Pigstick and Longneck Johnny

Pigstick and Longneck Johnny

Pigstick and Longneck Johnny

Pigstick and Longneck Johnny

Rising above the confusion and noise, and giving him a sense of balance and comfort. Pigstick and Longneck Johnny, over and over. It was the mantra, the center of all his thoughts. Pigstick and Longneck Johnny. That was all there was for him. Everything he knew, and everything that mattered. Pigstick and Longneck Johnny. That’s all he had.

The summer was still steaming in the streets of the downtown, and his layers were probably not the best choice considering the 93 degrees that were ruling the thoughts and action of everybody else sharing this end of the universe, but the truth was that Pigstick and Longneck Johnny wasn’t about the weather. It wasn’t about hot and cold. It wasn’t about fashion, or what’s what on the street. It was about what was rolling on and on inside his head, and since that was the case, Pigstick and Longneck Johnny was what was happening in spite of everything else pushing in. There wasn’t no 93 degrees in this version of things. Nothing to dress or undress for. Nothing but Pigstick and Longneck Johnny all the way for this guy. No room for anything else.

“What’s the good word, Pete?” came the call to his ears, as a blast of meaningless gibberish rising briefly above the din.

“Pigshtick ‘n Loooongneck Johnny!” he burped with all his might, feeling the instant rush of relief just saying the words out loud gave him. It was like firing off a sneeze that had been building up and building up since the moment he woke up in the park. “Pigshtick and Loooongneck Johnny!!!” he yelled out once again, reveling in the pleasure of releasing his mind, even if for only a moment, of the grueling work of holding onto Pigstick and Longneck Johnny, and keeping it properly examined, nuanced, phrased, spelled and visualized, in that endless loop of dedicated purpose that had been assigned to him for as long as he could remember.

Pigstick and Longneck Johnny
Pigstick and Longneck Johnny
Pigstick and Longneck Johnny
Pigstick and Longneck Johnny

We walked on, as he continued to focus on Pigstick and Longneck Johnny. The world continued to drone on around him, a muddled fog of random images, smells and sounds. Foreign. Distant. Confused. Formless and disjointed…hopelessly momentary and inconsistent. He had Pigstick and Longneck Johnny. Pigstick and Looongneck Johnny. Pigstick ‘n Longneck Johnny. Pigstick and Longneck Johnny. It was endless and eternal. It was home and he was content.

“Hey Pete! What’s the word!”

“Pigshtick and Loooongneck Johnny!”

He smiled. It was turning out to be a good day.