? Remember that Mercury is backwards and confusing thought? I couldn’t find the horoscope to link to it. At least, I thought I wrote about a Scorpio….
And in the news?
I had a slight, almost problematic, persistent mental reminder that “something” was happening. It’s as if there was a red-alert, or maybe, just like a mental “mail alert,” bouncing in a corner of my mind.
It started Sunday, as if there was something I was supposed to do, only I forgot. Really astrologically observant people would realize it was the same time Mercury moved into full apparent retrograde motion. However, that wasn’t the source.
Shootings, court rulings, and then? A big explosion.
I read several news stories about the refinery explosion, down close to Houston. No verified fatalities, a few possible fatalities, and the last time I checked the story, there were 14 dead, names had not been released yet.
Brandon Jenkins, on his album, Unmended, has a perfect (sad) tune that catches the way this works, “Refinery Blues.”
“My backyard is a refinery/Churning out black smoke where I can’t breath…”
From one of the earlier news reports, the datum kicked out was that, that particular refinery? It pumps out three percent of the fuel used in vehicles in the US.
I toyed with the math on that, but what I came up with? Going from gallons to liters? And back? I might have this wrong, but out of every ten gallons? More that a quart of the fuel used is from there.
And that’s just one location on the Oil Coast.
To make this more personal, though, that cousin? A guy who showed up a few weeks ago after many years’ silence? He’s “in the oil biz,” as we say. What happens if he’d been on the site for something? (He works for an unrelated company, so this is hypothetical.)
Now, I’m not a journalist, nor, for that matter, do I play one on TV. So there’s a not a lot of fact checking going on here. I’m just spitting out numbers and items that lodged in my brian. The same brain that kept sending me a subconscious alert that there was something that needed attention.