Sunday, September 30, 2012

SUNDAY BREAKFAST




















Got up, got out of bed, went to the drawer and took my meds. As always I wished that I could have a smoke, but I can’t do that any more. What a drag it is getting old. What drugs one takes getting old. What would Elvis have done? But thank heavens for the NHS – in the USA I’d be dead. So I can’t complain and I cope. Refuse to mope, although processes are slowing. But I hope. It’s been hard to do all that was expected of me, write a new thread of demented fiction, write a review of Bob’s Tempest, write a bit of a song, and keep up the Doc40 posts. Oh yes my friends, I write. I write so I’m still in the vanguard of the charge but sometimes I must slow to a canter and catch my breath. Last week for example, I missed the chance to comment on Mitt Romney’s problem with the airplane window not opening. Damn! I cursed. Maybe it’s my overwhelming ego claiming that the world can’t get along with me, but, on the other hand, why should I give it the luxury?  

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The secret word is Medicine 


7 comments:

JoHnny de-Lux ~ said...

talkin' of your good-self, putting pen to paper..when will I be able to get my grubby little hands on your much hyped collection..Elvis died for somebody's sins, but not mine...???
there's still time for me to work on my loved ones & still be surprised on Christmas morning..come on DoC, give that publisher of your's a slap _

Mick said...

Consider them slapped.

Geoffrey Perrin. said...

Getting old sucks, as Kilgore trout said "life is short and full of stuff" but sometimes there seems so much bloody stuff.. Mick, you've been my favorite SIFI writer for decades, Phaid the Gambler is the only book I re-read, an old friend taking me on a journey to an all too possible future , for me anyway. I think you should know how much your work means to many people ..

mtl said...

I read Synaptic Manhunt first when I was 16, I loaned it to someone who promptly moved away and I spent the next 20 years looking in used bookstores throughout north america for another copy. In Byron bay Australia in 1998 I found a closed bookstore but somehow I knew a copy was behind that locked door. I had to leave before it would open again. I drove south, eventually to Melborne and found a copy in the first bookshop I went into, but the feeling I had in Byron still nagged at me so I drove back. It was there and it still remains one of my most treasured posessions.
So fear not Mick, The effects of your writing ripple through the continuum.

Maggie M'Gill said...

I became friends with fellow hoodlum Mike 15 years back in part because we realised that we both owned books by Mick. And 'Jim Morrison's Adventures in the Afterlife' (which I bought from the US) sits proudly amongst my collection of Doors memorabilia. Much enjoyed as well.

JoHnny de-Lux ~ said...

I see most folks are concern for your well-being..fuck the bull-shit DoC, get yourself an orgone accumulator..keep it outside, in place of of the 'privy' , the amount of time you will spend in one, you could be on the bog for all any one know's..does it work, or to be blunt have ya got the time to find out..??

stu said...

years ago i was on a corporate `team building` exercise, `who,apart from your parents has influenced you most?` i thought `yeah,like i`m going to tell you fuckers` where did i get that from? i`m 55 & i still sneer like a brat.thanks.
(i told them my old geog.teacher, they loved it)