"I've been busy," was all local pop star, Bohannon, had to say to this reporter - pernes tounia - as he dropped in to hand me the fresh pressings. It was an uncharacteristic dry spell and it had gone on a long time.
"These are your summer hits?" I asked. "Tuesday is August."
"Yeah, I get it," he shot back. "I told ya, I been busy!"
Bohannon dropped down into my orange vinyl couch like a halfback stuffed at the line of scrimmage. He was obviously tired. His hair unkempt, his clothes lived in for what appeared to be a week. His white t-shirt yellowed and specked with food and booze stains.
"You've also been eating, I see."
He fingered his shirt, pulling it out and letting it snap languidly back, not taking his eyes from mine. "Never mind my shirt," he said. "How come you ain't been writing nothing about me lately."
"How come you 'ain't' done nothing?"
This time he sounded deflated. "I been busy."
"Busy doing what?" I asked. "Brad Pitt's adopting African kids. Bono's saving the world. Mel Gibson's getting drunk and driving around in his SUV. What exactly have you been doing?"
The Bono reference stung. Bono hadn't been returning Bohannon's calls. I had heard that through my considerably long and fruitful grapevine. He drove his bare feet into the shag carpet.
"Writing," he said.
"Songs?"
"No, just writing ... about me."
"Bohannon on Bohannon?"
"Yeah! So? I figure I got to get it all down before something happens."
"Before what happens?"
"I don't know - I get hit by a bus, some crazed fan stops me on the street and says 'You're 'such a shit' before filling me with lead."
I smiled. "I knew Lennon and you're no Lennon."
He looked up at me. "I know good writers and you're a fucking hack!"
"Don't get testy. I was only kidding. Nothing's going to happen to you."
"You know that?"
"Calm down. What are these songs about?" I asked holding up the vinyl.
"Eating candy with fat girls and other girls that may or may not be fat."
"Interesting," I said. "Fat?"
"Would 'rubenesque' work better for you?"
"Good. Did you get that into your autobiography?"
Bohannon got up and turned to me "You're 'such a shit,'" he said, then formed his hand into a gun and pointed it to me. "Pop."
"Are they good?" I asked.
"I don't know any more," he said and turned to walk out but stopped and without turning toward me asked, "Can I borrow five bucks for a leber kase?"
Bohannon was not good. The songs however - 'charlemagne' and 'candy' - are very good. At least, according to this reviewer, pernes tounia.