July 30, 2013
A Guy Slice of Life, ME Newsletter, Vol. 6, Issue 31
There’s nothing more honest than a Guy Clark slice of life. Nothing more filling, either.
It’s like not really knowing what you’re hungry for, and wandering into a tiny non-descript diner to find you’ve discovered where the locals go for the best Sunday morning stuff. You were only looking for a little something. While you’re wide-eyed at the prospect of grazing the million-dollar style “why-isn’t this-more-expensive?” lay-out of emotion , the nodding knowers catch your eye. They recognize that you recognize that each successive offering is more amazing and intricate than the next.
Everyone before you lingers intently at each station. Beef pie, potato pie,home grown tomato pie, salt in the wound pie, chess pie with a smidge of bourbon; each one finds a niche in the clever little compartment spaces of your heart’s desire. Sure you’ve got enough, but there’s more to offer.
Afraid of missing out, you choose last piece of what looks like the sweetest peach pie ever – the cross section lets you see what it’s made of. A crisp foundation flakes, apart letting little pieces fly. You know you’ll get back to them later, after you’ve been through the meat of the matter, sweet words with tart undertones under a crumbled crust of life lumps.
From the first melodious instant analytic bite to the last smooth swallow each is the intense best because it is coming closer to the end. Finished - with a throat coat that could very well end up spilling from your eyes if you’re not very careful. Equal care balances your wobbly thinly coppered fork on plate’s edge with an audible sigh that signals it’s over. Hands in your pockets feel the fullness, yet your eyes wander back to the buffet. For half a second you think about going back, again, and against all good internal advice, you do. Returning with a sheepish slide onto the cracked counter stool, the dance starts over, waltzing familiar. Between bites, the mirror throws back smiling eyes.
Yeah, never mind the faded counter, chipped plate, crooked utensils, kitschy coffee cup.
This is where it’s at. Welcome yourself to the club. Repeat as often as possible.
Posted by jaselin at July 30, 2013 06:50 PM