Life in the Desert
No one ever knew her real name. She went simply by Big E, and everybody called her that. A regular at the all-night diner where the band hung out after gigs, her rasping voice rose far above the usual racket. The place seemed to thrive whenever Big E was around.
A rowdy “Ain’t that a wig?” coming from the blonde’s garishly painted lips would send all around her into fits of convulsive laughter.
Taking up two of the stools at the crowded counter, Big E always held her court until the wee hours of the morning.
posted by Harry | 1:00 PM
9 Comments:
And no sign of E minor? Well, you know what they say, Harry: every boy good deserves apples for eating...
Here at the cave I changed that to "Doze boys", although I enjoy me a Spaniard now and then.
Ack. All too often I experiment in the key of H (for haste) Dem apples do good boys apply.
As I understand it,Big E didn't take no crap off marines or navy.......rofl
She certainly did not, Peas. And as I recall, the really wise never gave her any. "Land, air and only sea, ne'r to trouble the Big E"
Sorry, Harry, I think I was in "Hereunder" mode when I read this piece. I was searching for the hidden meaning and thought I detected a musical theme behind it all. Hence my apparently obscure comment.
Oh well, back to the drawing board...
Reminds me of Flo, on the 70's sitcom, Alice
Oh, but contrair, Sir C. You nailed it all right. I for one mistook the scale for the tuning of the git, but being the onlt git that types, became unstrung. Hereunder lays my apt ology for miscontruing-ing-ing.
Being somewhat fond of math, Hannah, shall we multiply? Say by six?
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