Bobby D & me

So me’n Bob are sittin’ aroun’, chowin’ down, and passing a big fat joint back & forth like we always done.  Heck -- me & Bobby? -- we go way-y back.

He took a long drag and held it in;  which gave me a chance to get a word in edgeways.

“Say, Zimm,” I said -- I like to call him “Zimm”, just a little thing we have between us, “you see where that New Yorker writer went and just plumb made up some of your quotes?  Or maybe some were real only he like tweaked a preposition?"

A little intake of breath, and then a long exhale.  Mumbles:  “Messed-up, man.”

For a while we were silent, just taking in the sunset, and the moan of a distant train.

“Least he had the decency to commit hara-kiri with his own quill pen, right there in the office of the editor.”
Bob nodded.  “Said it, man.”

A long pause  while we contemplated unspoken things.

“Y’know,” I confided.  “I been real, real protective of your reputation, ever since I wrote Blowin’ in the Wind and you had your hit with it.”

He nodded thoughtfully.  “You written me some righteous songs, man.”

“And you remember that time when you were too stoned to sing, and I filled in for you on your album doing Rainy Day Women?”

A hint of a grin.  “Good times, man.”

~

~ Celebrity Endorsement ~

“To distract my mind from current troubles,

I like to dig into a gritty mystery,

starring those tough-talking, two-fisted Private Eyes,

the lovable Murphy Brothers.”

I Don't Do Divorce Cases

Murphy on the Mount.

(My name is Woody Guthrie, and I approved this message.)

~

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