CHAPTER 28

I was in the vegetable section at the HEB Plus when I saw Chris Rivera fondling the avocados. If there had been a policeman patrolling the aisles, he could have been arrested.

"I'm excited," he said.

"I can tell," I replied.

"Oh this contraption," he laughed. "I'm just exercising my hands."

"When are you going to start exercising your hands in your more traditional style?"

"That's funny you should ask. I'm playing tomorrow at the Island."

"Where?"

"The Longboard Bar & Grill."

"That's a nice spot. I always enjoy the bayside. Are you part of Governor Abbott's pigeon in a cave experiment to determine if the Coronavirus remains contagious?"

"I'm a Democrat, bro. I would never do a Republican's bidding. Trump has ruined Republicans forever."

"Nobody has paid a higher price during this pandemic than musicians. Business goes bad and you guys are immediately out the door. You guys are lucky that your viejas don't base your relationships on the bottom line. You'd be downtown with the homeless. Are you not worried about social distancing? I will be anti-crowd for several months, maybe forever. I like quiet places."

"We're no different than mailmen. Neither Coronavius nor gonorrhea will keep us from our appointed rounds."

"In that case, will everyone be wearing masks with condoms in their wallets and purses?"

"We play our music. How the public chooses to play, that's their business."

"I'm glad you're back."

"I'm glad you're back. I hear there's going to be the Doc Scully/Delta Dave reunion show at Ben Neece's Spanish Moon next Saturday."

"It's tentative, but then life is tentative these days. Have a good time tomorrow."

"Thanks, bro."

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