Jim Trainer


In Uncategorized on September 26, 2011 at 10:59 am

Well your hair shone in the sun
I was so high I was the lucky one
Then I came crashing down like a drunk on a barroom floor
searching for my beautiful reward
searching for my beautiful reward. 

It’s 363 miles from Hippie Town to Riverwind Casino, out on OK-9 in the wasteland.  I haven’t been to Oklahoma in 6 years.  The last time I was in OK I was in charge of the transport of 4-metal dudes on drugs and 1 road manager who should have been. We were in a 15seat Ford Econoline van and hauling a halfton backline in a double-axel trailer.  The trailer rolled behind on both spares w/both fenders ripped off.  It was a nightmare.  The spectre of Dallas loomed and you didn’t have to smoke meth to feel how different the country was from just the year before.

I’m a big fan of the past, but not for nostalgic reasons.  It’s been dealt with and put down. It’s gone.  There are ghosts out there on the highway, though.  Other ones, dead&gone; ghosts other than the life I had, so too changed for the worse in one year’s time.

That was then.  It’s raining in Austin this morning.  I was listening in the dark before dawn with the glass doors open.  It’s the Fall Equinox, a time of equal Night.  My brain chemistry has not fully adjusted to the New Schedule.  Getting OUT of bed at 5:45am is not only completely opposite my regular hours, it’s odd&wrong.  My brain chemistry has not fully adjusted and I make mistakes.

I’ve been careless with my heart.  Now I’m getting out of town.

My summer with the night creatures&the Insane has fine tuned my hearing.  My instincts are keen&sharp.  That’s the funny thing about sadness.  Sadness and pain offer detachment and in that space comes this clairvoyance.  When yr not attached to outcome, when yr disengaged from even yrself&yr own ego, yr able to pick up on all the cues and clues and read them like a book.

It’s not extra-sensory, it’s equal night.

All that has ever happened to us is buried somewhere deep inside us.  Our own story gets retold w/Hollywood flare by the driven editor of the ego.  We make heroes of ourselves in the gaps where we can’t or don’t want to remember.

It’s great to be a hero in yr own story but the ones who have gone stay gone.

I’ll pray for the dead as I ride down their road.  Death is the only escape and they made it.  They’re free and they left us here to miss them&suffer.  We’ll be together again but first I’m off to that Sodom in the Heartland.

See you at the tables, cowboy.

Tonight I can feel the cold wind at my back
I’m flyin’ high over gray fields, my feathers long and black
Down along the river’s silent edge I soar
searching for my beautiful reward
searching for my beautiful reward
-My Beautiful Reward, The Boss


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