The Missing Link

R, Maggie, Ruby and I piled in the car Sunday morning to get something to eat.  One of my favorite things in the world is to go out for breakfast.  I love the no-frills greasy spoon meal complete with sausage links.  Apparently so does Maggie and R (and Ruby) so I took them to a little place called the Lone Star Cafe.  It’s right on Hwy 92 going to Sierra Vista–and they have sausage links. 

I don’t usually eat much in the way of meat but when it comes to sausage at breakfast, it’s a must have.  While placing my order, the waitress and I got into a detailed conversation about how tasty links are and that patties were just a poor excuse for sausage trying to be a hamburger.

R asked me about blogging.  I was saying how you can find other blogs by clicking links on the current blog you’re reading (while I was eating my sausage links).  He whipped out his pen and in no time, I was immortalized on a paper place mat–links, blogs and all.   

After we ate, Maggie and I worked on some more music.  She had a poem from a gentleman up in Prescott that she set to music the night before.  I really love her voice.  She is a true musician.  It just flows out of her so naturally.  Maggie really encouraged me to just let it all out.  Let it go.  So I did.  She is my muse.  I will, however, spare you from the tracks we laid down together with my guitar playing and singing.  That’s for private listening only.  Here is her new song in all its glory (you may have to turn up the volume):

Lily (2:34)

On Monday, they packed everything up and headed off for their next adventure.  While I admire Maggie and R for making sacrifices in the name of art, I don’t know if I could live out of the back of a Toyota earning money from playing violin on the street. 

R commented on how poorly they’re treated up in Prescott.  Part of me is sympathetic to them in a live-and-let-live sort of way but the other part realizes that most people don’t change their opinions easily when it comes to grungy artists living in a car with a dog and no shower.  Am I an elitist?  Not really.  I personally don’t mind if someone chooses to live the hippy lifestyle.  It doesn’t really bother me if people don’t bathe frequently either, in fact, I actually think this country tends to overclean itself.  The only time I mind is when someone is so ripe it makes my eyes water.  That’s where most people–myself included–draw the line.

It’s nice to have the house in quiet mode again.  This weekend Ray is either going to LA to see his mom or Chicago to check up on Leona (she’s not doing so well).  I’m staying home for a much needed mental vacation alone with myself.  I can hardly wait.