It is Ash Wednesday and that means I have to leave the house, alas. I have been immersed in things Pennario, wrapping up this immense discography and checking in with various kind souls around the world who are assisting me. Ha, ha! At one point I spoke out loud to Leonard. I said, "If I had known you had made this many records I never would have signed on for this."
There was no answer. I mimicked him to him.
"It'll be fun. We can talk about movie stars. I knew all these movie stars."
Silence.
"You actually told me that," I reminded him.
Sigh.
Back to work.
In such a fashion the hours fly.You blink and look up a Carnegie Hall review or something, you pour a cup of Bengal Spice, and all of a sudden it is getting dark.
And all of a sudden it is Lent. You are reminded that you are dust and unto dust you shall return. As if I need reminding, you know?
I took five minutes to ponder Ash Wednesdays past.
I had forgotten all about that one when I woke up after having nightmares about Larry Solomon and his vacuum cleaner, after he had vacuumed up my Mardi Gras beads. That was the Ash Wednesday when my computer freaked out and began its own penance, blasting Gregorian Chant for no reason.
And there was the Ash Wednesday two years ago all about wholly holy Wholey.
My personal favorite Ash Wednesday in recent years was a year ago when I walked in on that girl's confession. Ha, ha! I was laughing re-reading that. I never did see anyone emerge from that confessional.
It is hard to believe it has been over a year since then.
Perhaps she is still kneeling there!
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