I don’t know, I just don’t really relate to the whole new age scene at all. I kind of equate the music with some relatives; it’s often self-indulgent and painfully boring to sit through. Although, a new age relative said, “When you were born you were screaming for weeks as though your former self had been happily finished with all the trauma and obstacles,” and something clicked. I don’t know what it was, but one thing I know, it wasn’t the sound of some lady phoning in and complaining that her sprinkler emitted lamb. That just wasn’t factual to begin with anyway.
So with that I was off to Arvada off of Route Q, walls of mortar presiding. I was going to get those damned pharmacy instructional recordings for tonight’s big skating-rink-DJ booth-takeover. They’re right by the rear entry, which the door is always open to, unattended. 5 or 6 tapes about incubation, gavage speculums, tanks and hypnosis. But the kind for filmstrips, with slight 70’s background music in it, full of wah guitar and the tambourine. After a few minutes of all that, there’d be some skaters reverting to the evil king himself! Doomed to live with the dead!
Nothing else happens in Arvada, just this cool blue pharmacy with cracky paint, that color was what, ’75, ’76? All the sterile labs stopped having aqua-blue outsides since that whole Evans Lab Of The Crow incident in ’77. Although a geriatric center of the same name made everyone wear similar sea green sheets and moccasins.
It was now kind of dark, hardly visible anyway and I remembered I couldn’t get any way out of this area once I was there, at the chemist of medicines. But the door was left open again. You can see from a block away, the row of all the other doors sealed shut then this rear door open a little bit. That was indeed partial redemption!
I walked kind of briskly the remaining portion, encountering a couple seventh-son bottle of nigh’train steeljacks. They wanted to do a removal of grimace, but my attitude was like dude, if you’re going to scrutinize pewter, then I refuse like any involvement, okay? They became curtains real fast and flew away.
At the back door to the place (it is brown), you have to open it really slow or it makes very loud noise. It was almost entirely open when an unlit night time security guard with a flashlight emerged yelling. He had his hand right on his gun in his belt holster, and he said he demanded Woodard Studdard to release congruent lines. He said it real loud and I don’t know him or this other guy. I was saying, it was like Licht on Aristotle: he said, “Fathom of glee, violently, will form debris.”
Quickly I went past and got the bundle of tapes and the security guard began flashing. Like the brightest strobe light can you imagine. Then he was spinning and somersaulting and I became invisible and exited the sector never to return.
Playing those tapes mixed with barking dogs, Peter Frampton, hammering noises and drinking a chocolate bourbon mixture.
