So Long -- Raylettes

June 10, 2004, but thinking back to Henrietta, Texas in 1960: My basement hippy pad had three walls painted a cool blue, and the fourth a burnt orange color. I'd painted them myself.

Then, Donny Burkman and I had made paintings of abstract art by the simple expedient of floating oil-based paints atop the water in the bathtub, and dragging large cardboard through the oils. Donny and I were considerably happier with this art than was my mother, whose bathtub we'd used.

The first appeal of my basement hippy pad was that it was not in the house, so teen angst and sensibility were hidden, as is proper. Gone to ground, you might say.

The second appeal was that I could listen to records without comments or volume requests, as is cool, man.

Ray Charles and the Raylettes were a favorite. Boy, didn't they shake that thing?

Ray today, gone tomorrow.

Ray Charles died today. Damn! First Miles, now Ray.

What'd I say?

So Long -- Ray-Gun

June 5, 2004: Today Ronald Reagan died at age 93. Although my friend Donny Burkman met Mr. Reagan once upon a time, I never did, although I shot him the bird one evening, which could have got me shot by secret service guys, but it didn't.

I recall little of Reagan's time. I recall only a sunday comic where an aged hippy referred to him as "Ray Gun," and at the time of Mr. Reagan's presidency, it was cool to act contemptuous of the president's foreign policy.

As if us young folks with no experience in anything somehow knew more about how to run a country. Now, older, I realize that I don't even know how to act in major motion pictures.

So long, Mr. Reagan. I apologise for my poor behaviour.

But I was much younger then, and knew everything.

Now I am older and wiser, and know far less.