Are you stuckwayze? I'm not; I mean I am!

UFO’s, Turing Test (artificial intelligence), Gliese S281 (the first likely planet to contain places with Earth-like conditions), even TVC-15 (couple of jokes about David Bowie music-as-transmitter)---this, along with inspiration from Kirby’s Eternals and my own parallel race of mockeries of Man, all took packed places in my mind, like shirts from which I might choose. The hard AI didn’t get harder than Autocron Rover Ten-For, Japanese robot movie and American comic book crashed into the present-day based pages of Machine Man. The world has definitely changed in thirty years, and an old comic book or science fiction story can just as easily serve as a mirror to altered theories and “but if’s!” lapping like waves on the consciousness shore.



With maybe one more day where she felt better, Dixie would’ve happily chimed in on responses to these---which together form an essay yet written---with facts we know, some each other didn’t, and a healthy share of wonder, with intermittent bursts of prophet-lipped excoriations of ways and unintentionally dark comedies of society. I had a short story that, given one more time with each of them, I could’ve worked on, discussed, having all the business of hearing about their lives and routines clear, found another layer of old memories (Remember seeing Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, at the movie theater across from the hotel where you stayed and we all swam?), and started plotting! At least, I figured, I should soak in my friends and family in ways that would remind me later of them as I peered into the myths and myth stakes.

As it so happened, though, that “mockery of Man”, that Stuckwayze disposition, had played so much a part of our ways of late out here that its humor and insight was much closer at hand, with just enough time to think out loud alike and make jokes quickly while we forget about dying and illness and sorrow for a spell. We made
Stuckwayze faces from our own, like Man made in God’s Image, laughing already and so inspired to make more fun, and sure enough, everyone we left back there in Georgia still has a Stuckwayze face on hand they can show you!
So now, when I finish my “Stuckwayze Forev-uhghh!?!” tale, it will be so much better, its actions lit as the ways of my friends, parading around the Crib in their Stuckwayze Vases, uhghh.


Our adventures making t-shirts and the nature of taking creations to comics conventions poured from my lips as Charlotte kicked the boredom creeps with my company. I made eye contact but also worked through about thirty five yoga poses over the dog and cat loved carpet over the next hour or so, joyous, frankly, to have a listener, and one thing you can count on, you know when Charlotte is listening. I heard about life with Punk and Marley and Ginger and Sebastian, dogs and cats in harmony and relative balance: that’s another thousand words I could probably pull up on its own, because pets are a big part of your home life, and these days your home life’s quality is inescapable, right?


We had a fun Peace bracelet each; I drew Dixie and Charlie, a rough sketch, from a promise tucked away for just this moment, on pad and paper and pencil supplied by Dixie. Man, anything they had we needed or might even want, it was ours for the asking, if even that! You can’t abuse such hospitality and you’d do well to reward it, so taking down a wallet-sized portrait I drew my two friends before we all took off to return improperly crushed pills to the vet, take a look at the sad remains of Jeffery and Bobby’s old place so close by, and finally to devour Taco Bell and speak freely of things I just knew some fellow patrons wondered about!



Finally, the Peek’s Park location had become, by virtue of being closest to our sure attendees, the most likely place for the picnic Eric had dubbed Cecilpalooza. Taking a look around, we found it cozy and enjoyed hearing how they brought David, Austin and Ci Ci out to have fun and hazard in the water spout (built to replace the less-tenable public pool) centered in the shallow ampitheater half-circling it.


Half a circle, half a moon: I look at both and see a point where you need context to know does it wax or wane, but in its balance it’s a fine place to suggest a new beginning, such as our performer sides needed after two intense seasons filled with drawings, even stories, but mostly home quiet, while music we make is encouraged to be loud and played in places much larger than the Apartment of Ideas. We talked of ideas of children, children in our lives, children we’ve never had, and walked off our modest fast food lunches under trees and breeze.


A text: Peek’s Park, checking it out. Coming to your house next, Bean!

Next:First welcome to Gypsy Cave

(my conservative estimates, a hundred words per topic, served their purpose. Unbridled creation of kind memories in word came as 843 more words before I'm half out of events! There's a lot of set-up of the week as a whole as well as by the hour, and this is but a rough draft of what could be done)

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