year end 2007

Oy fucking vey. Has this year been Mr. Toad's Wild Ride or what? More "or what" than anything else. From leaving L.A. - wasn't that home? Hadn't I paid hundreds of thousands for what? No Equity of any kind? whatever. -- to arriving in Shingle Springs and living all double-wide with Steve and Mike... then... coming to the East Coast with high hopes and....

Arriving with high hopes. Staying with sister Charlotte and her husband Tom - offers of houses on Martha's Vineyard and Provincetown (am I repeating myself?) but giving it up for the chance of work with Badger Balm in Gilsum, NH -- NOW, I KNOW that I'm repeating myself, because if I haven't chirped about this here already, I must be dead.

I lived in bucolic rural Gilsum. I painted daily like my life depended on it. Well... it did. My rusty hinges of loosely hinged sanity.

"But there ain't no Sanity Claus." Thank you; now we know.

Split-second timing and the involvement of busy friends and not-so potential employers, I arrive in Bedford at Chez Schwerin - home of Peg Schwerin, home of her brood and her recently deceased husband, Charlie.

Having that same moniker (Merrimac?) gives a certain jeannie sasquatch to all this, as the French would say. Answering the phone as myself using my own name -- a voice of Charlie gives rise to some. Oh well. I doubt he'd answer the phone if alive.

As it is right now, the house has cleared after a few days of family doing that holiday thing. On Christmas day, I was with Charlotte's brood and all that at her daugfhter Lori's abode. First time with them since 1975. 32 years.

It will be at least that before I do it again. Seriously.

Tomorrow, New Years Eve, I have volunteered to work at the Hynes Auditorium for this occasion - a first time First Night for me. I got the 4-9 there. I will leave and proceed to partay wherever the party leads me.

I will spend the night/morning and (thanks to you, public transportation!) the next day too. That'll be fun. I spent Xmas eve there and we watched V for Vendetta. Me likey lots. Then Auntie Mame, yet again; one of those standard holiday movies for me.

It looks like snow. We've had our share already so far this year. Slippery icy nastiness. It's like Heaven. Just a wee little bit... if at all.

Sundays and the special flavor that they have

Since childhood. Late afternoon Sundays have this certain laziness and lost time feel to me.

Good time for a matinee. A nap. A tea dance and a drink. A bump. Something without commitment or bother.

Gray day. Snow due, maybe slush storm. Went to Boston for what was supposedly an hour trip; ended up, by fate, spending the whole day running around getting things done. I liked it. Downtown has that certain thing much like this feel for Sunday afternoons. But so much has changed. Not me.

Sure.

Got a hangnail type of calloused skin off of my middle right finger last week. It got some totally debilitating infection that made me ill for several days. What is this? Looks like gangrene, as it travels down the side of my throbbing blue-black finger. It's still there a week later. Ow and scary. This failure of an aging body sucks. Shall I testify?

No, we'd prefer you keep it to yourself. Please.

Life does go on.

tick tick tick

Last month of 2007

Holidays.

Sisters.

Things.

Me.

Combine and watch, wait, stand back and.

Here at Chez Schwerin, Casa Peg, all is going as to be expected. Daughter Sarah arrives soon, maybe while I do this here now. Sarah was the lucky first person to sit next to me when I first came to Bedford and attended public schools - Third Grade - Wilma Gennetti's class - Wilma lived just down the road here on Hillside. Yeah, so? Just sayin'. There's a gazillion Gennettis in this town. A district/neighborhood is entitled Gennetti Circle.

Speaking of, due to the heat being pumped up late last night, the dreams were fever pitch weird - and I incorporated Sandi Silva - a schoolmate of 'ours' from Bedford days of yore, and a dear friend - into a dream. She was entering the arena which I had just left, where some sort of near Public Access type of community theater (NO) dealio had me involved in some film production that got increasingly more bizarre and sexual as the production continued. I was given speaking lines, which addled me, as I forgot them and was concerned that this was all becoming much more than anticipated, plus, big plus, was I going to be compensated for this added dialogue.

But, there was Sandi, me holding and hugging her as she went down the steep ladder stairs into this realm to = what? I have no clue, but bid my farewells, I as was done and doner by whate'er had transpired before all of this.

Dream On!

The heat came on in a blast - this after discussions with the neighboring unit (that is fashioned out of the whole of this house) that has domain on the thermostat. The steam was whistling as it got thrown into hyper drive some time after 11. The first time heat arrived in my upstairs room; so much so that I was duly uncomfortable. And Peg had nightmares from this also.

Was this not the focus of discussion just yesterday - the enormity of the bills for fuel? DUH.

I wonder if sister Mary, visiting from Boulder Creek California will make contact. I have initiated such since her arrival a week ago last Wednesday. Whatever. We did a lunch at the Colonial Inn in Concord and a drive around the bordering towns - as far as Framingham and other places seemingly so distant but not.

La di da.

Sundays. SO evocative unto themselves. Flavor. Roast beefs... company... the cast of characters from the past... Mary Rod, after organ work at the church .... cards being played with any number of Down Easties visitng and drinking. As kids, we eventually got the neighboring kids banned by their parents from playing cards with us Sinclairs - we would take them to the penny ante cleaners, we would.

Ah, so long ago.

Mid November words

Aloha. IS that the word? No.
This morning I have spent near 3 hours working with this new laptop - not a Dell, Dude, but an HP - watching it do some songs and dances that get so close and then throw itself back into No Mode at all. Frustrating to a dither and a faretheewell - arrrrrrrrrrrr.
What's news?
Charlotte goes in in a week, the 20th, for her operation - I am sure I elaborated on what occurred last venture to MGH - a no go. I have nothing to offer on this but that she is being put through the mill, physically, emotianally and - damn them! - financially. Her benefits have gotten fucked up time and time again, with only her intervention getting anything accomplished. What on Earth happens to those that aren't able to follow up or ask the right person the right questions? Oh, I think I know first-hand. Damn. If you do, or if you don't.
It's been getting definitely colder daily - some as low as the bottom 20s. Brrrr. The cat's dish here outside had ice on it the otehr morning , or so it appeared. Here, kitty.
Insects are done for the year with this weather. Yay! For that alone I will out up with some cooler clime, although insects per se in LA were a minor inconvenience, if at all. FLeas could have at it, but -
Anyhow, next week is Thanksgiving, thus beginning the onslaught of holiday madness. Charlotte is planning dinner on Sunday for the masses, as she will be in MGH and not feeling much like doing anything but press the buttons for more meds.
Marshall arrives this next week too? Who knows. He cancels as quick as.... he can. Expect anything and nothing.
Voila.
Voir Dire.
"Your Honor, I object." Whatever.
Sustain.
Maintain.
Proceed.

whatever Mary

Nearing the end of October

Let's test and see just how psychotic we might be... stare into my eyes... arfe the pictures spinning?

"Yes."

You are crazy. Surpise.

Boy, Howdy. In a week, it'll be Halloween.

Have I let you know my felings towards this non-holiday?

I HATE IT.

Four years of working on Castro Street in San Franscisco in the late 70s galvanized this take on that - it got uglier and more mean spirited yearly. Yes, I hate the day, yet as a kid, I practically lived for it, planning sometimes months in advance. with numerous trips to Boston to get the best grease paint and whatnot to insure a winning (although never in a costume competition until much later in life, like 1991 0 and winning, thank you, the First FUCK! Hallowenn Bizarre Party in L.A.) costume. whew. But oh how I loved it. Candy. Free candy. Gimme.

Steve Lipofsky and I were transfixed with it all for some time. I have a creepy idea that we went door-to-door until high school age, preoceeding to get one neighbor's door slammed in our faces for being "too old." Well.

And most of Southern California is burnt to a smokey crisp. I am glad to not be there, sad to not be there, Not There. Period. Burnt. To a crisp.

Look; it's my sister Charlotte, on Crane's Beach!

Looking good. Last gasp day on the sands with sister Mary, who took this pic. Had not been at Crane's since high school days.


My Blog keeps coming out in Hindi. Give me a break.
Bongiddy bongiiddy bongiddy bong

not fun
and it's set on "English" - this is a drag supreme.
oh well....

Maybe not now, I just discovered the key ingredient in this stew. In the header toolbar "Type here for Hindi" No thank you. Ye gads.


So, Vishnu with you?


We are dealing with Charlotte's not-so-fun cancer. She was in MGH lst week for the long-awaitied operation, went into the OR, got knocked out, intubated - full tilt, all systems go, and they did a laryngoscopic look at the good lung - bronchial problem.


She was awakened into a world of No, It Didn't Happen. I can't imagine.


Meds for the bronchitis or whatever. And some kind of linger. Wait to wait. And all this after so much time wondering, like that is ever going to stop. Ten days of meds. SHe is halfway through that now. Then more consultations and...


This weekend, I am going to Bill Schuellein's weekend ski property in Bethel, Maine, I guess close to the White Mountains of NH. Should be fun. This house there comes with a strange tale of mass murder of his foirmer tenant and her mother, something Bill missed out on (with Per also) by mere minutes and good timing. Not so for Mom and daughter. Weird. and Too Real.


That's it for today. Fall has decided to appear - all the leaves are brown and the sky is gray. Truly.

http://youtube।com/watch?v=1ATzOb2vplo&mode=related&search=

'नुफ सैद

Oh dig - a lovely afternoon shot in downtown Ipswich, after a day at Crane Beach with sisters Mary and Charlotte. Nice shot, Mary - thanks.

Well, howdya like them apples? Logged in a huge bunch of stuff and it is gone.

Oh well.

Stories of where we've been and what's coming down the pike.

Gilsum, NH - a memory, although I am writing this from the Schwerin home in Bedford. Peg has gone to Wash. state with Joey after one funeral - her husband, Charlie - and the weddings of two granddaughters: Emily and Rebecca.

It is all so odd for me. I sleep in the footprint of Charlie Schwerin, where he passed.

Funny - oh HA - my brother-in-law Tommy told me that this house was haunted. He played here as a kid before the Schwerins moved in; the McDowell family home. I relayed that info to Peg and Joey - Joey reitterating that she felt cheated never having experienced such in her time here. Whatever.

Ah, Bedford. Yipes.

Dealing with Charlotte and her mortality at hand. She hasn't gotten the answers that she expected to have by now. Last Friday I went with her to MGH for the last bunch of PETscans and whatnot... no answers, but, a phone call returned yesterday by the surgeon. Nothing came of it and she remains in a Limbo of sorts. It is not an easy place to be for her.

We, Charlotte and I, drove to Maine on Tuesday; Ogunquit. What is this place like in the height of the summer season? It was really busy on a late September afternoon, but the temps were in the high 80s and 90s - not very autumnal at all. I have this idea from all of this that winter will be a breeze. Uh huh.

Shoes are the issue. Can't wear them but for damaging my delicate footsies. Am I serious? Indeed. Putting my big boots on is not fun after a trop around - swollen old man feet.

But, my issues are minor.

Went for a job interview at Pine Street Inn. Dare I say anything of what I know of the founder and patron saint of this place, Paul Sullivan? Nah. But the dear man died on his way out to SF to visit after relinguishing his reign there. Will I get the job? We await furthers.
We seem to do this alot lately. I'm too old for this nonsense. Deliver and be quick!

Uh huh.

Zippedy do dah, DaddyO

been more than a while

While away the hours, days, months.

What a long strange trip it has been... New Hampshire (Gilsum, birthplace of Mormon Jos. Smith's mother - that should say something as to) with the not-very-forthcoming cooking position at Badger Balm, all the while living on the Badger owner's property in a cabin at $550 a month.

Now I am in Bedford, Mass, birthplace of... not me, anyhow, although I did attend public school here for a good part (or a part) of my life. Dig this irony: I am in the home of the one half of Badger's mother, one of my favorite homes here in town. Peg Schwerin, the mom, is off to Washington state to be with daughter Joey after dealing with the passing of her husband Charlie (I am sleeping in the exact footprint of where he lay and died) and myriad weddings of granddaughters, both of which are Badger offspring - three wedding for one daughter (two in rapid fire in Provincetown, of which I attended one - more on that at some point - and one earlier for the other daughter, held in Roxbury, NH in a truly gorgeous old New England farm.

So here I am.

Sister Charlotte is dealing with her mortality that is a clicking clock or clicking time bomb, depending on the mechanism at play. Not good. Last Friday I accompanied her to MGH for her last round of Petscans and radiological whatsits, all supposedly leading to decisions being made as to what the next step might be - removal of her right lung being the one expected? She is nervous as one can be expected to be with this looming overhead. It's exasperating and draining.

This week we went, the two of us, on a ride to Ogunquit, Maine, for the day. What on Earth is this place like at high season? Late Septmeber and a Tuesday - busy busy busy. The temps have been very high 80s and 90s - not terribly autumnal, but leading me into some mindset that winter ain't the harsh reality that it really will be.

Shoes? I don't do shoes anymore.

Just got a laptop from her set up here.Viable cable feed that has been unused since... since.

Ta fucking Da!

How Long?

Been a while. How Long?
Too much to relate, but I will condense and do what I can.

Castles in the sand

Son of a Beach!

a

ta da?

Hairspray (III) last night

Saw it - liked it. No living entity can do Divine justice though.

Race was key in this one.

A Sale? Wheeee!

We get an email from dear Wakefield and he likes and wants to purchase one of (both? Nah)these two older pieces. G0tta love his taste!
We quote (or cut and paste.. whatever) :


"wakefieldpoole@aol.com"
Glad to hear what going on in your life. I looked at the Yahoo site, loved so many, I especially like the series of boxes. What's the deal? Are the photos or the original works for sale or just a record of your work? Whatever, you are very gifted! I love the sense of color in the box series again. I loved sscn1491 and sscn 1277. I'd be very interested in buying either one. I didn't see any prices. Give me some information, Your life sounds good there. Interesting that Beverley is also in the woods. Me, in a condo by the river in red neck heaven, is about as rural as I want to be. I really am a city boy thru and thru. Stay good!Wake


So, life is always a surprise, yes? No! Yes! No?
Oui.

But this system or whatever won't allow these images to download? But I just put one in the above musings - what's the dealio? Hmmm, Round 3 begins. I thought after the success with that Archie comics thing that I would be able to do this.
Drat!
And I SO want to save these images. Dang.

And the third time - no, make that the fourth - is the charmer.

Ta da!

Shroud shot

Apropos, considering.... Shrouds. I detect a theme here.

blah blah blah

Saving soon-to-be-lost Yahoo archives, we do this and then some more....

I was teaching English grammar in a college (Acad of Steno Arts) in SF when this was taken - I look like a roadie for the Dead or anything but a teacher.

and So?

Because I can Part II

So?

Death

Yes - Death is not on holiday... Yeesh, would it cease and let me at least catch my breath?
Last month was death-watch central with Charlie Schwerin's passing and me being so close to that epicenter by propinquity, me being in Gilsum, NH at Katie Schwerin's property.
Then, Sister Charlotte drops the bomb of her having her right lung removed in just days.. huh wha! Another look by docs tell her that "No, too close to an aorta" or something, and if they open her to remove said lung and find the situation to be what they expect, they'll close her back up and she will not be able to even to chemo or radiation for two months of healing time from all that, thus no nothing available.
So, she's doing that course now.
Sunday, July 15, my Uncle Stephen Tobin passed away.
I go to Boston and Bedford and Watertown tomorrow for the wake and then Friday for the funeral.
He is the last uncle I have.
It just don't let up.
Like the rains here in Gilsum, which have been relentless, to say nothing as to the many electrical storms accompanying nearly each one that blows through here. One of a magnitude that awakened me to be completely awestruck by continuous flashes of peripheral lightinig, with the occasional strike, resulting in thunder applauding the act.
Summer 2007.
Someone tell me it's all good, please.

Because I can

Is there ever a better reason for doing anything?
Nope, not that I can think of right off hand, so let me present...
The Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band. Brilliance - and a pinch of Beatles!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Omc9lkSjYjc

Que Dia

Oy and then some.

But first - let's have a look-see at that lovely Unitarian Church in Bedford that Charlie was so much involved with - and wife Peg was the organist! Wish I had interior shots - a lovely speciment if ever there was.
Have received word that Charlie Schwerin has passed this morning at aroubnd 5 AM. Rest easy, my friend.
My sister Charlotte begins her chemotherapy for an inoperable tumor in her left lung today too - she's happy with her doc and all that comes with this decision, I guess. This will be a week-long endurance run for her at Emerson Hospital in Concord, Mass., sa she is getting blasted every day for a week. Her doctor says they'll get it. We like that attitude.

The decision was made on the possibility of opening her and finding that this tumor is too close to an aorta, which would result in closing her back up and then, due to the healing time involved, not be able to to any chemotherapy for two months.
Start the chemo.
My friend Gene goes in today for an ablazion on his kidney, this instead of letting them remove it and the tumor (enough tumor info - enough), with that resulting in a life dedicated to dialysis. He opted out of that, so, stick a needle in and blast the fucking thing to a crisp. Go Girl!
Emily, Katie's daughter (2nd of 3 daughters - NeuMia and Rebecca being the others) called and confirmed Charlie's passing - which had gotten reported openly and widely last Thursday to the Badger Balm crews - Not SO. Hit and miss. Grieve. Cease. Now, grieve. Yikes.
In an hour or so we, Emily and her soon-to-be husband, Mike, and I, will make the haj to Bedford for observances and whatever comes with this new territory.
What a day. I must read a good horoscope and see what the stars are saying.
And it ain't over yet.

Add this to the mix -- I picked up the phone simply becasue (I normally let whatever service employed get the message) and it is old buddy Bill Schuellein, on cell from the 95 near somewhere in Rhode Island. He's on his way to pick up a 1000 cc bike in Brooklyn and asked if I would like to go riding in his neck of the woods sometime soon.

I can do that.

Rebecca's beau purchased an old 200 cc bike this weekend for $300 - how could anyone say no to that? My first ride sans helmet on the east coast in many many moons and my first ride sans helmet since the California law went into effect around 1992. I don't like helmets. At high speed riding on endurance runs, absolutely. Bugs being the main criteria for that choice. I got several in my uncovered eyes in the short ride here Saturday.

Let's go get ready for today.

make it look nice.

the Archives

from the late sixties - this is whom I am with in Gilsum, New Hampshire. K. Schwerin.

Aye chihuahua!

Whew -- and I do mean Whew....
Friday - yesterday, June 8, I drove katie to witness the passing state of her dad, Charlie Schwerin. Along the way, we stop for my very first accunpuncture appointment ever.
Full plates are being served.
After this and arriving at 18 Hillside and dealing with that family and what is happening there -- do let me say that all seemed rather relaxed with his Atavan'd state of being -- gently sitting in bed with hands folded on his head - Dave Brubeck playing in the background -- I leave to go to dinner with my sister Charlotte.
Within a few moments of arrival on Carlisle Road, I get the bomb dropped. She is having one of her lungs removed next week - cancer. Okay. I had an idea that something was up with the trips to Emerson Hospital and whatever this all was leading to - with her husband getting the news for the first time just a little while ago also. I guess he and her children are flattened by this. Well, me too.
Next Thursday, her youngest grandson, Lori's boy, Mason, gets operated on too for some unkown growth on his chin.
It just keeps getting better.
Uh huh.
Today is graduation for the Waldorf 8th grade class of Katie's. I have been asked to be there at 3. I drove back to Gilsum last night alone in K & Bill's Subaru. Alone. Spinning in my own centrifugal chamber, spiral thought and holding the steering wheel - windows down for some cold air to keep me awake and refreshed.
I am here this morning alone. Writing some letters, getting rid of some baggage.
It is raining.

work work work

I feel the need, the need for PAINTING!
It'll happen. Yes? Yes! Soon? Yes! When? Dunno....
Work is being done on the cabin. Refridge - now 2 of them there -- all sorts of woody issues, thus, carpentry abounds.
In the meantime, katie's school and graduating 8th graders have been THE folcal point since I arrived, aside from her eye problem, which morphs into some kind of hormonal weirdness on occasion - not fun. I am sure it's a merry-go-round for her to be on, with or without the steroidal complexities adding to the mix.
I cooked lunch for the kids here at home on Wednesday - yesterday. Cacophony as they arrive, but that is the world of young teens. Wheeee. Cute kids - two of the boys came in and introduced themselves and thanked me personally for being helpful with papers and the like since I arrived on scene. Nice to get that. Kids - always a surprise, huh? Indeed.
More coming with great finality this Friday - tomorrow. I may be getting Peg Schwerin from Bedford out her for the graduation excercises - who knows.
I am doing my best to remain supple and bend with the winds of change.
Blow me.
Really - this could be fun.

First of June w/ Blue Moon thrown in for fun

Let's have some fun with Buddha.

What fun? What fun!
Really.
So it appears that I am not the chosen one for maiking lunches at Badger. Life goes on.
I await the cabin o'er there -- I can just about make it ouit through the brush and trees. It gets scrubbed this weekend and then - inhabitation. Then what?
I hate to say money is an issue, but 'tis. Without transportaion, what am I going to do?
And what with these bugs, especially the lovely and voracious No Seeums? Nasty.
Major Caterpillar construction stuff goes on within feet of me here, as road gets gone over and a field gets opened for crops for the first time in its history, I presume. A little late for planting most things, but....
Friday. June 1. 2007. Numbers and dates. Flip the calendar.
Can I wait much longer to finally take my clothes - my very only possessions - and place them someplace that is better than a suitcase, their home for the last three months? It's been a weird road, but I know it well.
Let me take you with me as I travel from Boston to Gilsum last Sunday night, with an electric rainstorm going full tilt - lost and proceeding into Vermont - Brattleboro. Again, gone too far. The roads were misamatic with ghostly fogs rising no more than a few feet above the roads - eerie and scary, as driving was bad enough on new terrain for me. After many hours, I made it back here -- all the while driving, I felt as if I was coming to where I belonged. Yes, A sense of "home" prevailed.
I hope and pray that it does do just that.
This week I got to enjoy the year-long works of K's students, if that was indeed a year's worth of work presented. I must have been the odd character at this event, as all seemed to be parents and the kids themselves, along with some teachers. It was enchanting.
Fog again this AM - cleared now and it looked like some high temps on my Yahoo page for Gilsum.
We'll see. Summer is not far away.

Is there Balm in Gilead?

Oh, I don't fucking believe this computer.
Too often now it has lost all of my written words - today taking an entire huge Blog's worth of everything done since leaving California.
Gad-fucking-zooks --- Enough already. SHIT!
In a nutshell -- I am in Gilsum.
K and B returned from Ecuador - Katie with some horrid eye infection that has them today gone to Dartmouth to see a specialist.
I cooked my first totally solo lunch at Badger - quesadillas. A hit! I watched in horror last week as many of the stuffed peppers I worked so hard making got tossed into the compost. Ugh.
Mother's Day in Boston with Charlotte, hours after arrival on Alaska, whom lost a huge piece of luggage, which eventually got returned.
My new hat; a gift for finding the cell phone of a Carlisle Fireman, while driving around one Saturday with Kim Lenz. A lovely CFD baseball hat.
A trip, alone, to see Un Chant D'Amor by Jean Genet (last seen by me in Boston in 1974) at the MFA.
My going to see Grindhouse at the Capitol Theater in Arlington - first time there in over a half century - I was a student at St. Agnes in Arlington then.
Finding Berry Berenson's name on a memorial within the Public Gardens - 9/11 Massachusetts's victims. Berry was on the first plane to hit the WTC. She was a lovely human being and certainly one of the nicest persons to ever walk through the door of Red Devil Tattoo.
Tapas at the Vendome with Charlotte, her son Tim (my nephew) and his girlfriend, Melissa. I had never had tapas before - go figure - and this was my suggested locale, after a walk up Newbury Street on Mo's Day.
The DeCordova Museum. The Emerson Umbrella, with Kim, whom is associated with the place and showing currently with a group show there.
Pi Alley for the first time, and being treated very nicely by Bob - whom we discover later through Gene is an old friend form 1270 days. Had we only known!
I am in Gilsum, working badger balm.
My choice of a cabin here awaits work that is being done now as I sit typing.
I fear losing more material again, so I am going to post this and do more later.
My back is killing me.
Oh - and I got my medication last week delivered - and my BP is still over 200. Is this MY normal? It bothers me.
Whatever.
Do remind to share the tale of driving back alone here Sunday night. Yeesh, lost but good. Fun!

Griffith Park Ablaze

Hmmm. I do miss the idea of seeing all of this from the immediacy of my deck on Griffith park Boulevard, but what with L.A. again getting the Numero Uno bad air qualification for the US - nah, don't miss it. Can't even begin to imagine how dreadful the air quality must be as a result of this, the second fire in the past few weeks or so. I do feel short-changed that I never got into the refurbished Observatory. What a mess they made of what once was my absolute favorite place in all of that megalopolis. Sad. Over.
Remember it the way it was.

Flame on, Los Angeles.


Would I feel cheated if I miss out on The Big One? I'm talking earthquake here, not fire. Only in the most abstract of ways, kiddo.


Three days of no water, and gunfire will fill the air!


Who needs Disneyland?

Invasion!

Well? Hey, Donald.

DUCK!

That's a joke.

Of course I remember Freddie. Oddly though, I do not know, except by name, Mssr. Blasidell.

And you eradicated two messages left down in here somewhere.

How the fuck did you ever find this? That amazes me. You are one of three persons to have been here, and only one of them did I give the access to.

What a pleasant surprise.

Sometimes I really really miss L.A.

Like this, taken from this week's LA Weekly - and featuring my former neighbor, Gwen, who brought to me so much of Syd's music when he died.... and.... Oh well. But do read!

Live in L.A.

Spotlight On a Crazy Diamond
Syd Barrett Tribute Night at Bordello
By CAROLINE RYDER
Tuesday, April 24, 2007 - 6:00 pm
Syd Barrett Tribute Night at Bordello, April 19It was Syd Barrett Tribute Night, and I have never seen so much facial hair in my life. Long, short, combed and scraggly — all the beards of Los Angeles were gathered in their hirsute splendor at Bordello, where 21 local bands reinterpreted the songs of Pink Floyd visionary Syd Barrett, one psychedelic masterpiece at a time.Scott Sterling, promoter behind the extravaganza, was nervous before the show. As was often the case with Barrett, who inspired Pink Floyd’s bittersweet paean “Shine On You Crazy Diamond,” there was no telling whether the night would turn out as genius or train wreck. There were moments of both, although the only letdown came near the end, courtesy of Yes Me to Death, whose neo-riot-grrrl hard-ons wilted in dramatic fashion when they tried winging it through one of Barrett’s typically Byzantine arrangements. Most other acts fared better; early highlights came care of chanteuse Eleni Mandell (“Feel”), tot-rocker Gwendolyn (“The Gnome”) and crystalware guru Douglas Lee, who performed “Chapter 24” using nothing but a set tuned of wine glasses.None of the bands spent much time sermonizing about Barrett, preferring instead to launch straight into their various adaptations. Glammy white-panted rocker Kennedy was the biggest chatterbox (he inexplicably dedicated his song to Adam Ant), but his onstage swagger veered a little too comfortably toward parody for some die-hard Barrett fans — people like Mike Davis, a Malcolm McLaren lookalike with a polka-dotted silk scarf around his neck. “Syd Barrett was the perfect combination of pop-music sensibility and bohemian unconventionality, more so than the Beatles,” he said. Barrett died last year from liver failure, having lived the majority of his adult life as a recluse. Some blamed his early mental decline on excessive acid consumption; others say the drugs probably triggered a pre-existing schizophrenic condition. “People love him because he never played the rock-star game,” said Davis. “He said what he had to say, and then he wasted away.”The bands picked songs from three principal Barrett albums — his finest, Pink Floyd’s first album, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn (1967); and the later solo albums The Madcap Laughs and Barrett (both 1970). The Moon Upstairs brought a classic rocker vibe to “Matilda Mother,” from Piper. Their rapturous outro made me wish I’d been dosed, and as my friend noted, “I guess they only get one song, so they may as well jam the fuck out.” Pity Party, a Quasi-esque girl-drummer/boy-guitarist duo, went sexy, dangerous and nontraditional with “Baby Lemonade,” in keeping with what Barrett himself might have done, had he been playing a tribute to... er... himself. The night rounded out with a medley (“Lucy Leave,” “Candy & a Currant Bun” and “Interstellar Overdrive”) from the Hubcaps, whose sunglasses-wearing drummer belted out earth-shattering snare rolls in a tripped-out jam that got Mike Davis, die-hard fan, grooving in front of the stage... high praise indeed.

April fading

Here we are, in the foothills of the Sierras. There are a load of motorcycle enthusiasts in the area. Today, a Saturday, returning late morning from a run to stores, the amount of riders was nearly equal to that of regular motor vehicles. I am green with envy. Beyond green. Mossy.
But, it is what it is. Uh huh. I do wonder if the kids in LA that got the bike - free! - have succeeded in repairing the critter. What a faithful machine that was to me.
Thoughts of riding back east next month fill my desire. I believe NH has no helmet law. Oh, set me free! Hate the helmet law. So, someone in a bikini and flip-flops wearing a helmet is legal here, yet a leather-clad dirt bag -- safer by so much -- NOT wearing a helmet is not? Makes absolutely no sense to me. Hey, in the rain? Yup - owie! Under 25? Please. No question, squids. First year riders? Maybe even first three.... I mean it. But then, please, cut me some slack. Ugh. Confined and dirty. Yuck. Love a buggy smile! SPLAT.
Where am I going with this? Not for a ride on any HOG soon, that's for sure. Not around these parts.
Doesn't my nephew have a bike back east? Hmmmmmm.
Pushy uncles. Again, Yuck. But but but.
All remains to be seen.
Speaking (here hear) - I have a real honest-to-goodness doctor appointment next week! Hoo-fuckin'-ray! This after numerous phone calls and being goaded by my Health Dept. doc, Nicole (a wonderful woman, thank you very much) to call yet again, using her name to get past the guardians at the gate. Nope. Yet again. Defeated.
But, we kept at it, explaining to new persons -- all women too, might I add -- just what the plight I am facing is, and the window narrowing.... Finally, a supervisor - this after being through the person I was told is the one that would expedite the whatevers.... she was my third-to-last connect before supervisorial pay dirt. The lady listened and got it. She cut through what no one else was capable of doing - seeing- rendering useful - she did it! Yay! All may be taken care of? Bills near $7000 have already arrived in this regard, more on the way.
Blood from a stone? Needless to say, they can find a way to haunt. Relax.
I will do my very best.
Onward.

Modern Medicine

Should I have this looked at? It's really itchy. And it scares paying dates....

And my prescription for hypertension meds (Lipi-something) - BP over 230 systolic; not good - runs out. Call the pharmacy to see if we can get a refill. No. The ER doc that wrote it for the one month will not rewrite.

Hmmm. I furiously reread the massive amounts of paper generated by this whole circumstance and find that it says I am under some sort of coverage at Marshall Hospital, Placerville, until May 23. This is a "Go" from my angle, and so I do.

Steven and Michael drive me over there and deposit me (Friday at 2 pm or so) and I enter the arena yet again, only this time, I have a much more attentive doc - a woman and someone that does not talk over or down - and I get more thorough checks for thyroid and who-know-what. Feeling somewhat comfy with her, other issues are addressed, like the Thing growing from the roof of my mouth. "Nothing to be concerned with." OK.

She writes a new scrip for drugs that might actually do something. And, she writes it with three refills as part of the scrip. Brilliant.

Did I mention the near $600 bill for the 15 minute diatribe from Dr, WHO? Fucking amazing.

All seems that much more, uh, more. We await. The BP is still over 200 systolic even on a good day. Is this stress related? Oh, couldn't be.

KaBoom.

We await the May 12 trip to Beantown and beyond. Poverty sucks, adn I am getting a dose.

That's a drug joke. A dose! Funny! Not Really.

April 18, 1918

My father's day of birth.
Without I would be -- well, I wouldn't. Period. I am his namesake. Oy.
My mother was laying in a coffin on this same day, 1999.
Uh, Happy Birthday.
And we, the undersigned - the living - proceed.

Got an invite to an event celebrating Wakefield Poole un NYC. Have a look.... it came with a very interesting mailing list....

FOR YOUR INFORMATION
2007 Film/Video Program
Organized by Donnell Media Center
New York Public Library
ADMISSION FREEAll Programs held in the Donnell Library Center Auditorium
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Wakefield Poole
Presents and discusses his dance and film work:
THE TWO FACES OF WAKEFIELD POOLE
Saturday, April 28, 2007 at 2:30 PM
At the Donnell Library Center
20 West 53rd Street
New York, NY 10019
The program will include video excerpts of Wakefield Poole’s dancing on the television programs THE GARY MOORE SHOW with Gwen Verdon and LAMP UNTO MY FEET; his choreography for the "end credits" for ONCE UPON A MATTRESS that featured dancer Michael Bennett; and DO I HEAR A WALTZ. In addition, there will also be examples of his work as a filmmaker, including his first film HEAD, a light-hearted parody of a cooking program featuring a voice-over by Julia Child, a clip (featuring nudity) from his breakthrough vision BOYS IN THE SAND; and a joint interview with Mr. Poole and Casey Donovan, the star of BOYS IN THE SAND on the early cable access program "Emerald City."
Wakefield Poole began his dance career in Salisbury, North Carolina. After high school, he became a professional dancer with the internationally renowned Ballets Russes. He then became a Broadway chorus dancer appearing in such hit shows as FINIAN’S RAINBOW and THE UNSINKABLE MOLLY BROWN as well as dancing on television for Perry Como, Ed Sullivan, Gary Moore and Jackie Gleason. Over time, he developed into a choreographer, first assisting the legendary Joe Layton, before working solo on DO I HEAR A WALTZ and being reunited with Joe Layton on BRING BACK BIRDIE. At the end of the 1960’s a new career evolved when he asked himself, "Why can’t someone make a good porn film that’s not degrading?" That summer he decided to make one himself BOYS IN THE SAND became the first gay film to have a display ad in The New York Times and be reviewed in Daily Variety. For the next decade and a half, the name Wakefield Poole was synonymous with quality both in technical execution and artistic interpretation, as well as a trailblazer for gay culture with his quality erotica.
Wakefield Poole will be present at the screening of the films
and at a question and answer session afterwards
Please Note: Stills available upon request
Contact: Joseph Yranski
Donnell Media Center
The New York Public Library
20 West 53rd Street
New York, NY 10019
Telephone: (212) 621-0538
Fax: (212) 245-5272
Email: jyranski@nypl.org

Good Lord! It's HIM !

Land O Goshen! Had this happened last Sunday - that haveing been Easter - I would've been forced to wonder and maybe have to attend a chiurch service somewhere.

What are you raving about?

I get this email telling of response to threads on a place called www.cinematreasures.org in which somebody on the 55th Street Playhouse input has provided ad copy from the NYC papers as to this legend movie "Him," which I have tried fruitlessly for years (see my asking as to such on the thread for the South Station Cinema in Boston, May 2005). My word, validation!

I went so far as to write the manager, now running a gay bookstore in Boston (Calamus, mere feet from the now-defunct theater), and finding the house booker, George Mansour, who is/was the booking agent for the Angelika in NYC recently, although he must be rather aged. Oh, and Google that name for some fun back in the days of extreme yellow journalism in Beantown, sometime in the early 50s - amazing! BUT.....

But we get ad copy for Him! This porn has reached legendary status, even so far as to be denied existing and being an urban legend with mention in Michael Medved's "Golden Turkeys" book.

I am amazed.

Oh, and job offering and more from Katie and Bill at Badger Balm in Gilsum, New Hampshire.

What will come of this remains to be seen , as they seek someone before I come to Boston next month - May 13.

Keep those fingers crossed and those cards and letters coming.

Pre Triskadecaphobia Fun Page

Yay! It should be a holiday whenever it shows up, especially only shy a day of being two weeks after April Fools. I mean, c'mon.

As I have been constantly quoted by Beverlee Blair as to having said "It's all held up by 2X4s" while staring down on the San Francisco peninsula while tripping the light fantastic on Easter Sunday, 1976.

Seems like only yesterday we were flying kikes in the mountain air.

My back is fucking killing me. Argh.

Glory Glory Hallelujah

The aroma of lamb is wafting through the household here in Shingle Springs. Okay, it's actually Cameron Park, but it has a more bucolic ring to it with the other.

Oh, but to be in Rescue, just mere centimeters away on any map.
Easter Sunday. An early rise today - is 4:15 am too early? In any place but a farm labor camp, yes. Arise. Make coffee, roll a rock, spook the villagers in your raiment and new-found piercings, courtesy of Romans or Jews, depending on your hystorical stance.
Appear to the town whore and continue on your way, ready to redeem.... whch is exactly what was done later on at Food For Less, although shy of any chocolate bunnies.
Oh drat. All the shelves that had any Easter wares were pretty well picked apart, even the butt-ugly pinatas hanging above the cheese cooler aisle. Hit me, hit me hard.
It is lovely out today, yet news of hideousness from the Great Lakes to Texas dominates the weather stories. Brrr and Brrr. Yes, I can remember posing for those pictures in our finest new duds on a snow covered lawn - Arlington and Bedford both as backgrounds, so this ain't news to me.
Spoke with Gene last night. He said it was a brisk 28 in East Boston. Lovely. The memory of only weeks ago seems distant, but let me tell of how fucking bitter nasty one particular day there was -- a Wednesday; Charlotte took off work to play and No Snow Was Going To Stop Her or me, as we went to the very new ICA in Boston, right in the middle of the first storm of the year in Boston. Yeah, I lived there as a kid (leaving at 25, still a kid), but this storm was quite possibly the nastiest bit of cold wet nastiness I ever encountered. I believe my sister would agree. Her husband, Tommy, would agree too, but shake his head again in disbelief of our foraging into this slushy miasmatic goo.
He later picked us up at Fresh Pond, the end of the line for the T, and he would not take the same route (Rtes. 2 and 128) on the return. It was rather hideous. Hello Mass. Ave.!
Did I write here as to the Inst of Cont Art and that trek? The most memorable aspect aside from the actual nightmare conditions was being very much alone and getting the run of the entire place almost alone -- what other lunatics would do this? Oh, we met a few, some that even had walked from downtown -- Huh?

But but but -- this new building overlooked the harbor, right next to Anthony's Pier 4 (which forever will remind me of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton - don't ask), with huge windows of maybe three stories in height -- with splashing sleet and snow and what-have-you from above hitting with a beautiful ferocity - the BEST thing seen in the place, for my take on it all. Wonderful, but would I make anyone do this same thing?
At cocktails later on across the street, we sat and imbined and snacked and watched this poor soul fall sideways into a puddle of frozen mess within her two feet of getting onto a shuttle. Misery.
What fun.
On a drive earlier in this visit (Friday before this Wednesday) with Marshall and Gene after dim sum (which was superb), we went to Nahant and more north on the shore. Some of the harbor there was frozen thick, waves seemingly caught mid-form in icy sculpts. Bizarre and cold but cold but cold. Gene's vulnerability made me shiver as we went to this shrine at Orient Heights of the BVM that was huge -- see above for a lovely shot of the two of us that Marshall took. It was some kind of cold I cannot remember suffering before. Nahant and Swampscott and the area was magnificent.

My dad did a lot of building on Nahant in the '50s, but my memory of anything but the causeway leading to the island was/is all that I have -- where was the Henry's summer house? These were our neighbors up the hill in Boston so long ago, and I do remember going there and enjoying the luxury of the beach somewhere... on Nahant... A wall running along somewheres, but I digress.

Ah, spring... I'll be back there next month? Well.

Yum but my pee stinks

It's the day before Easter.

Wholly Weak

Annual animal holy days hijinks --

and chocolate fun with the Lord:

http://www.catholic.org/national/national_story.php?id=23600

and since Jesus is being anatomically correct, now you can too!

http://www.futuredevelopments.net/mwa/images/Weird%20Shit/camel_toe.jpg

On the back burner, so to say

The view from my former address on Griffith Park Boulevard, Silver Lake.

Hmmm...

Shitting glitter in Shingle Springs

Whoa and a hearty WHA???
Here we is. Cameron Park, if by any other name... just outside of Placerville, solidly in the Gold Country. And I am diving for pearls. Oy, sir. Oysters.... Hang Town. That's a joke that you'll have to figure out (I suppose Google might aid a bit).
Evicted from 1721. How un-nice that all was. Was is the operative word. We are done and doner with that, please, pray tell me so. But still feeling the oddness... shall I digress? Let me.
Upon arriving here, under the roof provided by dear friends, Stephen and Michael (gawd bless 'em), I went to the local health clinic to have something long haunting me -- a wart in a horrible place to have such. No, not my ass, but it may as well have been.
One thing leads to another - and my blood pressure is taken - it is through the roof, with a systolic (that's the top number) over 230. My attending phys goes crazy and expects me to detonate any second and sends me post haste to the local hospital - Marhshall - to the ER. Yeah, she was that freaked, as were they all that shared the magic.
Stephen gets the thrill of being not only my taxi but a witness to the many hours of screaming - and I mean screaming - children and the various and sundry ailing and all that --- but how long do we wait? Hours. Many.
After watching the turnover of the afflicted pass and fill and pass again, I ask what's up and I cannot abide and am leaving... "But, you're next..." Uh huh.
We arrived there around 3, left near 10. Blood taken, X-rays, blood pressure again and again and again - an EKG - the works. Oh, and a turkey loaf sandwich after it becomes obvious that I've been there a long time.
I leave with a few days of meds and an appointment to see a doc some time that next week.
The meds did nothing, nada, zip.
But I do find out that I do not have Hep or AIDS or any other STDs or such - I suppose all this is positive. Yes, it sure is. But.
We are now on a higher dosage, and still, haven't broken that 200 mark. Is coffee about to eliminated from my diet? Tell me "NO." It's my last great thrill.
Oh, this may ALL be my last thrill. I am so done. But, be positive, Bubby. Okay.
Now all is eradicated as to LA County benefits and we have to deal yet again with mindset of them that do for the county one is within -- not the State, mind you; this is all county, statewide, even if the EBT (foodstamp and whatever) program is state. Go figure. Dare ya. Then come explain it to me.
Can't wait for the bill from the ER. That should be a dandy one. Like I could pay it anyhow.
All is good.
Haven't really cooked a meal yet, which is kind of Farouk on leave, but also miles away from my regular diet. Steve is really into mayonaise big time (more personal than chef-oriented, but, mayo rules in his dietary realm) and poor Michael somehow got Gout. Gout? That's from another place in time, ain't it? I have to watch what was my dwindling yet enormous waistline. Salts and fats. Killers. They know me by name, but they have to find me.... oh, they have.
Speaking of finding me, hardly anyone else knows where I am. It will remain so for a while.
Pray, light candles, pray some more -- this is one odd E-ticket I'm riding.
Wheeeeeeee.
More later, as we just got hooked up with the Net today at home. Thrills.

March!

More than a month - a command!

And we are leaving lovely 1721 here for somewhat unknown territory, territories. Thrust under the grinding wheels of progress, I am out of here at some unknown date, eviction! Got served a three-day Pay OR Quit notice while in Boston visiting the very ill and time-challenged Gene Bellabona. Marshall flew me in, first class, for dim sum with the two of them, the result of a phone conversation in December while they were eating in Boston's Chinatown.

That trip brought this action here into play, as I was unable to have even known of this in time to deal adequately with all that it brings with it.

Life will go on.

But, the collected amounts of stuff, endless. I have already loaded a carful to Goodwill and there will be more. Can I comfortably walk away from this all? Yes, yes, and yes. What's the alternative? A shopping cart reality for the duration? I think not.

Friends. Family. Sister Mary is coming down from her retreat in the mountains of Boulder Creek above San Jose/Santa Cruz to collect the artworks and give them safe haven until. All else is subject to disbursement and getting disposed of, one way or another. SO much to deal with as we open boxes untouched for near a decade. Mercy.

The dust. My eyes!

But all seems remarkably even for such weird territory. It's all new to me, folks.

Have dealt with the Department of Social Services trying to keep some of this above water. Back when first going for assistance, I got a notice saying I was not to get anything because my spouse (not her again?) hadn't filled out some form. Uh huh. May this work in my favor, but at the time, it was death to the spirit, as the system is apt to do so well.

Tuesday I was found to be disabled. This is old news, but my legs and feet emoted themselves into a hurtful limp as I went to get this evaluation. Good until May 27 - a three-month window. Plus, they didn't receive the paper work for Food Stamps or whatever they all it now (a not so bad to handle plastic card - oh, it's called an EDB card).

Now I have to seek medical assistance from more Free circumstances, such as the Free Clinic over near the Beverly Center.

I am busy.

But, greetings from a fresh month. What fun lies ahead!

Book 'em, book 'em good

Finalized a trip to Boston with M. Goldberg yesterday. We are going for to visit ailing friend, Gene Bellabona, who is being dismantled slowly by modern medicine. From bi-pass surgeries to cancer and diabetes, Gene is dealing with some serious issues. No one gets out alive here, folks.

Marshall has provided me with round-trip, first-class tickets. he is amazing in this capacity, as he also provided my ticket last visit, a year ago last October. What can I say as to my respect for him and his genorosity? He is so fucking special. How far back do we go? Mid late '60s. We've seen a lot and been through a lot.

February 8 through February 16. How cold will it be? How long has it been since I've tasted such? Hmmm - Europe, 1989-1990, maybe. I don't have the clothes from that expedition anymore; like they'd fit me anyhow, but but but, we are measurably smaller than a year ago, attested to by swimming within some trousers that fit then but no more. This is a good thing. Yes.

What about work, huh? We are addled with this aspect of the uncertainties coming down the pike, so to say. My art is really good right now - I am happy with the way it is forming in front of me as I work, wondering what this is, what this means, all that, complete with surprises as they get completed. Wanna buy some art? Please.

This schedule is two weeks from being a reality, with a very 'real' first of yet another month falling in there all the while. I am concerned. Very.

But life does go on. Within you, without you.

Take me along.

Interplanetary

Like how did this image go berserk on me so? That image below went kaflooey and filled pages, with that poor woman and her attached newborn being chased with scissors... Anyhow, life goes on.
And as a special reward, The Carpenters will now sing for you.
Calling Interplanetary Crafts. Enjoy the show.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_BrSVOOK610

loopie

What the Hell happened there? That's WILD!

That Doctor on the right looks a bit like Dick Cheney to me.
Mercy, it is cold. And this is from Los Angeles - where the area's citrus has been reduced 75% by the frosts. Cold. 77 below on Mt. Washington, NH - brisk by any standard.
Watched a house nearby (three across as the crow flies from the deck in back) go up in flames on Friday night - could it have been related to someone seeking some warmth? Methinks so, as Ted and I sauntered past the building to see what happened to it - boarded up and damaged, but not as much as what I thought from watching those flames. Creepy close. Started as a plume of smoke - how odd, thought I. Within minutes, full-on flames reaching the sky, littered with embers flying and flittering about. Asbestos, anyone? Pretty real shit, I do say.
Rain here this morning, with chance of more? Who knows? Snow has fallen in parts of LA untouched by such for two decades. Malibu? Yup. The 5 is closed on the Grapevine. Boy, do I have a memory of doing my last motorcycle ride without a helmet law - Thanksgiving 1992? Anyhow, seeing weather reports of the cold up on that stretch, I opted for the 101. It was still as cold as ______ - fill in the blank.

Getting off (I wish) my bike at Pea Soup Andersons in Buellton was frightening, as my knees were so amazingly frozen yet seemingly colder when I stopped. Bedecked in leathers and silks, it was still really frigid. The thought of continuing on was daunting, but duty called and I had to be in LA for work the following morning. Fun!

Ah, to be young again. No, someone else's turn. I am content but chilled.

And do let me tell you of how much fat has been burned off someway somehow recently. Clothes that haven't been bothered with for hundreds of pounds fit me again. Hello wardrobe! The real test will be when those aforementioned leathers fit. Those were not cheap and I covet them yet. I have a cherished memory of my mother asking to see me all gussied up in road wear while visitng Boston in Winter some time ago. She loved the look, or so she said. I looked like something dangerous without the bike between my legs with all that on me. Or so I think. Ohhhh, danger! As if.

Martin Luther King Jr. Day

And I posted an Amos and Andy from Youtube at a forum and got called racist for doing such. Okay, can someone explain to me why? It was done knowing this would happen, but what is racist or whatever with this show? Is the Anyd Griffith Show the cracker equivalent? Well, yeah, but.... I adored that show (Amos and Andy) when I was a kid and it was shown without malice, I surely hope. Kingfish was a god to me. His ability to stir shit was magnificent, and he was constantly up to something. I am addled by the knee-jerk reaction this received.

If they only knew of my past with rights and suffering on the sides as situations like being refused a rental in Boston (racist? whew!) when all was ready to be signed and my black roommate showed up. Same thing again with a purchase of goods at Haymarket, having some fool announce a lower price than what was jut paid by my roommate and I for same product - chickens. Fucker. But whaddya do? It was a constant that one whom is white can easily walk away from and never actually engage.

I get it. I think I get it. But I am from northern Euro stock, so, just how much can I "get it"? The Irish got it long ago and they hold the same nastiness that was thrown at them.

Maybe an invasion from distant hungry planets would galvanize the differences and bring a unified humanity to the front.

Oh yeah. Honey, we'll wake you when it's over.

Friday, January 12. Well, what have you got to say for yourself?

Um, huh?

Just as I thought.

Work it!

Do these images have something odd in common? Check out that last image by R Crumb and the legs at Hot Flash by Azule - she had a thing with his stuff, as she did a Yeti gal that was amazingly full-sized and ready to please. The mind boggles. Atavism is good. I am the king.
WORK IT!

If given the chance, Yes! I get to go downtown, high up in a tall building, sealing envelopes for some political entity. Asked for by name - and bless Vicki Berndt www.vickiberndt.com for getting my clown feet in that door. Even parking will be compensated. Yay. Bucks. Not the BIG ones, but bucks, nonetheless. Bring it on. In the meantime, in between time, some silly must fill voids.
Bring it on.

I do I do I do.

And do try this for a blast of 1969 with the Grateful Dead, New Years Eve, at the Ark in Boston, even if it erroneously says The Boston Tea Party.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd69-12-31.sbd.gardner.7373.sbeok.shnf
Yup, that's my ill-typed mutterings beneath the music.
One would think I would've proofed such. Oh well. Not like me at all.

Januaries

Is that correct? I doubt it.

But in the meantime, in between time, photo funnies!

Here's Branden doing a Roman candle and a kitty doing the same pose about a century before him....

Have we all celebrated? I lit the remainder of my Roman candles at the strike of midnight on New Years. What fun. This neighborhood and the surrounding areas absolutely explode with such on that night and on the 4th of July.

Do come. Duke 'em. Nuke 'em. Salute!

The New Year

So where is this interview I expected to get today? Will I ever work again? It's a bit desperate around the edges, the center, the top and the bottom - D-E-S-P-E-R-A-T-E. You can smell it and taste it in the air.
Or that's just L.A. exuding all of what is has to offer. Dee-Lish.
Near 70 degrees is what we have going on here for weather today. Reports from far and wide across the USA show very high temps overall. Anyone for global warming and lower fuel bills? Ask a polar bear.
Saw Pan's Labyrinth with Branden and Jesse last night at the Arclight. Amazingly busy; so much so that the crowd to get into that theater was thick at 7:45 pm. We had pre-printed 'do-it-yourself' tix that J printed up - that facilitated something except getting seated - but the seats were all that and the movie was kinda dark - No, it was dark, period. Nothing says bleak like the Spanish at times. They make it into art. I watch.
Guernica says loads as to that.
I so want to visit Spain - this year would be fine with me. The Prado. So much to see and eat eat eat there. Tapas! The Mediterranean Sea. Dali!
If you're reading this and you can assist, please, contact me immediately.
Now to find the cash to get a new passport. A must do. I must.