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I told Dewey, Rico, Ogg, and Fingers that I'd meet up with them later, then began my normal ritual of
wandering. Just me and my
backpack:
Walkman, a notebook and pen, Jennifer Bartlett's novel (a marked contrast from the
Hank Williams bio the rest of the band was reading), the
NME. Tapes:
Brötzmann,
Elvis'
Punch the Clock and
Imperial Bedroom, a homebrew
Stax Records compilation,
Flipper's
Blow'n Chunks... Do I have any spare batteries?
I thought about calling Amanda, but remembered her "You don't have to call me all the time" admonition when I called from a booth in Jackson - she could feel my "I love you" and "I miss you" from miles away, phone or no phone. Or maybe she just hates the impromptu serenades?
"cravin' yo' affections
sufferin' bad connections
shovin' quarters in a phone
to prove mah lurve 2 u
bay-bay..."
Blind Pablo Hershkowitz, ladies and gents! Two shows nightly! Hide your daughters!
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