gradual companion piece

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  Marion’s Typewriter
  Memphis, TN 

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  The Lorraine Motel

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  Dang Dude! Day Four

  I see John awake and start cooking eggs and brats. Fuel for the day ahead I later find out. He comes out of his room and proclaims “I feel amazing” referring to a prior conversation regarding the perils of whiskey. I explain to him that it’s not whiskey his body hates, but the Coca-Cola sugar crash. He’s done with beer and whiskey it is from here on out. 

  We eat breakfast, grab some blues and travel to the canyon that we had merely stood atop of the day before. The Piedra canyon. For the first portion of the hike, it’s all families. Grandma, grandpa, the whole bit. We take every detour we possibly can to gather views and differentiate our experience from theirs. I get stuck on a rock in the middle of the river and eventually work up the courage to jump the 6-8 feet down, still reminding myself that I am nursing an ankle that was mangled in a drunken bike accident in Europe last year. We travel on through the rocks and trees, making our way to a series of beautiful meadows. We come to a trail split and get real Robert Frost on it, taking the more primitive looking one. About 1,000 feet in, we decide that bears are much cooler from the comfort of a car. This is bear country. We turn back.

  Back on the trail, we see a mangled bird and feathers everywhere. I ask John what would be responsible for such a thing. “Mountain Lion or Bobcat” he says. I stand corrected. This is predator country. We traverse through a series of beautiful meadows with wildflowers, crossing bridges and ignoring keep out signs that go to private property. We eventually head back to the car. We have travelled about 6 miles on foot and are famished.

  We get back to the house and cook up more bratwursts and asparagus. We ruin the ceramic stove by allowing the beer on the stove to run over. We settle into the couches upstairs and watch the NBA Finals, game 2. John, being from Dallas, is a Mavericks. He vocally teeter totters between delight and disgust. 

  We need cigs, lemonade, whiskey and a “4th meal”, so we head to the store at halftime. We settle on chips and queso. As we get back to the house, I proceed to make the queso, with some Velveeta, shredded cheese, Ro-tel and an serrano chile. I turns out good enough to the point where John is claiming he is going to “house it, bro”.  

  The Mavs are down by 15 or so with 6 minutes left in the game. It’s hopeless and I let him know. He says we should wait and watch.The Mavs stun the Heat with an amazing comeback. Dirk Nowitzki to the left in the clutch. This will set the tone of things to come. We go to our respective quarters happy and full. 

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