The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

Tricky: Scenes from a Life #54

Tricky kicks back, with Checkers and a stuffed lion (1964)


Flickhead said...

Growing up in Wantagh, New York (on the south shore of Long Island), my high school was directly facing the Bide-a-Wee animal clinic and pet cemetery, where Checkers was laid to rest. Fresh flowers were put on his grave weekly -- and may still be, if Trickard left instructions in his will.

Poor Checkers weathered the wrath of inebriated, anti-Establishment types like myself who'd employ his headstone and its floral arrangement as a makeshift urinal late, late on weekend nights after we'd *par-tay* in the adjoining woods.

But that was over thirty years ago, the statute of limitations clearing such misdemeanors and randy indiscretions.

Vanwall said...

Would've been best to pass the whuskey thru one's kidneys on his owner's last resting place.

estiv said...

A stuffed lion? You're joking, right? That looks like a poodle that's in the process of barking, and foreshortening is making it look big. Unless you believe that each of Nixon's shoes is actually twice the size of his head.

SomeNYGuy said...

Piss on Nixon all you like, but Checkers was a beauty.