There's a guitar player in the neighborhood who plays a fuzz-tone guitar. I call him the Wizard. He usually plays on weekends. I'll hear him playing in the distance, rock classics mostly. Pink Floyd's Shine On You Crazy Diamond, War Pigs, a bit of Creedence. It soothes me to hear him play. It's his tone that makes me smile. It's positively cliche, and that's brilliant to me.
There's no telling when the Wizard's going to play next. He tends to play in the afternoon, or just before sundown. I heard him play at eight-thirty in the morning once. He wasn't shy about the volume either. No matter, he's the Wizard. He can play as loud as he wants, whenever he wants. Nobody's going to complain. No one ever complains. It's a Mexican neighborhood.
There's no telling when the Wizard's going to play next. He tends to play in the afternoon, or just before sundown. I heard him play at eight-thirty in the morning once. He wasn't shy about the volume either. No matter, he's the Wizard. He can play as loud as he wants, whenever he wants. Nobody's going to complain. No one ever complains. It's a Mexican neighborhood.
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