Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Elm Street Incident

So thrilling to visit the eternal site of conspiracy
theories. So shocking to relive the event. The Pink Cowboy has turned sad and pensive. The whole scenario seems smaller than previously thought. The Grassy Knoll is uneventful these days. People pass by slightly amused. Two crosses in the street mark the first and seciond impact of the bullet. Ever the polite person, The Pink Cowboy took a photo of two rather bubbly young women that wished to prove their Dallas trip by being photographed with the Reunion Tower as landscape. The have heard of JFK. They were dressed like Hooters babes giggling
and puffing smoke. Hey!, it could be a lot of fun for bimbos of every kind to laugh it up at this historical site. The Pink Cowboy felt displaced. Here I was, finally seen it with my own bluesy eyes. This anthological piece of history. I was 1 year old when Kennedy was slained. He was revered by my family. The Camelot couple were of my parents age, so they saw an example of the accomplishments of a new generation. I remember all the Look and Life magazines, newspaper clippings and memorial booklets kept in a small traveling trunk at my grandmother's house. Being a Pink Cowboy, I was fascinated by the advertisements featuring beautiful women with red hot lipstick and gorgeous cropped hair guys in their cabana suits gently walking the beach of the Bahamas.
Lee Harvey Oswald was 24 years of age when he shot the President. At 24, I was working in the Front Desk of a Caribbean hotel. Desperately wishing for fellow pink cowboys to appear in my life. The Pink Cowboy thought on his way home, the Grassy Knoll desperately needs good landscaping.

Finding my way through the Big D

The Pink Cowboy has landed. A strange SimCity he has found. I have never seen so much waste of space in the form of freeways, connecting loops and never-ending rows of retail megastores. I'm mortified by the sheer size of this concrete jungle. My mission to find solace in this monstrous concrete slab called Dallas. Of course those are only my first impressions of this landlocked city. I am on a spiritual mission. I must find friendship, love and a decent livelhood. Well, in all fairness people are friendly. I left my home and job in the Caribbean to move with my siblings living in Northern Texas. My beloved Mother passed away unexpectanly seven months ago. This has been the most profound and perplexing event of my existence. So Dallas it is. Open, big as Barney the purple dinosaur, cars running at 1000mph. We shall see, I suspect there are hidden gems buried in the cracks of the lonesome state turnpikes. In the meantime or rather in the nowabouts, or the landingpad I must write, my life depends on it.