auggie has a morning ritual where he walks around touching things with his front paw -- the bathroom door, the shower curtain, the kitchen wall, me -- as if to claim them.
sometime soon, whenever i have a day off when there's nothing else going on, i'm taking my notebook over to the old wreck room site and i'm going to sit there and write awhile. want to do it before they build some bullshit on the site. for lotsa folks i know, the wreck was just one in a series of spots they inhabited for a time, but as i sat out the '80s guarding freedom's frontier, it looms particularly large in my personal mythology. while i'm grateful to still have spots where my bands can play without having to hustle too hard, playing lola's palooza last weekend made me realize just how gone el wreck realy is.