...being the observations and navigational extracts
from the ongoing expeditions of San Francisco Piano Pop trio
True Margrit

Thursday, November 16, 2006

whether the weather or not

A chilly, but less than arctic wind blows across this town. Bartenders are announcing last call and bands are packing up their gear after the glory and rock. It's a clear November night tonight and as the earth turns on its axis more nights will fly over the lawns and the parks and the alleys and the boulevards. All manner of fowls will be roasted and eaten with compliments offered to chefs. The wealthy will be sequestered safe-ish in seismically retrofitted dwellings and the homeless will shiver in doorways. Unless some quirk or byproduct of global climate change offers up humid tropical monsoons, or polar icepack, the customary seasonal weather will slide in from the Pacific. Rain will fall insistently under streetlamps. Shoppers will complain about the mysterious loss of umbrellas while venturing out to the malls gamely in the yearly rite of frenzied purchasing and gifting. Oh, how presents will be given and received. & More songs. More meals. More weather. The new year will be toasted fearfully, optimistically, or cynically depending on the company and the exellence of the liquor and / or other substance being ingested. The offhand comments that bring unnoticed tears will be uttered. Moments of truth will be applauded. A line of ants marching two by two seeking easy sustenance will adorn the kitchens of annoyed tenants. The cineplex will be frequented. Any November night of clarity would broadcast this news to the wary or wakeful whose shoulders are kinked with the weight of all mortals.

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