...
We can stop worrying about the kid with the killer voice.
...
And one solid giggle to beat back the gloom.
...
Joe was telling me he was afraid to check out the gold and jeweled book with the world's greatest pot from the library, that it had to be a trick, and I'm asking him, you mean you get the pot of all time when you borrow this book from the library? Yes. That's exactly what he's saying.
I'm, like, dopy, c'mon, I'll get it and we can smoke it together. He's avid for this plan. We go get it. What a beautiful, precious book, and he's pulling pot incense sticks from its pages and we start smoking them like joints, and then for some reason I have to stick them back into the book and pretend it is a broom, sweeping the floor with the precious volume suddenly morphing into a red plastic broomlike item.
Then we're back to the book on our corner library bench, still pristine, to resume our explorations. The pot has turned into a kind of creamy taffy that slides into my mouth and down my throat like something they eat on Antarea.
I was enjoying the pot with Joe, but it was the book I was interested in. I remember when I was teaching him to ride, he was also interested in my books on Zen... a particular one I talked about a lot... and, in the ancients' parlance, that would be made of gold and precious jewels and the "pot" in it would indeed be off world.
always and any time....
