2000 years ago



mesagrill01.jpg picture by pemerytx


after sharing a bottle of champagne with the others, i went downstairs to my room feeling the need to hear a particular song.  although i wasn’t thinking of you at the time, it was the same song i had blaring out the boses on the way home after our blue mesa kiss-fest:  you with your super-cool black leather jacket and long, long, blonde hair to die for, and my blonde hair, only just hacked off.  in the champagne cloud downstairs, i lost track of the number of times i replayed that particular song, but the cloud eventually led me to your memory


the night of blue mesa.  it was foggy that night, driving to my place, you following.  i flicked the fog lights switch on the cadi.  it with its super-cool deep gloss black paint and sleek sts style and power that kills, and me feeling undeserving to own such a beautiful beast.  i was high on the i-190 overpass to jupiter with track eight of kenny wayne’s trouble is  cranked up and replaying over and over until i lost track of the number of times.


at my apartment, eventually i got to the ritual of applying the miracle nighttime stuff to my eyes which required a quick, patting motion with one finger.  you were leaned against the wall in the hall outside the bathroom watching me pat, pat, and you asked me if i had a nervous condition.  we laughed.  it had been awhile since round one, or two, since what i call first laying eyes on one another and what you call dating.  of all the details of us, i can never remember the number of rounds.  that or your birthday.


anyway, i remember trying to do my lockdown thing on you the day after blue mesa, and you would have none of it.  but you stayed with me that day as long as you could before your let-me-out scream would crescendo to insufferable.  and after you’d left, i sat alone in the aftershock, replaying an old tape in my head until i lost track of the number of times.  and thus began the many lessons i would learn about love, truth, me.  courtesy of you.





Blue mesa grill photo from http://www.bestofvegas.com/Restaurants/Mesa_Grill/images/mesa-grill-restaurant-las-vegas-exterior.jpg.

11 responses to “2000 years ago

  1. Happy New Year, Duchess of Muchness: I know that you are a supreme fictionista, but I like maintaining the fiction that this lovely Blue on Black (acoustic version on the box as I write this) aria is close to the bone, hell, not close to the bone, it IS the bone of the Duchess. Lots to love here, and I love that “overpass to Jupiter,” nice nod to the that Sag-y Devil girl and anything else it nods or doesn’t nod to. Much as CW and Joni’s roses, I can see how one could get lost in the loopings infinito of KWS. Was it Veuve Clicquot, Cuervo Gold, or Shiner Bock that uncorked this beauty? Maybe Abita’s Blackened Voodoo. Prospero ano, amiga.

  2. HNY back atcha, Paschal! This here blog got a flat tire, was rode too hard on the road to Christmas. Had to call triple A and ever’thin’ but I think we back in bidness. I sure did miss your face, missed feeling your intuition at work. We all want to be known and felt to be understood. And you do a good job on me. In addition to this, it was that, that Sauvignon Blanc stuff topped off with Ballatore Gran Spumonte in the fridge from last year that barfed the guts of this out. There may have been a Bud mixed in there somewhere. I can’t remember. Anyway, 2000 years got finished off the next day when I had what I thought were my wits about me, but what is wits anyway? ; )


    It’s a secret language, Ms. Mood. Hey, Happy New Year, glad you stopped by and all that! Now that I have my tire plugged, I can get around to visit y’all.

  3. A secret language? And me without my decoder ring?
    Sure didn’t feel like I needed one with this beautifully resonant story, riding right along with you on that overpass to jupiter. Glad to hear your tire’s fixed, hoping for clear roads ahead. Happy New Year!

  4. Naw, anno, I was just talkin’. Anyway, I see you don’t need one : ) And it’s nice to see you again, too. HNY!


    Ho, Bass! This ain’t ‘47 on the road with Kerouac, ya know! You gonna hafta take the bus if you want a ride!

  5. songs played on loop, thoughts vortexing in the head.

    happy new year to you, missA. may you continue churning out the most fascinating pieces of fiction

  6. Happy New Year Miss A. You do your lock down thing so well, he didn’t know what he was running from. You brought me back to earlier days of wanting and wild ways. It felt a little like the music of Dire Straights and reminded me of driving my own version of your beautiful beast(a red Camero). Lessons learned the hard way at the Blue Mesa…

  7. Thanks, present! Likewise.
    A red Camaro, eh? Nice! I loved the factory rumble of a Camaro so much I put glass packs on my quiet-idling ’88 T-bird! LOL! Yeah, young and clueless, working hard in all kinds of ways to figure life out…
    Thanks for stopping by to check 2000 years out, btw. It’s good to see you : )

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