I bought that TV at John's TVon College Avenue in San Diegoand lugged it all the way homeon the Greyhound bus.
Sitting in Phoenix bus depotwaiting room, TV sitting on my lap,I felt foolish as I watcheddepot officials grab an old manderelict as he searched dazedlyinto an open locker compartment.They pushed him reeling outinto deadly stunning American city.At 12:30 A.M., there wasn't anything else on,just that already too late, late channel.
I had known that I would be coming homebut the TV-in-hand bitwas an entirely new angle, and I thinkthat it must have to do with an odd madness.
