pause the bullshit, let griggs do it's thing.

"do you know what you did last night?" he says with that sly smile.

i put my hands to my face, the light is too bright, "not really."

"you had fun."

and i look up and smile at him, because i did have fun, even though my stomach is exclaiming and my weight is rocking back and forth on my heels.

light glimpses of too many, granted too little too fast, as we held out glasses to meet over the table crowded already with empties, "to seth daniel p, to the man who taught us to love more than any other fucking man could have, to the man who brought us revolution."

conversations about who would win in a fight ... and graciously, they always decided that i would kick so-and-so's ass.

should have been carried to the car, but philosopher just helped me rediscover my feet. i climb in and lay on top of the three boys in the backseat.

we got pulled over fairly quickly, but buddha walked the walk and talked the talk. soon, we were on our way home again. failure to yield and all that and no, officer, we're too drunk to talk.

almost, not quite, almost feeling the pain of sleep as i lay in my bed, light on, shoes half off.

"come on, honey, come out here with us."

"no."

"come on, just a little while," as she helped me to my feet, and rockstar started playing my song.

flat on the hardwood floor, i stared as he sang out, and buddha just kept requesting more. i didn't want to cry.

explorer and i leaned on each other, harmonizing and taking deep breaths as our anthem came to rockstar's lips.

buddha pulled out some paper and started reading a poem to family, to something.

i stood up, surprised i could do that much, and glided into a fifteen minute spoken word that i don't remember but rockstar did accompaniment and apparently tape recorded the entire thing.

two kids, not really into the information that the five of us were throwing back and forth. one fell asleep out in the van, and one was just quiet as the five of us kept rolling the proverbial ball into each other's overlapping courts.

the room was dark, i remember that, and my hands were holding back my hair so that i had a clear view of the floor. i know i thought how nice it was to have these people here, in one room, exchanging, spearing, coloring in faded memories.

"i miss my bean."

"we all miss your bean."

and so the night came and went, you know the drill, music and debauchery and a day off in the morning and a retrospective griggs event.