Some thoughts over coffee.
Hello. You’re looking fantastic today.
I bootlegged breakfast with my Grandpa. I am listening to September 10th’s breakfast while I eat December 10th’s. Grandpa’s wife has just entered the kitchen to tell us that she sees no storm clouds, despite the approach of Hurricane Florence.
Grandpa is pushing ninety, but he’s got a young wife. She walks several miles a day without breaking a sweat. She is 2 SLY 4 U.
Grandpa’s friend comes in and tells us about the gold coins he found down in Corolla after the previous hurricane. Sly looks at him with suspicious eyes.
While I play my forty-ninth melodic blues groove of the morning on my smooth-as-butter Martin guitar, Grandpa says, “the locals drive the beach road.”