And so I’m stepping out of my pickup, sun barely up, and this guy approaches me and asks where the best coffee around is.  At first I didn’t get he wanted money, it’s difficult to be sure in this neck where the fashion of affluent and poor is kind of blurred, you have to look close at hands and faces to tell sometimes. And so I get excited to say “Avellino’s for sure, they have the best brew.” I start to add to my pitch as I reach for the door but he interrupts and says, “well, where can I get money for coffee?”  And I try hard not to but in that moment cracked inside and got my firm on and was like like “hey man, you just wasted my time, and I worked for this coffee.  Truth is I’m on my way to work for about 10 straight for a service agency to contribute a little cash to my home, then I’ll get off and have a moment with my family, we’ve a baby on the way, and tomorrow I’ll be taking care of my here kid for no cash.”  And looking back on him he really had kind eyes he did, but I don’t like being tricked so I said with arrows “not today.”

And so I order my drip and biscuit (the biscuit a special treat you know, because I can afford it) and I get my change with him still in the background and we’re both thinkin’ as I put my silver coins in the tip jar.  And as he says as I’m leaving “wish I had a job” I’m 100 feet high looking straight down at him in my mind. And it was ugly and gross and it’s the holidays I feel, and I sense I was part right +  part tired + part wrong, yet I hang on to the wrong.       But? would it change your/his/my mind to know I check in to Avellino’s as if it’s church. Anything softened? knowing I go to make up for the lost business of a passed friend who loved the place, and the day he stopped going is the day I started.  Is anything gained? understanding that very same barista who can never quite place me came to his memorial to pay respect. That’s the kind of guy Kris was, people who poured his coffee were impacted by him.  And can I give myself any grace knowing five years later I’m still working up the courage to interrupt her business and say how much that meant, to reach across the counter and touch her.

We’ve got to see each other y’all.
We(s)  had a breakdown.

Photo by Evan Bridges

A disclaimer–>  I don’t really like disclaimers,  here’s a disclaimer:

My timing has never been great, and in many ways this next track seems misplaced, like those moments I’ve been caught bursting out with laughter when the room is stone-faced, or vice versa.  Here’s the thing,  this incident happened a few weeks back and I jotted it down.  It struck me some, and would have made a nice segment on its own, something about staying true to the Christmas spirit and such, but would have left far out of sight the story(s) behind the story.  I tend to do that.  For reasons, I decided not to leave so much film on the cutting room floor with this one. Still I hesitated to press send and it sat while we had a baby and the universe shifted. Misplaced now right, so I hesitate again. Several influences, some comfortable, some un, keep nudging me to share it instead of letting it digitally die in my draft outbox.  My lady is a big one, she helped me and saw in it what I/we saw in it. Another influence I must acknowledge is some corresponding going on with the Rockwell side of my family. They gone deep, what cuffs me?  In my sort of way I guess this is a nod in their direction.  Track 27 is also a bit late, against what I’ve set as a personal trend of “logging” what’s been going on in my life or mind during a given week or so in time.  Yet, today somehow it fits.

At a glance it’s a bit darker, so avoid for now or altogether if your belly isn’t right for it. These things show up on smartphones and work PCs, I get that.  That all said, this track is redemptive on some level, and darn good I’ll say it. Much goings on in it,  I guess like me.

Your time,  thanks for it.

Wes