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You know, you’ve got to help me out. Traveling to Arizona, when the California side of the Colorado River is an arctic 99 degrees, and everything to the east is despair and torment and 115 degrees, requires some mental preparation. It was only recently that Harrison admitted that he was singing “I’m not a soda.” Marisol, on [...] I fixed the ringer of my 1972-vintage Stromberg-Carlson rotary phone by employing something called a flathead screwdriver that I was loaned by a local museum of anthropology. We were watching Go Go’s videos when the quake struck. It was a 7.2 temblor originating 250 miles south in the exotic country of Mexico. I shot this video in the Irish enclave of Dorchester, MA on St. Stephen’s Day, as a seisun band tuned up with a ditty by Celtic icon John Denver. The children and I spent long hours rehearsing this deft script penned in the wake of the Easter Uprising by James Joyce: HARRISON God showed His face to my windshield, and by extension, me, today, indicating that He has great plans for us both. I have not received a parking ticket in the City of Los Angeles since January 12, 2009. It was Chinatown. I didn’t contest it. “Forget it, Marty,” I said, echoing Boz Scaggs. “It’s Chi-town.” Today, a month and 30 days after my fortieth birthday, I realize that, when I go, it is getting more unlikely that people will say, “He was too young.” Instead, they will say, “I guess it was about goddamn [...] Marty Barrett speaks truth to the Storm of the [...] “She would watch while her dogs ate our [...] |
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Copyright © 2010 Marty Barrett: Refenestration Consultant, Aerialist, Raconteur, Tycoon - All Rights Reserved |
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