Overheard at the Counter

Niall Carter, reading his phone, says, "Verble just tweeted an article that says there's a study showing that they might have a pill for PTSD."

John Steppenwolf asks, "Before or after?''

Niall Carter, still reading, "Looks like right there on the battlefield. Along with the other medic supplies, a little pill to take care of it, right before it sets in."

John says, "Great. Just great. That's all we need - another example of treating an illness with another disease!"

Niall says, "Well, I've got a shure-fire 100% cure for PTSD - it's called DON'T GO TO WAR!"

The Barista, refilling their mugs, says, "Amen to that!"

Overheard at Table 1: A Case for Monogamy

She: . . . I want you to go to another hospital.

He: this one's fine, I don't need to go. they did the bloodwork, it came out the way it came out.

She: chase said that you and she were cheating on me, and she's got all the diseases n'sh!^, and I want you to go get checked out.

He: told you i DID.

She: noooooo, I mean at a hospital that i want you to go to. That one has the girl that - she'll do anything to get into your pants. I don't want you getting tested by someone who's gonna make it look like you're OK just so she can get into your pants. I know she wants to get into your pants - I SEEN her.

He: she's NOT gonna get in my pants.

She: Kristi did! And she weren't even trying that hard! i know you n me was broken up that week, but sh!#, really? I mean, for real? noooooah, i want you to go to that clinic downtown, where they got doctors i can trust!

Overheard at Booth 4: William Stafford "What's in My Journal?"

What's in My Journal?

Odd things, like a button drawer. Mean
things, fishooks, barbs in your hand.
But marbles too. A genius for being agreeable.
Junkyard crucifixes, voluptuous
discards. Space for knicknacks, and for
Alaska. Evidence to hang me, or to beatify.
Clues that lead nowhere, that never connected
anyway. Deliberate obfuscation, the kind
that takes genius. Chasms in character.
Loud omissions. Mornings that yawn above
a new grave. Pages you know exist
but you canât find them. Someone's terribly
inevitable life story, maybe mine.

-- William Stafford

Overheard at Booth 2: The Egyptian Revolution

Darwin tells Lydia, "It's exciting what's happening in Egypt, don't you think? I mean, they're having a real revolution - like, a REAL one, with kicking out the oppressive government and everything, I mean, I keep hearing on the news all these guys talking about how Mubarak should go - I mean, this is some exciting stuff, right?"

Lydia says, "Well, yeah, I s'psoe so."

Darwin says, "Well, don't sound so overboard with excitement, right, OK?"

Lydia looks at her iPhone, says, "I keep seeing the tweets coming through, and that's cool, and yeah I saw online all this streaming video of guys on the street trying to crowd the camera, get their voice out, you know . . ."

Darwin says, "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about, that's what's so mind-blowingly cool - why aren't you stoked about all this?"

Lydia says, "Well, it's just that I don't see any women out there protesting. I don't hear them talking about women at all. I mean, what good is change if it's just going to be some young guys who keep women stuffed inside the house replacing some old guys who keep women stuffed inside the house."

Darwin says, "Really? Man, leave it up to a chick to spoil a perfectly good social revolution."

And Lydia, for the life of her, can't tell if he's joking or not.

Overheard at Booth 1

I was trying to find a radio station on the clock radio last night, some station that I could wake up to in the morning, y'know, and all I was getting was static and in between the static was all this hate radio

- hate radio?

yeah, like guys all talking about how the government's out to control our minds and how the health care is just them wanting to tell us what to do, and all sorts of spew . . . what's that word you like to use for "spew"?

- I dunno . . . vitriol?

yeah, that's it! Vitriol! but they we're laying it on, y'know, and I realized man I can't wake up to this ship, y'know, this would just put a ruinous start right at the top of my day, and then I realized I was on AM, so I switched to FM.

- any better?

I s'pose. FM was all in Mexican, but that was a lot better than some guy telling me how bad it is that Obama wants me to eat my broccoli.

- broccoli? For real?

yeah, man, for real, this guy had been saying, AND THE GOVERNMENT'S GONNA TELL YOU YOU CAN'T EAT FRIED FOODS! THEY'RE GONNA TELL YOU YOU CAN'T EAT MCDONALDS! THEY'RE GONNA TELL YOU YOU HAVE TO EAT YOUR BROCCOLI! and I was thinkin', man, why are these [EXPLETIVE DELETED] treating us like we're five year olds? I mean, only kids and people who still think like kids are gonna pick up on that and use it to fight the government.

- it's been working for them for over ten years now.

are we all really that much like stupid dweeby children?

- do you really need an answer to that?

No, I s'pose not . . .

- so . . . what'd you finally wake up to? What'd you set your alarm on?

I put in a Smithereens CD. Green Thoughts. Woke up to that.

- the classics: they never go out of style!

Overheard at Booth 4: Facebook

1: saw an article this week talking about the best time to get your kids a Facebook page. some were saying 13's the magic number, the time they're mature enough to handle a Facebook page.

2: personally I don't think anybody's mature enough to handle a Facebook page!

Prairie Walker and Louisiana Smith

Louisiana Smith was sitting cross legged on the chair at Table 3, while Praire Walker took her turn on the small stage, flute in hand to mouth. Smith thought of the first time he saw her, somewhere late in the afternoon, in the mountains, when he had committed the unforgivable sin of wandering too high without thought of bringing a jacket for the night, when the temperature would plummet almost half a century of degrees. But she had been there, playing that flute, just beyond the next rise, and he found her, and she had seen him, and she had had an extra blanket and she built a fire and the fire and the blanket and that music had kept him warm until sunrise, when they walked back down the mountain, as one.

So, with that moment affixed in his mind's eye, Louisiana Smith reached down to open the guitar case lying on the floor at his side, and, withdrawing the guitar and slinging it across his shoulder strap as he stood, he began toward the stage where he would join his wife in song.