Sign Of The Time

David sent me a picture today, and in just a minute or two here I'm going to send it to you. The picture is intended to show me the couple inches of snow around the pool area of his Las Vegas home--which is really a pretty big deal for anybody accustomed to the 115 degree heat they get in the summertime over there--but I got distracted by something I noticed in the picture of his backyard, just along the far edge of his pool, and I'm going to ask you to take a moment or two here and get distracted with me.

Please zoom in. See the snow?

Now zoom in on the old wooden RailRoad Crossing sign sticking up in his backyard, about halfway between the lip of the pool and the white wall. See it?

Good. Now hold on that.

We've reached the point in our story where it's time for the Flashback...

FLASHBACK: weird music and squiggly lines across your screen...

It is about 15 years ago, and Rivers, Simpson and I, (all '65'), are standing along the cracked sidewalk of Santa Fe Ave in old downtown Los Angeles, staring up at a hundred year-old wooden RailRoad-Crossing sign that's been standing there since the late 1800's, guarding the intersection of 4th and Santa Fe, just before you go up over the 4th St. Bridge.

As we stand there looking up at this beautiful old sign, 10 feet tall, the railroad tracks have already been pulled up and paved over about 60 years ago. And/which means this RailRoad Crossing sign is now a defunct relic and has no practical value whatsoever to the City Of Los Angeles.

I'm telling you this because we are about to steal it, or try to steal it, and I don't want you getting any wrong ideas about our moral characters as we stand there in the gathering twilight of an L.A. summer eve.

Simpson (RIP) is standing a little apart from Rivers and me and holding a rusted, medium-sized carpenter's saw at his side. And he is pissed. He's pissed because David and I have tricked him into flying down from Seattle this afternoon under the pretense of going with us to some party or other up in the Hills, and he has only just now realized that there is no party and we really only wanted some help sawing down this old railroad sign.

So after a minute or two of telling us what he thinks of our invitation, and our friendship, he drops the saw down onto the pavement and walks off across 4th Street to my loft to wait for us to come take him to dinner. After all, we owe him.

Well, the saw wouldn't even put a nick in that thick, ancient railroad sign. Not a chance. A stupid idea in the first place. Simpson flew home to Seattle the next day and David drove back to Vegas. And Life went on.

A month later, as I was jogging along Santa Fe Ave, I saw that RailRoad Crossing sign laying on its side there, half in the street and half up on the sidewalk. Somebody had evidently run up over the curb with their car or truck and knocked the sign over on its side.

Just snapped it off.

And there it was.

I paid two of the street people from the neighborhood $20 to drag it across 4th Street, over to behind my loft. I called David, and two weeks later he came over with his truck and hauled it home.

Until this afternoon, when he sent me the picture of the snow around the pool in his backyard, I'd never actually SEEN what he'd done with the sign.

Nice job, David. A little shorter, but nice. And I like the way you touched up the paint.

Ol' Simpson sure did get pissed that day, didn't he?

Please get well, David. Please. I love you and I need you.

I know of some more old stuff I'd like to get.

TDK (65)

• Last Time Around
  
• Charlie Nevins
  
• Young Men And Fire
  
• Austin Healy
  
• Cathy
  
• David River's Birthday
  
• Han's Pavilion
  
• Muscles, Our Neighbor
  
• John Browne, Learning to Dance
  
• Your Brother Mark Browne
  
• Buster
  
• Celluloid Lies
  
• Nuked
  
• Learning to Box
  
• Dog and Goose
  
• Buses and Such
  
• Stealing
  
• Hookybobbing
  
• Stiles Old Upstairs Apartment
  
• Sign Of The Time
  
• Learning to Drive