Surge: Act II (Pre-Surge Intermission – On The Deck at Wilser’s)

So there we were on a dark and stormy globally warmed day in May, gathered around a table at Wilser’s before heading over to Surge at the Art Center on Charlotte Street.

Our barkeep was a beautiful young woman named Picaroons. She had a great talent for keeping full glasses before our drink-hungry eyes. Remember, we had just been wined-up in the name of art at Art+Concepts. We were a motley crew of writers, musicians, artists … not a respectable soul among us. But Picaroons never flinched; in fact, she smiled.

After which, we ordered many fine and frothy beers and stomped our feet in joy so hard that we nearly brought the deck down. But Eric rushed to the rescue and grabbed the railings and held them in place.

We were so grateful, that we drank his beer for him … himself having his hands full of railings and all, you know. Some old fart with a severely hair-challenged head looked on at the merriment and mumbled, “Wouldn’t see nobody drinkin’ nobody else’s beer in my day. No siree.”

Matte said, “Shut your fucking mouth, you relic has been from the 60s… you could’ve gone to Woodstock but you missed it, you fucking loser.”

Andrew and Mark were disgusted with the old fart. Andrew said, “Yeah, man, what’s that all about? Missing Woodstock. I’ll bet you missed the Monks as well. How do you live with yourself, man?

Joe showed the old fart a picture he’d just taken and said, “This is what somebody who missed Woodstock and the Monks looks like. Maybe you should just push your head into your beer and drown yourself.”

Deanna said, “I’ll draw a picture of you, you old fart. And show you how the rest of the world sees you.”

She grabbed Joe’s notebook away from him, bit her finger, and drew this likeness of the old fart in blood …

Yes, I know … there’s only a bit of red in here for a drawing rendered in blood. It’s one of those artsy-fartsy things involving exchange of ideas, rock n’ roll, and flashbacks to the 60s. And you might even be wondering if the old fart really looks like this.

Well, probably not. You see, the vast lines of this drawing actually conceal the truth of the artist’s true intention … to kill the subject of the study, as can well be seen when you look closely at what’s hidden between the lines …

Do you see the old fart’s skull? Yes, murder she drew … murder on the deck on a dark and stormy day at Wilser’s.

Next: Surge: Act III (Life in the Strange Lane: A Camera Goes Bad)

Extra Note: Don’t miss the readings from 6 till 9 at Wilser’s this Saturday as part of the NO LIMITS 12 Hour Read-a-Thon. Matte will be there. Mark Jarman will be there. And there may even be a gaggle of paddle poets.