Fifty years already?  No way.

  A car pulled up.  Mine was booted.  Guys.  (i)Great(i).  One notoriously snobbish.  He threw the CD out the window at me.  "Achtung baby," he said like a toast. 

  "What does it mean?" 

  "Give it a listen.  When you get out of the gutter." 

  Of course they drove off with the traffic. 

  "Not (i)in the gutter(i) just because I'm not (i)on point(i)." 

  "Don't drift too far away.  I want to show you the books." 

  Somehow the perfect capsule of emotions in the music.  My age?  Or that thing that some can do?  Like we're all stuck, or all trepidatious about some general consciousness thing, or we just don't know (anything really)...but somebody, some artist, some writer, some intellect, some spiritual person (i)does something(i). 

  Transmissions.