King St. John's Jim

Portland is battened down for the Winter, Sir. Very good, cadet, carry on.

Yes, the extended warrantee on Summer from our Indian supplier came broken in the box. Blame Fed-Ex. We kick started it a couple of times in October, but it fizzled and Summer is now a memory, Harvest is now a memory. Memories are now a memory.

The leaves from the trees had been thick on the ground in St. John’s Park and I loved hearing the crunch-swish as I walked through them. The were all picked up by the park department recently. I could have, would have, should have saved them by laying down in front of the machinery, but the Election of The Donald put me in WTF?!?? spiral.

Yup, very good work, Dr. Donald: Your shock hypnotic techniques of crowd control are legendary. Rasputin is Proud of You!

So, I offer my condolences to those brave crunchy-swishy leaves of Autumn. They are now a memory.

The James John Cafe still serves their espresso with a down comforter of golden crema. Slim’s is busy enough to run out of kegs. The patrons of the Hope for Health still look for health. The St. John’s cinema still has great kids matinees throughout the winter.

On the street, the homeless are riding buses, and hookers are turning tricks just to get warm. Throntle is able to tackle a John, walk around the block, and return with twenty dollars, two new diseases and a normal body temperature. If there were hooker movies like samurai flicks, Throntle would have ballsy moves thatZatoIchiandToshiro Mifunewould envy.

The two major entrees of the year, Christmas snow will be served on a bed of icicles, followed by rain to make the bare trees, with a side order of wind torn, mist-shrouded redwoods. It’s too cold for beer, so I’m looking for the recipe for Werm Tea. I’m going to need it, as I’ll not be using Throntle as a hand-warmer.

The three wise men at Gunas Lp are dealing with the chill in different ways.

• Southwick is stockpiling long-johns: To stay warm he is trying to figure out how to put a new pair on without taking the old off. He has envisioned it through the 5thAkashicRecords — All part of his mastery of Yoo-Hoo Koo-Koo.
• Tommy stays in the garage, hands in his pockets, Vroom-vrooming his engines, and playing CraigsList Whack-A-Mole with his many ex-lovers, while churning out new ex-lovers on a weekly basis.
• Roger says “neither a mole nor a whacker shall I be,” and is wintering far away on the Oregon coast, going into the deep research needed to complete his PhD in “Minding Your Own Fucking Business.”

On the War Against Amoebas — They move very slowly in Winter, having neither warm blood, nor cold blood. Nobrow has erected a blockade at the entrance to St. John’s near the St. John’s Beer Bus. In his position as recycling specialist he walks a beat of trashcans and maintains a vigil to protect St. John’s. He is planning to apply for a grant to install airport screening devices to save us from these giant gelatinous horrors. Big Sis doesn’t approve, but we know Big Brother Grabbed her by the pussy.

There is one advantage to barren trees in St. John’s in the winter: It’s easier to get tiny peeks of the bridge — Just step outside the front door of the James John Cafe, and you look straight down the roadway of the magnificent St. John’s bridge – barely visible through the twiggy trees. The bridge with the endlessly useful, absolutely graceful span beacons and sends the message that hope awaits.

Cadet, Batten down for Winter and cross the bridge to next year.

Where do you want to go? What bridges are there to cross? Yee-Haa! Let’s get a move on!