August 22, 2008

Beyond Sebastopol

On the Gravenstein Highway just beyond Sebastopol a spindly young black guy wearing a grey suit with a straw hat and a huge bass saxophone strapped across his back rides slowly through the dry shimmering; it seems too true to be real, but it's one with the Zen center, the Sensuality Shoppe, and the roadside bars here, I guess. This time the anti-war signs are faded, torn, shabby, a little less abrasive; in any case, no one's honking as they drive past any more as far as I could tell (did they ever?).

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