Stations of the Breath - Part Two
To wit: Lloyd, formerly of high school and the previously mentioned powdered strawberries. Tall. Then and now. Musician and singer and not a bad actor; his Vladimir to my Estragon in a grade 11 Waiting for Godot scene study is the stuff of legend to a very small crowd (me, in particular). He is also perhaps the finest impersonator of a restless hamster in human form during a theatre improv that the world has ever been seen. These aren't the high points - he's an all-around, standup guy - but this is what first filters through me when I get a message in response to Part One of these postings.
Good to read a new blog. And though I am sure the names were changed to protect the guilty, I have absolutely no idea who you were talking about. Was I there?
For some of it. It'll make more sense as it goes on. And of course names are changed. The guilty need protectin' too.
Are you saying I wasn't there for you?
Never!
Never as in you're not saying that, or never as in I was never there for you? Paranoid suddenly.
You were always there for me, in friendship and the theme to 'Friends' sense of the term. You just weren't there for every aspect of the story I'm telling. You'll recognize when you are though. And it's intensely odd that you're online just now to notice...
Ah. And you were there for me too, la la la la la la la la la, as the song goes. Can you call me Lloyd? I've always wanted to be a Lloyd.
With two Ls, like that bartender in The Shining?