The sodden page was wrapped around a dead branch above the rushing
waters.
When I managed the Mall tobacco shop in the early 70s I had hours everyday to read. I read everything from Plato to Playboy But even someone who loves reading gets tired of it day after day. So I started memorizing passages from Shakespeare. One was the Tomorrow speech that MacBeth recites when he learns that his wife has killed herself. The monologue is one of the great poems in literature. It says an incredible amount in a short space. I used a line for the gypsy scene. Later, a weary Poul tells Beasely “there is fate, faith and our hour upon the stage.” That came in the last revision. To me, it sums up our individual and collective lives. In the next revision of TPS I’m going to add two lines. * * * The Mall was full of great stories. The state police were constantly watching my store because we sold water pipes and bongs. Next door to The Pipe Den was a record store owned by the same company. We shared the same stock room in the back. Bernie, a 19-year-old musician, was constantly getting high in the back. I didn’t think much about it until I went out back for supplies one afternoon and a group of his friends sat in a circle rolling joints. Bernie held up one the size of a cigar. “Damon, how ‘bout a hit?” “Christ, I’ve got plain clothes police watching this place! Get that stuff out of here!” A few weeks later, the police raided Werden’s, a conservative men’s clothing store just up from us. A young sales clerk was using the place to sell dope and coke, hiding the stuff in the shirt boxes in the store room. The state police plainclothesmen had been watching The Pipe Den as a cover to keep an eye on the Werden’s traffic. They had no idea that beyond the humidor room sat a circle of guys rolling dope and smoking themselves silly outside the stockroom door. * * *
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