T R U T H

It was during an early morning drive from the Depot to pickup the day's job materials and the Stealing Beauty soundtrack came on studio quality sound system. It was 2 wicky by hoover and the opening " Prophet 60091 This is the flight number of our galactic sun" keeps reminding me of something.? I can't piece it together but the wah-wah tune stirs my brain over and again Now that I've written it down, the 60091 which isn't a zip code or a phone number hits me in the eye as a date. The zero day of June 1991, no such thing but ah! if 00 is midnight of the last day in May, what occurred then? Well snap my whitey tighties and pretend it's a bra - it was a Friday night two weeks from Preakness where Hansel won ridden by Jerry Bailey and that was the year our regatta included all the guys heading for the Block, except for Capt. Jim & me who opted instead to scarf down a grease burger at Dewey's on Pratt St. We just finished and paid our tab when this guy came in saying things to the counter guy and Jim said head for the door so we did. He thought he heard something about money from the register and that was enough for us to head for the Inner Harbor. Maybe that was the equivalent to a ticket to the galactic sun - must be so 'cause I'm still here writing about it 22 years later.