August 16, 2016
“I’m not sayin’/there wasn’t nothin’ wrong/
I just didn’t think you’d ever get tired of me”—MB Twenty
So it’s August 16th again
Great
I’m fine with it
Really
Just put the parade back in your pants
about it, will ya?
Because that parade looks miserable
Honestly
The floats don’t seem to be floating
The marching band’s been replaced by
a trombone full of rats and
what the hell have you been feeding those balloons?
August 16th, home of cold Taco Bell and insomnia
land of these long assed shark infested serenades
A lot of things have happened on oh 8 sixteen
over the gut shot course of all these years
some substantially less heart breaking than others
Bukowski/Madonna/Paul Soter was born
Elvis died
I married Helen
Probably in that exact goddamn order
I don’t know
I’m too moody right now to do the math
August 16th 2003, that was a big day
She stitched the date in the back of my shoe
I still have it
(not Helen, the shoe)
I still have the shoe
and the memory of sitting
in a Westport hospital waiting room
next to a long haul trucker with a busted arm
and an unattended head wound
who really loved Elvis
That’s how I know Elvis died on the day he did
This busted armed trucker told us all about it
while I sat there with Helen waiting to get our blood drawn
so the state of Connecticut could confirm
that we didn’t have syphilis
Because for some reason it’s the law out there
You’re only allowed to get married in Westport
if you can provide documented proof
to Paul Newman’s pastor that you don’t have syphilis
“Do you have syphilis?” I asked Helen, after she’d
told me the news that the government wasn’t going
to let us get married if we happened to have syphilis,
between shots of Canadian Mist
“I don’t have syphilis. Do you have syphilis?”
Helen laughed back. Damn she was amazing.
(Fuck)
“I don’t think so.” I told her. “Let’s find out.”
[Historical Note: By ‘find out’ I meant let’s have sex
right now and see if our private bits fall off’, not
let’s go sit in a waiting room and learn a whole bunch
of stuff about Elvis]
So even though we were pretty damn sure
we didn’t have syphilis there we sat
in that medicinally scented waiting room
waiting to find out for sure
waiting for the blood to be drawn
and the tests evaluated
so the doctor could bust through the door
with chocolate donut stuck to his face
smiling with his arms spread wide
and declaring in a voice loud enough
to project across the tiny room
“Good news, you two! You don’t have syphilis!
That’ll be 50 bucks each. Good luck on your std free new life together.
You can pay the lady I’m definitely not banging
at the front window on your way out.”
[Historical Note: She was totally banging him. The entire office literally reeked of cliché]
The Elvis loving truck driver congratulated us
on our living in the modern goddamn world
and not having syphilis, the entire time looking like
he should have bled to death hours ago
I mean fuck, that head wound
it was Viva Las Vegas
But damn, I liked him
and he knew a lot about Elvis
Did you know Elvis Presley
was actually allergic to peanut butter
and his favorite band was Matchbox Twenty?
His favorite color was Pricilla
and he only slept on his left side
because if you sleep on your right side
all the time you’re gonna eventually run out
of right, which only makes sense, right?
Becaise what happens when you run out of right?
You start doin’ wrong
and when you start doin’ wrong you blah blah
blah blah blah
and then fuck, what do I know?
Tonight she’s been gone for the exact amount
of time that we were together
What’s that got to do with syphilis?
I don’t know anymore
It’s fine
Just call me nostalgic
Because if nostalgic means
a person who’s overly sentimental
about certain things that are irrevocably gone and also has an
abnormally large penis then sure,
Fuck it
I’m nostalgic
You win
Full disclosure, I totally ate nachos from Taco bell on the day this week. (no sour cream. gross). And I’m from Holland. Isn’t that WEIRD?! And this is really good and funny and gut wrenching. #syphilis Makes me want to watch Out of Africa 🙂
I picked up a copy of Out of Africa on Blu Ray a few years ago but I haven’t actually watched it. Not since the days of dvd, Sabu.