Hope.
Dear Clusterflock - forgive this indulgence but I wanted to share something tonight with a couple of friends here who had asked me to finish a thought.
Unfortunately my site seems to be down for the count and I’ve had to post elsewhere. Once things are up and running I promise I’ll clean up this little mess!
[...] Socio-political isolationism.
And so I don’t care where you fall in the political spectrum as I know that nearly half of you will make the wrong choice this year. You always do. I’ve lingered in the shadows of this codified cynicism for long enough to know how it all works.
But something just feels different this year. Something is on the wind - out of place even. I can’t quite pin it down.
It smacks of Hope.
At the risk of tipping my hand I’ll admit that the notion is foreign to me [...]
The Scroggins Deposit: Sister Smackdown & Theater Culture
For Cindy: Sister Smackdown explores the theater. If she’d have meant to say ‘Good Luck’ then she’d have said ‘Good Luck.’ Break a leg indeed!
Dear Clusterflock: Accidental Memories
Have you ever stumbled across a memory that should have belonged to someone else? Rick?
The elephant in the room
We talked about what we’d wanted to be when grown. Someone made the requisite joke about still not knowing.
New York feels like that conversation today. No-one here ever wanted to remember September 11, 2001 with lapel pins, tears or bluster.
And before the day’s done someone will point out that we still don’t know what we still don’t know.
For Cindy: Sister Smackdown is on the prowl
Sister Smackdown is in town and don’t nobody better be putting no lipstick on no pitbulls…
Happy Anniversary?
I believe that a certain flocker enjoyed an anniversary yesterday …
Progress
At about Bowery & Broome.
For Cindy: Sister Smackdown on the Buzz
Well there went the neighborhood!
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Sam in the city
Yeah, I know. Probably the most significant event in the history of online video.
Sorry.
Twitterflock #1
I probably should have introduced myself before I disrespected her leprosy. I always do that wrong.
Imaginary Zombie Film. Scene 1. 4 July 2008
They did not fear the fire and the noise meant nothing to them. It was the city - her meat, grease and gristle - that beckoned and cooed.
She dared peek and the graze is begun.
Louise Bourgeois
We went up to the Guggenheim today to check out the Louise Bourgeois exhibit.
I was struck - as so many have been before me - by the beauty and pain of her work that followed the death of her father. I did my best to explain to my daughter that she needn’t wait until my untimely demise to find inspiration. She suggested that perhaps I’d flattered myself or something to that effect - I don’t remember, I was only pretending to listen.
After our visit we paid the requisite respects to the Guggenheim café as I’d agreed to mousse, truffles and the like.
My wife ordered a delicate-looking brownie and the girls each went for chocolate cupcakes. When the attendant asked for my order I replied: “I don’t want your Bourgeois dessert.”
I was reminded very quickly of how difficult it can be for most people to appreciate why things are funny to me.
The Scroggins Deposit
Abstinence Club
From the Daily Announcements at my daughter’s high school. I don’t know why this strikes me as funny. Maybe my daughter speaks the truth; maybe I am just creepy.
The Abstinence Club will meet today immediately after school in room 222. Please be prompt! All girls going to the fashion show on Saturday must attend.
RE: Death Star
“What we have here is the Thumb Star - the greatest weapon of mass destruction the universe has ever seen. Luckily they included a button, right here, that’ll blow the entire thing up!”
Yep. I got me some culture alright. So very proud am I.
1979: Annus Tracibilis
Mother’s glasses? Check.
Snickering father fumbling with new camera? Check.
Most awesome Lindsey Buckingham haircut and savage tan? Check.Ok… Somebody else’s turn.
Accountability
Sorry. Daryl caused me to do this…
Craigslist and the Killing Machine
From craigslist.com today:
Wanted: Irritable and unpleasant medium-small predator
[...]
I’m looking for holistic and organic pest control for my house. The pests are some sort of scary hyper-intelligent, possibly modified rodents. Traps are ineffective on them and I fear that they are incorporating.I’m looking for some type of bobcat, or possibly an ocelot derivative. [...] (link)
This gentleman’s personal blog, The Anthologies of Awesome, is among my daily reads. Just in case you were wondering, that is.
Self Portrait - 1982
I’ve always loved this self portrait - mainly because I could never really explain it to my own satisfaction. It’s definitely a picture that I took of myself in about 1982 and it definitely came back exactly as you see it here.
As spastic as it seems I have to admit that it really captured my personality. More importantly it captured someone else’s face just under my right arm.
I never did figure out to whom that face belonged or, more importantly, why it was lingering on the last frame of my goofy roll.
Christ, A Rose!
“Up from the grade he’s a rose!
With a mighty carrot for his nose.
And he drove from Victor eating dog chow mein
Where he lives forever and his grades remain…”He’s a rose! He’s a rose!
Hallelujah, Christ! A rose!”
~~~~~~
“Stop singing, boy,” my dad said adjusting the rear-view mirror, “and just sit still.”
He could reach me from the front seat without even slowing down.
He’d done it before.I swear I thought those were the words…
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Like Rabbits
I do love me some St. Paddy’s day but, if I’m being honest, I just can’t be around giant rabbits anymore.
They’re ugly drunks.
Yeah, I said it.
Anything get under anyone else’s saddle this week?
The Right To Bear Arms
What’s all this talk about the right to bear arms? What could you possibly have against bear arms? (Sorry)
Confessional
She slipped in next to me on the 6 and said a “good morning” that struck me as more a test than a greeting.
“Isn’t it sad that people feel they can’t reach out and talk to their neighbors on the subway?” she asked.
“No,” I replied, “it’s not.”
And so I ask, dear Clusterflock, have you done anything yet today to embarrass yourself? Given that we’re the morning after St. Paddy’s I should think this a fairly simple assignment.
Sandcastle
I opened a box today that’s been closed for many years. No reason. I’m not trying to keep things in nor am I trying to keep things out. I’ve just not cracked the seal on this one, particular box for two or three zip codes worth of my adult life.
The box contains photos, doodles, mementos, notes and other fragments that have proven themselves forgettable at one point or another over the years.
What better source of inspiration on a dreary Sunday evening?
And so - the first entry on the first page of the first notebook at the top of the pile in this forgotten box:
1 janvier, 1987
Found a pink telephone today on the beach; maybe God left it there - don’t know yet. Used it to dig a moat. Who else can say that today? This will be a good year.
And you, dear Clusterflock? Any boxes laying around? I’d love to hear from them.
Home again, home again
“I thought you were dead,” Sheila said with just the appropriate air of curiosity.
“Yeah, I know,” I conceded, “I get that a lot.”
“I’m glad you’re not dead,” she added, “some of us don’t mind having you around.”
“You’re very generous,” I told her, “and sweet.”
“Yeah, I know.” she conceded, “I get that a lot.”