Now as I Was Young and Easy

Bernard Buffet

And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
- Dylan Thomas

Sometime around 530 in the morning my ankle slipped out from under the covers and fell over the side of my mattress and once the cool air touched my skin I knew that fall had arrived, signaling the end of another summer of discontent, of dancing on stages, of warm nights and borrowed cigarettes, of drunken bathing, panties, and wet bars. It was like that, so sudden, but evidence that a certain death had arrived was everywhere since the earth has tilted us away from the sun so it can no longer support the cyclical nature of the mating season. I left work and crossed that park behind my office, the one that everyone uses for their oversized dogs to take a shit in after they get home from work. Like Cornflakes strewn about the ground, the brown and dried out leaves disintegrated under my feet as I crossed the field that separated me from the basement bar that I had spent many an evening in this summer, the one without windows.

I was on my way to see LeRoy, he had been working on his movie about Debord and I knew something was amiss when he was leaning up against a tree waiting for me, rather than hoisting a celebratory pitcher of some concoction downstairs with a smile on his face like he normally would be upon my arrival. He accused me of many things, all of which I suspect are true. My penchant for the dramatic is consuming me and I seem intent on dragging everyone and everything into my little vortex of experience at any cost. He talked to me openly, as if we were lovers, and I welcomed that freedom, for he is dear to me as such. He wouldn't buy me beer like he usually did, instead he took me to his his apartment that has an incredible view of the city out his window and had me replicate exactly how he watches TV in his living room, insisting that I prop my head on a pillow, put my feet up on a chair with my heels resting at the edge of the seat in a very particular but comfortable fashion. He handed me a chilled Samuel Adams, got out a plaid blanket, tucked it under my chin, and then went to do the dishes, leaving me to watch Jake Lamotta destroy himself in the Scorcese classic, Raging Bull.

Before long we were on the street standing outside the gallery that was hosting Dragica's opening. I drank and incredible amount of cheap red wine, and LeRoy shifted uncomfortably side to side for as long as he could before saying good bye, which left me free to walk up and down the street with a plastic cocktail glass to make pit stops at the galleries that were in the area for constant refills since I happened to know everyone that was pouring. I hugged Dragica goodbye, congratulated her, and before I could gain any control over the words that my lips were sending out into the world, I told her that I loved her. Walking away I giggled all the way to the train station, it had been such a long time since I had said those words to anyone. I put my headphones on that trailed from the iPod in my back pocket, it had been playing all night long and happened to be in the middle of The Cars, Lets go, with the chorus screaming, "I love the night life baby," as the train pulled into the station to take me home.

The Cars - Let's Go