Gaddiss: "The Law of God"

While I was downtown, a traveler stopped and asked for money for food. I led the way inside the convenience store right behind the bus stop and bought him a whole cheese pizza and a Slurpee. He kept thanking me, promising to pay it forward.

Back on the sidewalk, he told me he was on his way to Colorado to help clean up the flood mess, that he could control the weather--how it rained on his ex-fianceé's birthday every year since they'd broken up, how he correctly predicted that a policeman's hat would be carried away by a gust of wind if the officer called him "crazy" one more time--and how he was the Time Machine. He showed me a coin with the Star of David and Hebrew script on it, saying he owned the only coin like this in existence.

Then he blessed me, saying, "May you have all the work you need," and "May you have everything you'll ever need in life."

And this sounds stupid, but I can't help wondering if things are going well (not extremely, that would be too good to be true) because they're eventually about to head back downhill at a breakneck pace, as is the law of everything ever, or if The Time Machine's blessing is at work.

Either way, it makes for an interesting little character sketch.

And all of a sudden, my palette has turned more muted and neutral tones, and my taste is expensive, and I want to get out of this town, but now, again, I find myself pulled in several different directions.

But the Year of Bustin' Ass begins on Tuesday, so I must be ready to hunker down for a time. It'll be hard.

But maybe I can take up my old instrument, dig out some of my old private lesson books from my storage unit.

And maybe something else is spurring me on...something that is similar, but is completely different from the normal inspiration. (If only the prospect were realistic.)

Since I won't have much time for theatre after this show, maybe it's time to be musical, again.