Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Went to the opening of the Lee Friedlander exhibit SFMoma with my pop. Later that day took a Friedlander rip-off picture of the window display at Out of the Closet, thrift store on Market St.
After the reading I did with Ed Lin at Modern Times bookstore, we went to a Mexican restaurant on Mission St. where five (six?) year old Rae broke into a spontaneous River Dance, mortifying her mother M.
Ace, the store cat at Aardvark Books on Church St., has been replaced by another orange tabby named Owen.
I had to clean out some college books from my ma's house. A few days later, I can barely remember half of them, but they included:
Makioka Sisters, The Violent Bear It Away, Ulysses, The Odyssey, The Sound and the Fury, Native Son, Their Eyes Were Watching God, Paradise Lost, Heath Anthology of American Literature, Lolita, Seraph on the Suwanee, Restoration Plays, The Aeneid, The Bacchae, Another Republic, A Wild Sheep Chase, My Antonia, Gunga Din Highway, Making Waves, The Street, The Setting Sun...
I found that the ones I wanted to keep were the ones that I had fetishized because they had certain memories attached to them -- these included an otherwise forgettable Norton's annotated Moby Dick, which I remembered reading in an ecstatic marathon frenzy in the sunless apartment I shared with D. on University Avenue; a copy of Woman in the Dunes which I was reading when I hitchhiked to Oregon with C.; the copy of Bullfinch's Mythology that my sister and I got from our parents and which was warped in the rain when I left it in the backyard of our house on Jefferson St. in Berkeley. These have the peculiar, transporting quality of music that you remember listening to at a certain time in your life.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
"The parties were enormous; there were at least a hundred people at a basement apartment in the West Nineties. People overflowed into the cellar compartments near the furnace. Something was going on in every corner, on every bed and couch -- not an orgy but just a New Year's party with frantic screaming and radio music. There was even a Chinese girl."
Shit, that's all it took back then? I would have been a much more fascinating specimen in the late 40s.
Monday, February 04, 2008
It is Chinese custom on a child’s first birthday to hold a ceremony whereby the infant’s future career path is predicted by fanning a variety of objects before him. The object that the child gravitates toward is symbolic of his destiny and interests.
If the child chooses an abacus, he will be a successful businessman.
If a child chooses a pen, he will be a writer.
If the child chooses a brick, he will succeed in real estate ventures.
If a child chooses a shiv, his fame will be at the cost of another’s destruction.
If the child chooses a mirror, he will make his fortune as a Youtube celebrity.
If the child chooses a stick of Bazooka gum, he will be possessed of wild ideas that shimmer brilliantly at and evaporate by dawn.
If the child chooses pudding, he will have a wavering constitution and live in his parents’ basement.
If a child falls on his ass and refuses to move, he will be a burden to his wife.
If a child grasps at air, he will renounce all worldly possessions and be susceptible to the fanaticism of cults.