Ask iAN

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ASK iAN * THE SPECTER HITS THE AMERICAN ROAD AT NIGHT

                     Babe Shadow has his black binder book of secrets.  Words in black ink i don't wanna see or know.  Pete and the black curls that hide his civil war black gold eye pearls is the first to turn in...Tour bed bunks like coffins with long black drapes...Leah enlightens me and says when i get in to my rolling grave make sure i point my boots towards the force of the road, towards the front of the caravan, so in case we smash into oblivion i at least go boots first instead of skull.  Robert plays a few more female ghost oldies and disappears into his bed and all is black sleep and i am alone riding the rails with my bad thoughts, my frightened future thoughts and my thoughts of long gone days, long gone friends, long gone loves, long gone homes...so i ask the driver if i can take the passenger seat and watch the timeless night roll on with him and he says yes. We talk for hours and hours and i learn more from him than most teachers taught me in 3 years.  We talk about Waylon Jennings...we talk about relationships, we talk about eating right, we talk about people who fancy they are real drivers when in fact they aren't...Tigers don't breathe underwater and sharks don't swim in the trees...but lots of people think they do and they mimic those wrong ideas. After 4 hours i bid the driver a fond adieu and not wanting to wake my sleepy hollow 3 i point my boots towards the coming day while diving face first onto the love seat. We roll into the famous Venue so early that not even the open 24 hours a day store has opened... i rise Up and take some black tape and put it over the whole in my black jeans to cover up the rip in my crotch area...to hide my pregnancy tools...the tape just keeps falling off and being without undergarments by the the next morning, my tools are as bald as banana plums. I Exit the bus and lock the door *  In the early sunlight of the day i cannot see the curly Q bridge nor the sign that says all pedestrians must use this in order to cross the street.  i walk right below it and pass the sign and standing there at the corner i see a store that is open for where to buy things i must need and more traffic than you can wave a limp dick at.  I am wondering why there is no cross walk light for pedestrians and feel that the city has done a mighty poor job on their urban design...so with the black tape falling from my nuts i dodge out at the first sign of a break in traffic and nearly get my ass sworn into the grave by Lincoln Continental whose license plate reads "BEEFCAKE" and i jump back like James Brown on a pogo stick made outta James Bond car seat cocaine injectors...my heart is racing like a beast that has just been clawed in the ass a deep gouge...so like a wizard...i back up like i am going to jump a length of 10 cars on a motorcycle daredevil and i shoot out again...and again cars out of nowhere come crashin' down from the East and from the West in herds, in weekend warrior abundance, a slew of lone wolves in packs and in droves...now i played football in High School in my Sophomore year and i sucked...but in this kinda o' traffic, i was a goddamned Heisman trophy Pro Football fullback indian runner motherfucker!  I doubled back, fake twisted, darted left, faked right, burped, nearly shit myself, did a disco twist, high jumped a small insect in mid-air, dodge two redneck trucks, one limo, and too many invisible hearses to count and made it across the street only to be applauded by a round of homeless people...and as i bowed...i belched, nearly fainted, shook it off, got my spirit in check and hit the store with my nerves like electric razorblades and my asshole tighter than a miser's coin purse, fuck me. On the way back to the bus with all my purchases i was dreading the chicken in traffic routine when i saw the overhead sign...relieved...i walked up and over the traffic on this bridge in old man slow motion...feeling like a total fucking dipshit and sub genius...but at least it's good to know i still got the dance moves. Back at the bus the crew were arriving...and each and everyone of these cats are so sweet and funny you fall in love instantly with them...even when they tell you to get fucked as they flip U Off...well at least with me...it still makes me blush like a girl wet from beat bronze jazz back in the ocean motor wet night alley days of old...shux, fuckers... These boys bust rib, ass, arm, foot and got hustle...i wanted to help but since i ain't no good with reading pedestrian signs and what not i felt it might be more helpful if i just stayed outta their fucking way...and i was right cause they had their rockand roll down to a science maximus...flawless, sweet, patient and efficient.  Whatever these cats do makes multi taskers look like those old people that walk around malls to stay in shape...Heavy fuckun' dudes who really make it happen and everyone that worked at the FILLMORE were the same...top notch, on their game, kind, professional, full of humor, and beautiful...talk about your COME TOGETHER....WOW*  i was floored. Later on i laughed with Leah in the shadows where the posters loomed...Rob looked fuzzy electric on stage getting a sound check and Pete...well Pete shaved real cool with an American spirit tucked between his cool lips...fucking suave.  Then he taught me the majik of his boots...the secret i have been pulling my teeth out to know...and we admitted that in our past lives...we were cobblers...the lonely kind that would make a puppet and pray for him to become a boy...and then in heaven mistake him for Jesus. There was also Pete's rugged old jacket...lying on a furnace waiting to catch on fire to make it look even cooler...don't know what it is about that jacket...but just standing next to it as it's slung over something gives me more warmth than most people give me....some kind of essence or hint of home and what it once never was or could have been or what it should have been... and then came the light.  The kids, the fans, the people, the old friends, the new friends, the new enemies, the old ones too and the new fans and the families...the smiles, the hugs, the sorrows, the mishaps, the misunderstandings, the missed meetings....everything in a warm hell on earth blue blossom bird red...and there was nothing and everything all at once, and stories told about twins being born and nights of long ago...and all the songs on Specter making me cry inside and out as the deli meats sat in silence under all the songs that tear my heart to the bone and then the night turned into other night and into other night red red red and in an old Hotel i ate sweet Luck, i ate Beauty and the words of sister regret As the black bus, the Specter bus rolled on without me to let the next day begin shaking hands with Steve Randal You know him as Tom Cruise i think of him as Steve Randal from the Outsiders of Oklahoma Not a greaser by choice, but because we never really had a choice* Roll On A Moveable Feast Won't You Come and be Seated? Bless Yer Hearts Thank You Mars I'm Sorry Ophelia and Thank You All who came so far to bring and share the Light

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