What a night. Never got off my feet for even a minute.
And hardly any decent tips, except for just one.
I'm more fried than Big Al's eggs.
Something strange, though. I got this folded up piece of paper, along with a nice fat tip, from some guy who came into the diner last night. He was a strange one. Couldn't quite figure him. He looked like a cross between Humphrey Bogart and Harrison Ford, only more intelligent than both of them.
I think he overheard me and Al arguing about something to do with religion. I can't really tell you what it was about. That's private. But this geezer, well I say geezer because when I looked him in the eyes he seemed really really old. But except for a mass of stubble, his face was as smooth as a baby's. Not a line in it.
But here's the thing. He left me a tenner, and all he had was a cuppa joe. Black, no sugar.
Didn't even finish drinking it.
Go figure.
This is what was on the piece of paper:
NECESSARY LESSONS
Do not advise those who are not in love.
The unloving, like the insentient, cannot understand.
Do not distance yourself from the wise,
But avoid the shallow instead.
The ungiving disappoint God.
They cannot see his face.
Do not waste time on drab pigeons,
Who consort with moles,
Who avoid the deep diving loon.
Falcon and King, each praises the other.
Even a small falcon is a falcon still.
And if you wash some dark stone for fifty years,
You won't really transform it.
The hidden sun changes appearance.
Some say it ceases to be.
It never does.
Yunus, don't be stupid.
Mix with the mature.
A fool who talks of spiritual things is still a fool.
~Yunus Emre, Turkey, ca. 1300
Oh yeah. One other thing.
He said his name was Sam.
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2 comments:
ericswan | News R CIA
I prefer win scare.
Then again, I'm thinking progressive here. I just hooked up to a website after having been given a 4 hour video on the ins and outs of 911. Have to admit that there was more mininformation, obfuscation, general dystopic malfeasance and now I'm confused. The guy who gave it to me tells a credible tale about being the illegitimate grandson of Howard Hughes. Met his grandmother in Alberta in a movie shoot called Hells Angels which Howard produced circa 1931. Apparently, the name came from the bombers who parked at Hughes airport. Most of these guys went for fast bikes and formed a club. Seems the club is still going. Anyway, he links me up with a very bad video with internet links which seems like a hook back to bikers and CIA. Go figure.
www.hawkscafe.com
I wonder if they serve waffles there? Now I'm hungry but then I could just pull on a nother cigarette and that should put me over til wifey gets home.
Suwannee:
What are you doing out here in Idaho?
Or is it Iowa?
Left my map in the glove box.
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