they talked of the acdc concert last week. they said they sounded better than ever. i just listened. they wouldn't have known who charles mcpherson is, nor would they care much about my discovery of "wayning moments." i honestly had never even heard of acdc, a feat for which even tilberg stood in awe over. kind of like when my dad auditioned for a group, and they asked him if he knew anything by the who. "the what?" he replied.

my humor and knowledge of sports gets me by. i think. i don't know if it really does, nor do i much care. it's just that we are forced to be around stiffs for much of our waking hours. they aren't that bad, i suppose. just ignorant and boring and shallow with poor tastes in music. other than that, they are a gas.

the guy on my gig mentioned miles. just what if he had said booker little, or louis smith? you know, just to shake things up. it doesn't happen that way, i guess. repetition rules, and mediocrity maintains its place in power. the gig gradually gets to us. man continues his search for meaning in a godless universe. he is alone in the cosmos, surrounded by over 6 billion others, each alone in his crowded corner. each day, its get up, and try again.

what would happen if we didn't set the alarm? if we just kept sleeping and walking and breathing and listening?

we would be homeless, that's what would happen.