[lumberjim]

The parking lot at the coliseum was like a festival. A festival with crowds made up of familiar faces. There was the Patch Guy: He was a loner as far as anyone could tell. He was at every show I’ve ever been to, and I always manage to find him in the crowd. It was like Where’s Waldo. He wore jeans, jean jacket, and hat all covered completely with patches of overwhelming complexity. The image in my mind is just splashes of color on black backgrounds. Mainly circular patches about the size of a coaster. He is a very dark skinned African American, maybe 40 yrs old, but he could have been older. I never once spoke to him, as he was always walking by half dancing and mumbling a little. I usually found Goat Boy, too. He was short, and muscular, with super fat dreads, a sharp little goatee, and a face that put one in mind of a goat. He was cool. Distinctive.

We hadn’t seen a lot of our friends for a month, and when we ran into Tony and Rachel, we felt a little less alone. Then we saw Gina. Oh….yeah. ….Gina.
She was alone sitting in the open doorway of her van. Terry had resurfaced, and was with her, but not just then. We attempted small talk, but it was so awkward, that we didn’t hang around long. Later that day, someone gave us a puppy. We planned to give him to Gina. Fonzie. I have no idea what kind of a dog….maybe Akita. He was fluffy, and pointy eared. And he just looked like the Fonz. We didn’t see Gina until the next day, and she reluctantly accepted the dog. We learned later that he had peed on or chewed one of her dresses and was given away to some college girls that loved him when they met him.

We met another dog that day. Pocky. God Damn. Pocky was the best dog ever created. He was HUGE. He was pure white to the yellow side, and wolf shaped. I’m 6’2” and Pocky’s shoulders were up to my belt line. Pocky was traveling with a young couple and two other normally large dogs. I think a large Terrier, and a Labrador. I don’t recall if the owner told us what his lineage was, but it had to be some derivative of a large wolf. He was as calm as the deep blue ocean, good spirited, and just the right amount of playful for a dog that size. His owners wanted to stroll about shakedown street and go visiting, and we offered to pooch sit Pocky. We were selling crystal necklaces and doing hair wraps as well as selling our bagels and sodas. I can still see in my minds eye, the image of Pocky lying across the top of our blanket in the shade of the car. It was the back of a chevette, and Pocky’s span from nose to hindquarters was every bit as long as that car was wide. Friendly and inviting, and absolutely confident. Pocky drew people out of the crowd who had noticed him. They probably bought stuff, too, but I don’t really recall specifically. He picked up one of our larger crystals once, and began to wander off with it, but when I raised my voice to him, he ducked his head briefly and returned the item. Smart, too.