I completed the morning walk, again in lousy weather. As usual, I brought my Muse along, and was waiting for her to deliver the goods. However, today, she must have felt musical because, instead of inspiring me with something to write about, she sang Merle Haggard and Johnny Cash songs in my ear for one hour. I believe she sang â€œSunday Morning Coming Downâ€ at least a half-dozen times. Just when I though she was finished singing and was ready to provide me with a bit of literary inspiration, she belted out a couple verses of â€œIâ€™ve Always Been Crazyâ€ by Waylon Jennings.
So, there you have it – Jimbo on a Sunday morning sidewalk strutting my shit in shitty weather and dealing with a singing Muse. I donâ€™t have much else to say right about now. Please address all complaints to the Singing Muse.
As a result, rather than sitting here staring at the screen, I plan on spending a bit if time sitting in a comfortable chair and reading a book, with pages and all, before I head over to the Post to commiserate with the Usual Suspects. Once there, I will wash down a few Yuengling Porters, have a bit of chow and puff on a CAO Gold Robusto.
I shall return to the House by the Parkway in time to watch Deadwood and, with any luck, I wonâ€™t fall asleep in Mr. Recliner.
Sounds like a plan to me.