Not too long ago (summer?), an old friend and I spent a few days in the desert. My friend slept through the daylight hours. Most of them, anyway. My dog, who is very clever, pretended she had been bitten by a rattlesnake. The neighbors behaved oddly, even by desert standards. (Why the onion rings strewn along the fenceline? Why the pork loin in the yard? What about the lunch meats?) Every few hours, artillery exercises at the Marine base 20 miles distant made the windows shiver in their frames. America! The sky made me dizzy, especially at night but also at dawn. I was reading Virgilio Piñera, who looked like this:
The point of all this, though, is that my friend and I spent a few hours talking with a voice recorder running and that some small portion of our conversation (the part about his music) was just posted on Bomb's website.
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