Archive for February, 2009

Rain

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February 24th, 2009 Posted 8:59 am

It felt like rain for a while yesterday. Felt and smelled. The smell of rain about to fall: love it. But no rain came. It hardly ever rains here in the Valley, except when the monsoons come. When that happens I head right outside and race around at my craziest. Sometimes Bernie comes out, too. He doesn’t race around – running’s not the easiest thing for Bernie, on account of his wound – but just stands there, face turned up to the sky, getting soaked. His face looks so young then, and so much like Charlie’s. Charlie is Bernie’s kid, did I mention that? And the divorce? Leda, all that? Maybe I should go over that again. But I kind of wanted to go into Bernie’s worries about water, and something called the aquifer, and how I once tried to find it. All of a sudden I’m a little tired. Maybe time for a brief lie-down.

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Posted in Chet The Dog

Good Bernie, Bad Bernie

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February 23rd, 2009 Posted 8:21 am

I missed most of Bernie’s speech at the detectives convention on account of sudden sleepiness – I’m sure you know how that is – but I’d already caught most of it when he was practicing on the way up to Vegas. It was all about this other guy named Bernie, kind of confusing at first, until I realized this other Bernie was a perp. Were we on his trail? Was this going to end with me grabbing him by the pantleg? Bernie Madoff – that was his name. Bernie – my Bernie – said you could tell a lot about a certain type of criminal mind from the smirk on Bernie Madoff’s face the day he was on the loose on Lexington Avenue. Some perps, he said, think they’re the smartest dude on the planet, and that’s their weakness. Lexington Avenue: never heard of it, but I’ll be on the lookout now that we’re back home in the Valley. Message to Bernie Madoff: watch out. My Bernie is always the smartest guy in the room.

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Vegas 2

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February 22nd, 2009 Posted 9:00 am

Bernie gave his speech at the detectives convention last night. Not much makes Bernie nervous – Suzie, sometimes. And definitely making speeches. Was he sweating or what? Human sweat: a huge topic, maybe for some other time. For now, let’s just say you can tell a lot about how people are feeling moment to moment from the smell of their sweat, and poor Bernie was feeling pretty close to panic. I thought the actual speech went very well. When I woke up, everyone was clapping. Then came drinks at the bar, possibly one too many for Bernie. He’s still asleep but I’ll have to pull the covers off him soon. My back teeth are floating.

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Vegas

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February 21st, 2009 Posted 10:05 am

Right now we’re on the way to Vegas, Bernie behind the wheel, me riding shotgun. Is there anything better than riding shotgun in the Porsche? A real old Porsche, by the way. Sometimes we get some bad noises and lots of smoke, and then Bernie takes out the tools and pops the hood. Nothing good ever happens after that. How come we’re going to Vegas? Bernie has to speak at a detectives convention. He told them no lots of times but they kept twisting his arm. That’s what he told Suzie – “They twisted my arm.” But when? Not when I was around. Anyone trying to twist Bernie’s arm would have to get past me first. Anyway, he’s very nervous. He keeps going over the speech out loud. I don’t understand it at all, but the desert breeze blowing all around me feels great. And what’s that up ahead? A roadrunner?

“Hey,  Chet – easy, boy.”

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Posted in Chet The Dog

The Books



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