Chandelier Tree

by Pasadena Adjacent


Here’s the thing, Mr V and I usually take Sundays to put some distance between us and Rancho Garvanza. It’s been that way for years – and years meaning Columbus Day October 1985 when Mr V and I first met, shortly after having all his Leica equipment stolen out of the back of his truck. Yes, he always remembers that date, but I think it has less to do with me and more to do with that fucking Leica.

Columbus day fell on a Saturday this year, which is a separate day from Sunday; where this tangent first started. But don’t cry for me Argentina. 28 years payed off with a celebratory apple fritter from the nearby Laotian Donut shop. If you double up 28 years, that comes out to 56 years, which means that I have spent more then half my life (and some change) with Mr V. Thats the same approach I take to reading a book – the half way point (then some change) to make me feel it’s all downhill from there. Got ‘there’ this morning with the Poiswood Bible. The day after Sunday, for which this tangent started. Oh, and I have a feeling things will be going south for the Poisinwood clan too.

“So what about Sunday?” you ask.  Of course, you see the pretty pictures and want to know more. To start, I didn’t take them or film them. Someone else did – but I think they stole them too. So there you have it. And sometimes it feels as if you’ve had it, the half way point, things gone south and if you can only hold on an extra day – keep the lights on. You know, the cliches.

2811 West Lake Drive – lets go see the chandelier tree. We arrive, but the lights aren’t on. More daylight to be spent, so we circle the lake.

Silver Lake on a Sunday. A beautiful name for a reservoir paved in concrete. A landscape so covered in dreams you can’t hardly spit and touch earth. Countless joggers create a false breeze. I’m the fattest person here, Mr V the oldest. And a poor fool coyote trying to navigate his way on a ‘civic friendly’ crushed stone path. The anorexic girl with a pit bull tied to her waist, jogging in place so as to give the trickster a lead.

The lake; a three mile circle. We return to the car parked on a side street. Around the corner we can see the chandelier tree a short distance away. We can see the man in the house walking through the living room. We pull up to the curb and turn off the engine. The man in the house turns off the lights. I want to cry.

5pm deadline come Wednesday

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