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My “Bits and Pieces” post was growing a tad unwieldy, which presented itself as an opportunity to organize my dreams, even the ones with little in the way of context, much less length, and make them searchable for future reference, but then what’d be the difference writing them up as they occur in their own posts? The other night I was walking down an empty city street with an acoustic guitar playing “Wish You Were Here” (hopefully doing it at least as much justice as the kid once did) and crying through the lyrics. On the roof of one of the brick residential buildings was a floating sorting hat decoration.At an unlikely gathering of neighborhood moms—its likelihood naught due to my participation—one told the group at a table outside a restaurant in a local shopping center about her car being replaced with another model by the manufacturer without her knowledge. Despite the real world legal ramifications, I actually found this plausible after my experience back in college when Jeanette’s MR2 was impounded out of their gated condo parking garage by police for title impropriety during my watch. And wouldn’t you know it, it happened again before our very eyes: her dark gray Scion hatchback (didn’t L&L BBQ girl Kristen have one of those) disappeared and in its place was parked a big blue pickup with a matching belt holding down its running hood, like one of John Steed’s Bentleys. Update: I forgot the epilogue where I realized I left my wallet on the table and ran back to see a short Latina receive it and everyone else’s from her even smaller child, trained to collect them deftly from underneath, while the waitress watched.

Tagged cars, music