54 Hours. . .

. . 600 miles, 1 1/2 tanks of gas, 43 cigarettes, 15 beers, 5 cokes, probably several gallons of water, 4 or 5 cups of coffee, 1 snackable, 1 bag of salt & vinegar potato chips, 1 bag of trail mix, many oysters, Pad thai & red curry, an egg & cheese bagel, a barbecue sandwich, potato salad, bread, cheese, a deviled egg, one bacon cheeseburger and an order of fries later. . . I'm home. And tired. And kind of cranky, if the truth be known. I think it was the bacon cheeseburger, or maybe it was the cold and not very restful night, but I just got invited out for a beer and turned my friend down very emphatically. I took a shower & put on pajamas & all I want is to be alone, dahlink. It is so nice & peaceful right now. Everything in Charleston is in bloom. It was like going forward in time, into spring, into summer.

I had a great time, but you know, I don't want to live in Charleston any more. This shouldn't really be much of a shock, since I haven't lived there for 20 years, and you'd think I would have gotten around to moving back home if I really wanted to be there, but usually when I go down and visit I get all overcome by nostalgia and love for my friends and I think, "Oh, if only I still lived here! I should just move back! What am I thinking, not to live here?!" But this time, for the first time, I thought instead, "Damn, I hate the weather here, and the traffic is insane, these frickin' gnats are eating me alive and I love living up in the mountains. The beach is beautiful, but I like it better in Asheville."

I do love my friends though. Last night I was overwhelmed with love for them; they were all creating the most unholy din with all the musical contraptions that my genius friend M (whose party it was) creates. The man made a musical sawhorse. Yes. And it plays, as does the giant bass type thing that is made from large PVC, part of a 10 gallon plastic water jug and wire, the Japanese bambooey thing that sounds like an acoustic theremin, the PVC pipe organ and many, many other wonders. He dragged all these, also the more standard musical instruments, outside to a tent and wired the entire thing so that it was all amped to the max, and then we all proceeded to make what might, in kindness, be called shrimp factory industrial noise. It was beautiful. I wish I'd gotten more pictures, like when E had his fiddle neck up underneath the strings of the guitar/dulcimer thing that M made out of a galvanized drum and a banjo neck and everyone's instrument was 1/2 inch from the amp for maximum feedback. . in the cool Carolina coast night, with stars overhead and a huge bonfire. It was great.