Simple Man

I was sitting at a café on Sunset Boulevard. It was an early, cold morning. I sat in the sun and drank coffee. It was a simple moment and absolutely perfect. A man rode by on his bicycle playing very loud music from some kind of music device. It was 1920s New Orleans jazz. I thought there was a certain irony to his musical choice. I knew he thought the same thing as he pulled on his suspenders, looking in his mirror a half hour ago.

People go to great lengths to put themselves on in the morning. I remember playing guitar on a goth tour of Europe. Everyone had makeup and mohawks to attend to every morning. I was often just too tired to get it together. I only wore eyeliner anyway. I stopped taking it off and would just add to it each night before the show. It turned out to be a look I could sustain. People have often said, “You’re such a simple man.” I thought they were busting my balls. But as I sit in the morning LA winter sun, I think that maybe they are right.

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