Wednesday, September 9, 2015


I noticed beer bottles and a tray. The tray was
from some player's field in Milwaukee, where 
they made the beer  -   he said he collected things : 
coasters, trays, old beer bottles, openers, napkins,
cans and, even, matches. Apparently he did, yes
apparently he did. I'd seen this before  -  the same sort
of thing with race car guys, the NASCAR room, the
couch shaped like an IROC seat, or whatever. I
imagined it to be no different than a library, or a
roomful of books, for me. Collectible things,
not memorabilia exactly, no, just collectible.
Then the iced tea came out with the wife. Why that, I
wondered, and why not a beer? A true fidelity, I would
have thought  -  again, turning it back to myself, I figured
it to be the same as sitting in my library, amidst the books 
and the two chairs, and me bringing out comic books. I
didn't know; does a football guy watch baseball? And,
anyway, the wife was pleasant enough, and real fine to
see too. I was here to buy a car, nothing else, sign my
name, give him the cash, and split.
It's always so curious, how we dial in the scenes we live; 
well, me anyway. I'll remember this little one for a hundred 
years. How he had an Old Milwaukee lamp he wrote under,
signing the back of the title, and how his wife, still sweet, just
looked at me and smiled. Not once or twice, I mean, but almost
the entire time. How even the pen he used, down its side, said
'Schlitz'. I did my part, said thank you much, drank my tea, 
and left.

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