"…something like the supervisor of an entire team of political agents…"
You could find us by the smell of cheap wine in open-air plastic cups.
See, we'd walked into this sunny summer party unguarded booze them all in college us two in high school. Strolling the lawn with our big red cups held chest-high both hands.
We were alert and amazed. Thick-haired and thin-faced.
Bobbing along like tipsy rowboats.
Sipping small sips.
Invisible. But not odorless.
My son wants bacon made out of coffee for me and bacon made out of orange juice for him.
Leave those pigs alone!
But keep the bacon coming.
A thing a day a written thing a thought a memory a day it's not too much to ask too much to do.
Shhhhhh. Monkey Vortex Radio Theater, now on the air. Take it for a spin (and let me know whatcha find confusing and/or broken), here.
In Florida, the land of the dead for me. All those memories of bouncing on airboats through swamps, and wandering around exotic bird parks, and listening to King Crimson on the wide lawn under the wide sky by the reflecting lagoon.
And sometimes driving, sometimes walking over to my great aunts, and uncles, apartments for bowl snacks and conversation.
There was that one time -- Meyer borrowed our walkman. Suddenly volume spun all the way up, all the way up he could hear again. Oh my god such a smile.
All gone now, that gang. There were two Irvings.
And all alligators gone. All tennis courts gone. All rec centers gone with miles of immaculate green felt pool tables.
Key West too.
And Florida is for me. The land of the dead for me.
I want to build a house with Richard Brautigan up on the third floor.
Looking out a large window at open land hands on the windowsill.
Wearing that old hat that old vest those old glasses.
He looks good.
Political aside: 24 hours after my all-imprudent edgewise post, below, big-time pollster John Zogby arrives late to the dinner party. But wait: we’re wearing identical sports goggles! Confused? Engraged? Perhaps a little…peckish? You should be. Read more about it here.
Political aside: New all-imprudent edgewise post in which I manage to forget 8 out of 9 key Lessons of Dukakis and declare this the week GWB lost the election, here.
Do you know how many stars up there -- how many of those nighttime naked-eye stars-that-you-can-see are part of our local little galaxy?
Not off in the broader universe representing some distant cluster.
Just local twinkle. Milky Way shine.
Do you know? Do you? Do you?
How about all of them?
Motherfucker.
Political aside: New dailykos post, including a sub-scientific but partly binding poll on the scope, speed, nature, and intensity of Sean Hannity’s directional decay, here.