CD2277__NEIL YOUNG / HARVEST__REPRISE
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One moment. Please.
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Lost Looking
With a bed and breakfast and a number of rooming houses in the nieghbourhood it's not unusual to see Asian people, map or letters in hand, looking lost. It no longer surprises me if two little old chinese ladies are at the front door, with the same expression. Conversation often refers to the universal mimic for hair cut, two fingers snipping. And they are directed to the home stylist, in a house like mine, one block over.
Standing on the street. Yesterday. Letter in hand. Puzzled expression. A young woman. Flashed a friendly smile as climbing into the truck. Walking up, as rolling the window down. Polite smile, she handed me a letter. Not expecting to see RCMP letterhead. The photocopy explained something about a file, with handwritten scratches of names and numbers along the margines.
She explains. "You know the Freedom of Information Act?"
"They say they have no file on me."
"I know they lie."
"Oh!" I exclaim.
She explains. "They say things about me."
"Say I steal things downtown."
"In the shops."
"Who would?" I sigh.
She explains. "You know. You know them."
"You tell them it's not true."
"You tell them."
The light bulb went on over my head. She continued to explain in more elaborate detail, untill interupted.
"You must tell all of this to your doctor." I explain.
That puzzled expression overtook her once more. Somehow more pained. And I drove away.
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I think I will change my name to ProfessorWiener.
______
One moment. Please.
______
Lost Looking
With a bed and breakfast and a number of rooming houses in the nieghbourhood it's not unusual to see Asian people, map or letters in hand, looking lost. It no longer surprises me if two little old chinese ladies are at the front door, with the same expression. Conversation often refers to the universal mimic for hair cut, two fingers snipping. And they are directed to the home stylist, in a house like mine, one block over.
Standing on the street. Yesterday. Letter in hand. Puzzled expression. A young woman. Flashed a friendly smile as climbing into the truck. Walking up, as rolling the window down. Polite smile, she handed me a letter. Not expecting to see RCMP letterhead. The photocopy explained something about a file, with handwritten scratches of names and numbers along the margines.
She explains. "You know the Freedom of Information Act?"
"They say they have no file on me."
"I know they lie."
"Oh!" I exclaim.
She explains. "They say things about me."
"Say I steal things downtown."
"In the shops."
"Who would?" I sigh.
She explains. "You know. You know them."
"You tell them it's not true."
"You tell them."
The light bulb went on over my head. She continued to explain in more elaborate detail, untill interupted.
"You must tell all of this to your doctor." I explain.
That puzzled expression overtook her once more. Somehow more pained. And I drove away.
______
I think I will change my name to ProfessorWiener.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
vim:
i no tell doctah....he white devil!!!
jjay:
niener niener niener you ain't got no....