Gravity Recovery And Climate Experiment
My neighbor's gone. His handyman is gone. The girlfriend is long gone.
There was some banging on my back porch door Friday night. It was Harry Dean Stanton and his handyman getting their drink on. They had it in their heads it was me who called the cops on them and I guess they wanted to air their thoughts on the matter. I told them they'd sure given me reason to call the police, that they were pretty lousy neighbors, but I didn't do it. That calmed them down some. Eventually L & I shared a drink with them. HDS told me about what happened to the girlfriend, but I don't believe him.
As it happens, that was to've been their last night at the Nunnery. Saturday afternoon they knocked drunkenly on my front door and told me they'd been turned out. They'd been instructed to take whatall they could carry and vacate within a half-hour or else face the police again.
They had one bag between them, packed with ridiculous things, useless things, I'm not even going to tell you what. Most of their belongings are still there I guess, out in back of the Nunnery, forsaken because they're not supposed to return.
Curtis, the executor of Harry Dean Stanton's father's estate, arrived and gave HDS $240.00 and sent the two of them, him and his handyman, off down the street, on foot, in the rain. The word 'pathetic' fits well enough. They didn't know where they were going to spend the night. They kept asking me if I knew of a place, a motel or something, somewhere they could stay. HDS was crying some.
I guess it was an afternoon for walking in the rain, because ten minutes later I met up with Mark down to Fellini's. Later we returned to the Nunnery for music, conversation, and some Don Julio.
Backtracking, Friday afterwork began at Sidebar where I was asked by EM to join her, B, and B's father. The four of us were joined by JB, Rashid, Jason, Joe from Slice, and Ryan who works at the capitol. Good times. L showed up a bit later and she, Rashid and I talked before we headed home. A difficult night.
