Slayer

I want to stroll among the cacti on a hot, dry day. The climate is so moist here. Tonight, the cold weather has returned, and the fire is back at full tilt.
There has been a lot of hanging out in the garage, lately. We nestle in next to the wood pile, around a busted up old paper-board card table, and listen to my crappy little boombox. It is usually tuned to KZOK, the classic rock station. Last night we switched it up; Jarrod and I listened to Slayer's Reign in Blood on cassette tape. He told me about the time he and Charlie Burns went to a Slayer concert. The lights went down, the music went up and the fists, and elbows and boots started flying. Jarrod got punched in the pit.
I miss going out to live metal shows. Those audiences let it all hang out. Headbanging, crowded around the stage, punching into the air, hollering, loving it, feeling it. Really being in the moment.
I got a new bed. The bar downtown is going to start hosting karaoke. We had burritos for dinner. Someone left the front door open last night and the fog leaked in.
-rf