Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "Last Train to Yuma."

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "Last Train to Yuma."


(dedicato: Bella Connie, Cafe REWIND, Modica-Sicily)


I BLEW UP my Cell-phone. Must'a bin when I dropped it in the Beef-Bougy-thingy con Vino Rossi (supplied by DECO super-mercato/size of an Amish kiosk), comes in a box, one litre, and pretty good Mouthwash, picture of succulent grapes on da box?.... But, ALAS, my Life is "tutte-fricked"; No phone, No Life! Guilia can't call me; I can't call Guilia, which MAY - and in hindsight - was/became downright righteous...a good thing? And those American Kids flying into Catania-Sicily, 100K from my toilet - expecting me to hapharzardly greet? - will just have to swallow their "lumps" and get the airport AERO-BUS to find me sacked out with Miss Fi-Fi (my neighbor), totally lamenting my tardiness?... WHOA! Whoa! That JOB/work-thingy/s'posed to show up, Monday?... Alas; how could I arrive without NOT knowing Work/starting time? 9 a.m.? Eleven, maybe? HIGH NOON? The last train to Yuma? And, maybe, after-all, it was a Night-shift? -STUFF, incidentally, ya need to know? But WITHOUT a Cell phone? And what about EXPENSES!? -Who's gonna pay for this NON-exist ant call? Donald - frickin' - Trump!?

"Momma? I killed mah Cell-phone! Think I'll stay in BED!"
"OK, Honey-Child."

YO! U betcha! It's God damn Late! But always SURE to arrive?... (Kiss me I'm IRISH) ...That last train to Yuma.




c2016/davedelacroix/wanna be Michael J Cannel? Wanna BE? -Then just DO it...:)