Canoe

Perhaps if you were to come over to my house for dinner, and you asked, as we were smoking cigarettes and finishing up our coffee and pie, about whether or not things were okay at work, I would probably stare despondently into the middle distance, puffing with great torpidity on my flaccid cigarette and sighing deeply. My wife (I am a married suburbanite in this scenario) would appear, press her hand to her cheek and whisper to you, “That’s not such a good topic right now.”

THIS SCENARIO: because I am without job. I spend my days wandering the streets of Austin, Texas, looking into the windows of Quiznos and Doctor Feelgood Pool Equipment Emporium, staring with my hand against the glass like a barren woman at the window of a maternity ward.

On the brighter side I have amassed over 60 illustrations for the Whale and Submarine book as well as a soundtrack. If anyone reading this would like o hear this version of the sound-track and give me CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, I would like to arrange it. Also, if anyone reading this would like to be my benefactor and pay for the pressing of the records as well as the printing of the prototype book, the cost of which will be astronomical; I would forever be your slave. But it is my assumption that not ONE person reading this on television and consequently has income to devote to a depressed submarine captain who chases his wife around the world as her soul appears incarnated in the corporal forms of plants, animals, and rock formations. My father’s accountant J.T. would probably place such an investment in a spreadsheet column titled, “FRIVOLOUS PLEASANTRY”.

I went canoeing with Andy and a man called Jim Riley who is kind and possesses a canoe. I saw turtles, an underwater pine forest, and an island just for dogs.