Cigarette Machine

Today I was making some work for me since I'm counting on thousands of dollars rolling in from Bill Van gilders launch of my million seller book "Stuck in the Mud". I've been listening to the music of James McMurty and loving his words. He grew up hard and knows need and want. Powerful lyrics. I have listened to " We can't make it here anymore" a dozen times now. The name suggestion got me to thinking of my brother James and cigarette machines. I remember me and my buddies used to buy cigarettes from a machine when we were waaaaaaay under age. We would go under the culvert on the way home from school and put two ciggies in each hand and puff like we were cool. 4 at a time!!! The neighbours got my brother James smoking at age 8 and everyone thought it was funny. James was a 2 pack a day guy until he died at age 75. That ain't funny. I was the smart mouth kid and my brother James looked hard edged but had a tender heart. I had the quick mouth, he had the quick boots. Can't tell ya the number of times James came to the rescue of his smart mouthed little brother. Dad always said "watch out for the quiet ones, it is they that will ring your bell!" So true of my brother, James. Miss ya Bro! James never married and in fact really never had a woman. It wasn't cool back then to be tough and in the language of the day "a bachelor". Today when making work I thought of the past weekend at Ash and Barrel. I sold all of my platters that had marks. The only one I brought home had no marks. Scars and marks are maybe my narrative. Beautiful scars that I wear proudly. Hey James wish i could grill ya your favourite steak and mushrooms. Remember us skinny dipping at those mud cliffs and that man displayed his self to us. We ran for our bikes and skidaddled. Hard edged with a tender heart are

the pots I want to make.