Wednesday already? in Adjunct to 8/9/2013 flash friday; a trinity of flashs

The flag of piracy flew from my mast my sails were set wing to wing
I had a jukebox graduate as a first mate, she couldn’t sail but she should could sing — Springsteen

Every few months that line comes to me, not the song, don’t care for the song, I liked the album. I don’t think any male who grow up in my time and space didn’t like that album. That’s not why I think of it. It’s the sentimental way of justifies fourteen years of marriage. I mean the last one, and fourteen years is just on paper, it was really five years, down a year, three years, down a year, and whittled down further.

Overall it sucked, the denouement was definitely anti-climatic, but, you know, not many sonsabitchs marry rock stars, and she sure could sing. There was a lot more than sailing that she couldn’t do. For that matter I don’t think Springsteen sailed much, I could probably get a sailboat back to shore on my own if the captain and crew died and I don’t have a fucking clue what sails being set wing to wing means.

I have the heart of somebody much better than a rock star, and she definitely has mine. That’s important, but, in a kind of hindsight way, my previous wife couldn’t sail or sing and for the life of me I can’t think of a song to sum it up except maybe — It’s so quiet in the ruins walking though the old town
Stones crumbling under my feet I see smoke for miles around
Oh it’s enough to make you weep, all that remains of the main street
Up in the park on Sunday, dogs chasing and the children played
Old man with his head down, can’t see nothing more around…no

O, I’m nodding off.