Saturday, December 02, 2006

"Material Girl"

I got up at three am to write--not out of some dramatic Spartan work ethic like Thomas Mann whose early rises and cold showers before he wrote have made him legend to a few college kids who take survey lit courses--because I went to bed too early.

We had had a kind of hectic day moving from our desert spot that was day by day becoming not so deserted with the encroaching mammoth bread shaped steel summer homes on wheels, to our new spot in the heart of Quartzsite, in the little fenced in area of vendors with a pizza trailer and a lunch trailer at the front, both gleaming clean, the former silver, the latter red. When we discovered that it was $60.00 (a

month!) to set up and vend, with only $75.00 extra for a full hook-up, of course we couldn’t pass it up. Especially since the cheapest full hookup rv park is $275 per month.

When the woman next to us found out how cheap it was she said, “I’ll find something to sell.” She is set up with some of her bone and turquoise handmade jewelry, along with an assortment of yard sale type items that span her and her extended family’s two small rv’s.

So, up at three am I slipped into my cold jean jacket and walked over to the Pilot for some coffee and smokes.

The older woman behind the register at the Pilot was quietly singing along to "Material Girl" while I waited in line to pay for my coffee. A heavyset black man was ahead of me. He wore an amused expression.

“You okay?” he asked.

She glanced up at him. “If I was okay, I wouldn’t be here.”

Good for her. What a prick to say that. People show a little joy and the world thinks there is something wrong with them. Work Beast mentality. Maybe it ruined his idea of Madonna in his mind. I hope so. The next time he beats off to her in the shower I hope Material Granny is there for him.

Hank has been acting funny, in pain but slightly disoriented, but that could be due to pain. We searched his body last night thinking it could be his hips going but found no tender spot. It is alarming to see him in pain and be able to do nothing to help the little guy.

On to the real work. My novel is nearly half finished. It’s a good one and maybe has a chance of getting looked at since the first chapter was already published.

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