Hi, my name is Danny, but you can call me Dan. First of all, I'd like to thank Grunt for letting come on his blog and share with you a bit of my world. I want to tell you about a man that has been a big part of my rehabilitation into normal life. It was not long ago that I was a virtual shut in, only making short trips to the pet store or library. It was my time in isolation that I wrote three short stories profiling the lives of my miniature poodles: Muffin, Trixie, and Steel. Boy, the adventures that those three got up too. Heh, but that will be for another time, perhaps.
Some would look at my life and see a troubled soul. Others would dismiss me and think of me as some kind of crazy dreamer or sweet imbacile, heh. I was a lonely and lost boy in search of my manhood. A man named Destry James Mistledik happened upon me when I was going through a creative phase of darning cheese cloth and collecting shoe laces. He worked for a major distributor of cheese cloth and was coming to check in on one of their better clients. It was in these business meetings that D.J. proceeded to mold me into the man I am today.
I can remember it like it was yesterday. D.J told me the reason I was so toubled was that I had no voice. "A man has to have a voice", he said. It's funny because he was wearing a dress when he said that. He pointed to my grandmother's autoharp and showed me how to make chords and play rhythym. I thought it was odd that he said we had to be undressed and in the bathtub when we had our lessons, but he had this way of making me feel like everything was all right. Partly, because he had this booming voice that penetrated me to the core. The other thing that I remember most about D.J. were the bareback rides together on his wonder horse, Tony. It was in these "lessons" that D.J. taught me what kind of man I really was. I wrote a song about it. It's in the key of G. It's called "Destry, I want to wear you like a sock".
Destry, you came when I needed you.
Destry, I absolutely love your hats.
Destry, there's someone knocking at your door...
It's me. Let me in. Destry.
Would you think it crazy if I said
That you were made for me and my head?
Destry, I want to wear you like a sock.
Destry, can I wear you like a sock?
Destry, I just like saying your name.
Destry, I enjoy the tricky way you ride Tony.
Destry, you've got a message coming in...
It's me. Transmitting. Destry.
(Key change to C)
Nobody said that I could love, or satisfy a man.
And I never would have guessed that my legs could bend like that.
But when I see you bring Tony to a gallop, it makes me start...
(V3; Key of G)
Destry, I can see our name up in the stars.
Destry, you no longer have to frequent all those clubs.
Destry, I can take care of your needs.
Destry, there's a puzzle piece missing...
It's me. Join me. Destry.
(Chorus x 2)
Well, I hope you liked my song, heh. D.J. passed away last December in a horrible accident. He was run over with an Elgin street sweeper. The public works employee stated that he was distracted by an unusually ornate Christmas tree, and he jumped the curb while Destry was dazzling some young men with his "magic rope" trick. I was hoping it would have been me instead of him, or that I was the last man to hear him cheerfully say, "Tug harder or the glitter won't come out." He was so flashy. I put up a picture of Roy Rogers because that's who Destry said he wanted to be like the most. Personally, he looked more like a cross between Gene Autry and Gary Cooper to me, heh. This post is for you Destry. I hope you are teaching lessons and pulling tricks on your horse in heaven.
4 years ago