“Sometimes I wonder where my next’s meal coming from.”
You can’t express it more plainly than that.
I’m not too far removed from where these people have been. You can see the amber pharmacy vial behind the computer screen.
My perspective on things still ain’t quite right after what happened in Istanbul. You can see that plainly too.
I was drinking too much arak and smoking far too much hash than is healthy for my mojo.
Midnight Express was never far from my mind.
After the DTs stopped, I thought it might be good to hit a goshdarn meeting, although these are well-known, born-again spy nests that prey on credulous Islamics with a drinking problem.
So I looked. Nothing for a while, until finally I found one in a less skanky part of town.
I walked in to a room with a framed poster of From Russia With Love hanging on the wall. There was only one guy there, sitting on one of the vintage Kohn bistro chairs that were arranged in a circle on a tattered carpet. He looked complicated.
I sat down next to him, and waited.
Finally I asked the guy when the meeting starts.
Soon, he said.
This meeting been around long?
Then he said, you’re the first one to ever show up.
I considered this.
Then I said, you manage to stay clean that whole time?
Mostly, he eventually replied.
They say there’s no such thing as a bad meeting.
Funny thing is, I’ll be back in Istanbul airport for a few hours in mid September, on my way to Gouna.
You can listen to Dylan ‘s complete version of Moonshine here.
Good old Irish tune; so knock back the Guinness on this one.