Thursday, 28th August 2014.
and inside Chet Baker’s singing some September Song. it’s all Little Girl Blue and Amsterdam is not somewhere to be, and Chet is still holding on to his horn and those raindrops that never fell. it’s just a trumpet and that sound and a Jazz James Dean and his voice and a horn and that Jazz James Dean
it’s just cheap, Greek wine. there’s no reason to drink it except it’s free.
Wednesday, 10th July 2013.
Thursday, 20th June 2013.
Friday, 3rd May 2013.
listening to Ray Charles late at night.
he used to do manual labour, but that’s all in the past now.
Saturday, 1st December 2012.
it’s a Springsteen chestnut, and almost like a dream, but Christmas is closing in.
Friday, 23rd November 2012.
Saturday, 10th December 1011.
J’s dad drove a truck, just like my dad. he made moonshine, played old Creedence-songs on the guitar when he was drunk and was a duck hunter too, and he was married to a woman from Lillehammer who looked like Dolly Parton.
december saturday. I go downtown to talk to one of the bartenders who had a bad day yesterday and make sure everything’s all right. then I visit an old friend from school , and give him a bottle of whiskey. the children are high on sugar. we talk about them being born in Bergen and how they don’t talk like us.