i missed tim o’gara last night. he was in dallas. i was whiling away my time and tim was calling me telling me he was in dallas at the airport. but since i’m in this never never land presently, my cell hasn’t been attached to me like it was in my daily life back in topanga. i didn’t know where it was for a few days recently. didn’t care. anyway, tim’s also at fault because he didn’t give me any heads up that he was going to be here until hours before he was here. but i spoke with him today and we have agreed to never speak of the incident again. my last word on the subject is this.
tim’s new record is still all i listen to. it’s the best record i’ve ever played on, and everyone i’ve played it for loves it. i’m doing an interview with tim for lovetoknow.com soon, and hopefully he’ll be pressing some records before long. tentative title is ‘underground waltz.’ gonna book some shows in baton rouge and get the boys out for a long weekend at the new house if we can synchronize our watches. start a few fires. buy some southern girls drinks. listen to tim sing poems. sleep on beds of spanish moss and dance naked in the hurricane force air of the nineteenth century.
i haven’t been sleeping that well. i think it’s this book i’m reading called voodoo in new orleans by robert tallent. it’s stirring a few things. i feel the slow effects of transition on a deeper level the last few days (nights). these spells are in the air. something about the magic of tim’s new record, the fact that we recorded it in a day of exhaustion the day before i left for good, the fact that i now know after listening to that record that i left the best band i was ever in to move away, something about how sad that makes me because i know i can’t replace things like that with any sort of ease … something about all of that magic and tragedy that is the life i left behind combined with these stories of mysticism and legend and spirits and power and gris-gris that inform the landscape of where i’m going … these spells are really in the air. they sweep up wentworth avenue through the leaves of the myrtle trees and penetrate the secure walls of the red, white and blue room while lefty keeps watch and i slowly pull me head out from under the covers to say hello. dreams of snake charming and charlatanical exploitation and striking red gold and studying under the immortal eyes of bayou john and marie laveau keep me halfway between.
plus, i’m a little worried about phil’s blood clot on the cornelia marie.
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11 responses so far ↓
how ’bout that blood clot? it’s been a tough year up in the northern fishing grounds. tough year.
you entertain. play more music. write more poetry. you inspire me to do all three.
that blood clot freaked me out. phil’s my favorite. after thinking i’d fish the northwesterner for a long time, i’m now officially a corneila marie man. phil needs to take a good look in the mirror, though. that is one unhealthy fisherman.
hey lizzie! good to hear from you … how are things? did you figure out how to get away from academia yet? did you happen to keep a map of your escape? do you have access to a fax machine or scanner? i occasionally find myself feeling like someone punched me square in the stomach when i realize i’ve signed up for more school. yikes. i’ve always got one eye open for escape.
don’t you get it? your job, kev, is to fuck academia UP. make this blog your dissertation. record video of lefty listening to howard stern as research. make a drink that includes natural light and purple passion as ingredients, call it a “hummingbird” and serve it to your students at garden parties.
lt, will you be my advisor? hummingbird will flow at every meeting. howard is presently airing a segment called ‘what ever happened to kielbasa queen?’ lefty is asking me to turn it up …
Hey Kev! ironically enough, I have yet to escape academia, at least officially. I just got a job (starting Aug 11) as a curriculum writer for a test prep company in SM. great company… i suppose my teaching resume is far more impressive than my corporate resume, who knew.
i am still plotting my escape however. it involves a story about majic and a little girl named Finn. my ticket to ride.
LT– is that you? wtf is up? we’re neighbors now!
sounds bitchin … good luck with all that. that’s LT alright. she’s gonna be my copy editor, adviser, and bodyguard. we have a medical plan. i need all the help i can get!
how was texas (save the drama for your mama). did you get a chance to visit other areas? san antonio? austin?
nah, not this trip. i spent the first week here unwinding from everything. then i went down to baton rouge for a week to find a place. then i spent a few days unwinding from that. i’m getting a little stir crazy now, but i’m trying to save some money for when i get down there, so i’m just exploring the dallas area mostly. it’s not really my cup of tea, but not a bad place to visit. i would someday like to spend some time in austin, though.
lizzie via kev: this is lt. breaker breaker or whatever they say. john and me leave on a road trip today– north (to oregon), not east (toward red stick; we’re saving that for later). lv, i’ll contact you directly upon our return.
kev, you and i will are road trippin’ at the same time. feel free to call for a simultaneous road trip chat. we’ll tempt the fates now that it’s f-ing illegal to talk and drive at the same time in cali. ‘hands free!’ is the new motto. how’s that for innuendo?