Tony Tabla's push

My motorcycle's battery seems to have a tendency to weaken at Farmer and the Cook, a fantastic place to eat locally grown organic food. After finishing my lunch, I went inside and began to read the sports section of the LA Times. A car pulls up directly in front of me. The old beat up silver Toyota is familiar. Tony Tabla steps out. He eats a bird feeder cookie while downing a coffee. We catch up. It's been a while.

As we walk out the door, I say: "Hold on a sec, I might need a push, my bike's battery has been a little funny."

Tony: "OK."

Sure enough, the starter turns over a couple times weakly without sparking. Tony, exits his vehicle and gives me a push, I pop it into second it the engine vrrmmms. He follows me the back way to the estate.

Tony's spirit is high despite meeting up with a couple challenges. The recording of his CD has been put on hold and he's homeless. Lucky he's got enough friends to crash at here and there. He's on the road a lot performing. Last week he was in NY and a couple nights ago he was playing in LA.


Last Sunday night I gave Trish a call. Trish: "Hello?:

"Can I call you Snakey?"

"Uh... sure"

"Is it movie night?"

"Yeah, I have a couple DVD's, come on over."

"Do you need anything?"

"Yes, could you get me some cigarettes?"

"What kind?"

"American Spirit, yellow box... Oh yeah and some chocolate."

"OK, see ya in a few."

So I cruise on over with Snakey's vice fuel. What's interesting is that she lives right next to the cop shack. Snakey always seems to land on her feet. She'll be able to stay in this pad until August or September. The location is perfect because there's this violent schizo dude who has been calling up her friends and cruising the town trying to find her.

She has been painting lately. Buddha's eyes. She's been painting Buddha's eyes for days it looks like. I check out about seven of her paintings. They are all quite good. One is yellow, one is red, some are blue and some are green. One painting is a cartoonish landscape with a sunflower.

I end up watching Electra. It's better than I expected. While I watch, Trish paints, occasionally going outside to smoke a cigarette. She's broke she tells me. I still ask for reimbursement for the smokes. She digs up the cash and apologizes for having to give me four quarters along with the one dollar bills.

"I don't care, it doesn't matter."