Behind Blue Eyes
Week Thirty-nine: Behind Blue Eyes …and if I swallow anything evil put your finger down my throat and if I shiver, please give me a blanket keep me warm, let me wear your coat —The Who, Behind Blue Eyes, from the album Who’s Next? On a warm Saturday in July I sat with our dog Leon on a bench provided for old guys or old guys with dogs while our granddaughter, her mother, and Gwaz searched the various buildings of the craft village we were visiting. From my vantage point I could see the tourists coming and going from one building to the other and between them to the petting zoo stocked mostly with goats. Strategically located near the entrance to the goat enclosures was a vending machine swallowing quarters in exchange for a handful of goat munchies. It was popular to say the least. I couldn’t help but notice one particular grandma who seemed to have an endless supply of quarters, of which she was more than willing to part. She called to her granddaughter who was intent on rushing pa