My secret love for dogs was no secret. It began in 1979 or 1980. I couldn’t hold it in anymore so I bought my friend’s golden labrador a bone. Maybe the cutest act I’ve ever committed. It’s been downhill ever since.
I’ve only lived with one dog and it wasn’t by choice. A human love couple decided to “lend” me their german shepherd/collie for a weekend in 2008; same season the Brewers won the wild card; their first playoff appearance since Gorman Thomas ruled Milwaukee and he really did rule Milwaukee.
The human love couple were my friends, but they made it sound like they were doing me a favor. They needed a dog sitter, but sold it to me like I was in need of a companion. Maybe they were right, but I wanted nothing to do with their dog, with any dogs for that matter.Too much responsibility.
As it turned out the dog stayed longer than a weekend. Maya was her name. That half German Shepherd/half Collie stayed for 2 freaking years.It was genuine hot love as deep as any Paris cafe cliche. Maya licked my body head to toe when I arrived from work. She slept on the edge of the bed.
How can you not love that face? And she was fierce too; catching,and killing birds with her bare teeth and making enemies with the more civilized dog owners; like the ones who pay big bucks for pure bred huskies and walk around with them like trophy wives.
Maya was never neutered or spaded or whatever. Why would I ever do that to such a gorgeous wild creature? I never trained her either, but she never raped anyone. I let her run free and we suffered dirty looks and verbal threats. “If your dog touches my cat, I’ll shoot her.”…..It was like being back in the USA!
The Brewers won the National League Central in 2011. That was a wild time; me, myself and Maya drunk; jumping up and down with Nyjer Morgan. I already had a guitar. Got it from a friend who slipped into Orthodox Judaism. She surrendered it for 50 bucks. I had a crush on that girl, so 50 bucks was nothing. Haven’t seen her since.
I taught myself some chords and well an amazing thing happened. Maya whimpered and fell slowly to the floor; jaw over her paw when I plucked a specific part of the freight board. She was like a parakeet; always on cue. Incredible or maybe cruel? Love is a dirty game.
I eventually gave Maya to a friend up north in Gaspe, Quebec; more open space for her. I kept playing the guitar and wrote a bunch of songs, just a bunch of chords with lyrics and hell if I remember them, but I recorded them on my 80 dollar Sony audio baseball interview recorder; uploaded them to You tube.
The Brewers are stuck in a colossal skunk fart; losing 8 games in row, another one yesterday …swept by the Cubs and now 3 games behind the red turds! Misery street but wait. I wrote a song called four corners and now is the time to make it a talisman and reverse Brewer woes into wins, four wins.
The red turds come to Milwaukee town for a four game series; beginning today-Thursday-Turds Day. Sweep those stuffy red coat red turds and it’s back in first. The Red Coats with their fake badges and schmaltzy traditions. More over the top than the Yonkles. Vomit.
The song four corners was about me at an art exhibit. In the song I get confused; not knowing if the coat room is part of the exhibit? I know nothing about art, but it was a good time and only lasted 25 minutes and I got in free with my fake media pass.
These 4 corners could easily be 4 division crowns of yesteryear and the wide open spaces of the exhibit-the wide open spaces of wild card…10 teams now invited to the playoffs. And I used to hate wild cards and I used to know nothing about art, but now I love wild cards and now I know a tiny bit about impressionist and what they do with oil to recreate water. My goodness, so many blues….Brewer blues.
The song has decent lyrics but needs some punk edge or country slide guitar, rap, all of the above. I don’t care. The public swimming pool still shakes with water but it’s closed and will soon be sucked free of water and replaced by crunchy leaves.
The Brewers are 73-66.