Must be the water. Last night you went to bed feeling like everybody else on the planet.
This morning you woke up and the planet became different.
That’s a good thing – a good thing for you.
It means you finally like yourself – it took you all life to get there.
Maybe it was the way the sun hit your face – it does that this time of year – blazing through your bedroom window. Million watt good morning, right between your eyes.
You feel like laughing – even though reality doesn’t look good on paper, in your life it’s amazing. You have friends, you have a mind that’s pretty much intact. You’re not good around authority figures; they don’t understand you – they don’t want to. You don’t care. There’s that letter from the Draft Board. You aren’t going to open it. Not today – not now – maybe not forever.
You have your world – right here, right now. And right now it’s loaded with possibilities.
Getting ready for the roadtrip of a lifetime. You heard Toronto doesn’t have Summer like L.A. does. You’re bringing a sweater just in case.
It’s 95 in L.A. today – It’s 55 in Toronto . You’ll miss Summer in L.A.
You love the desert – you love the desert at night – there’s no desert in Toronto.
You can come back next Summer. No you can’t, you’ll get busted.
Prison. For years and years because you escaped and you came back. All for a hot breeze and night-blooming Jasmine.
That letter; it’s staring at you. Reality’s a pisser.
You feel different, but life is just the same as it was the night before.
You stare holes through the envelope. You finally pick it up. Feels like it weights a thousand pounds. Reeks Official.
You’re too scared to open it but you’re too happy not to open it.
Get it over with – you can face reality, even if you are a tourist. What’s the worst?
Rip open the envelope – shut your eyes. Big sigh and open them slowly.
Your draft card – detach – sign and take with you.
No notice – no summons – no greetings.
All worked up and nothing – at least nothing for now.
Life is strange – it’s still amazing, but it’s strange.
And an hour’s worth of B. Mitchel Reed at KMET from August 13, 1968
