The Twenty Seventh Day....

We left Arizona and in Colorado Springs a waitress in the King's Chef Diner took our order and smiled, and then smiled again from across the room. And in this smile seemed to be everything that is good in this world. I wish I had told her this at the time. When I remember her smile it makes me laugh and look up at the sky. She made the good food there taste even better and as we ate we could see, through the window, that outside the streets of Colorado Springs had turned to gold.

But we still made it back to Salida in time for Rebecca's Country Fried Chicken Show. Rebecca played some of Andy's CD and we became members of kHEN Radio. We spent the rest of the day with Irving, optimist supreme, laughing and drinking beer outside in the sunshine and I met a poet called Felice who said she wasn't ninety years old yet. She said, when she was younger, she had considered marrying a man whose second name was Felice because Felice Felice would have been a great name for a poet. But she didn't like him enough to go through with it. She took my arm and let me buy her a drink instead. That night Andy, Irving and I went to the Salida Cafe to hear another great Bluegrass Band and taste a few Colorado Whiskies and Andy played a magnificent set, punchy and competitive. Having other musicians there always brings out the best in him.

I don't think I read any poems that night. But I could be wrong.