Hwy 22 Yard Sale a Bust

Better to try an fail than never to try. Better yet: to try, fail, and adapt. That's the ticket. Live and learn.

It was one of those highway yard sales, this time on the road that goes from Franklin GA through Roanoke and on to Wadley. Overcast skies, cool air, light turnout, and a yard sale, for Pete's sake = no sales. Well, none but for a pity purchase of Cain by the nice lady at Bridge the Gap, where we exhibited. Who goes to a yard sale to buy new books?

Nobody, that's who.

But even at an event that was otherwise a bust, good things can happen. Usually it has to do with meeting people. Or even one person. Somebody who engages you in a conversation that reveals common interests, shared acquaintances, and other small surprises.

Sales aren't the only things you can count. Blessings, too, I suppose. Amen.

The Red-Word Mask

Dat sneaky ol' devil, he a lyin' sonofagun

Tear pages out da book, red words of the son

Make a mask dat blushes all holy and meek

So da good folk listen when he speak

Yes they do

The good folk listen when he speak

Funny how the lies and the alibis

of the silver tongued Lord of the blue-tail flies

Sound so wise and good and true

When they come through the mask from the devil to you

That's right

Through the red-word mask from the devil to you

When the shepherd can't get to the lamb

When the son goes crazy

When the father goes insane

When the husband runs off

Leaking poison from the brain

Who you gonna call when the shrink don't know

Why the demons run amok and the angels never show

Who you gonna turn to when the jail doors slam

When the shepherd can't get to the lamb, Lord

When the shepherd can't get to the lamb