Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Well I hadn’t written a word of the highly over-discussed prolly now minor thesis in like at least a month (two?) and I finally knuckled down and cranked a bit out yesterday afternoon just to clear the cobwebs and thought I’d share it with you. It’s nothing to get hopped up about, rilly, but progress is a nice thing, all things being equal and fake sugar being sweet yet low. Hope all is well. Franz gives his regards.

It felt nice to be outside. The hotel room had gotten cold then hot then lukewarm after the 3 different times he’d woken up to fiddle with the air conditioning. Sleep had been an elusive partner and when it had come it had been frustratingly unfulfilling. Not standard protocol for Ben, even in weird places. Couldn’t blame the bed, either. Perfectly comfortable, better than his home bed actually. Too many thoughts floating through the brain. Wondering what the hell was going on with his two friends, if they were still in Vegas, which he knew, somehow, they were, despite attempts rendered lame to reach either of them at the hotel or via their folks.

But now he was out, wandering the streets of Atlanta, the breeze frittered by, it was a little humid, warm, but not overbearingly so, although this time of year it usually was. Yesterday, the funeral, had been slightly warmer than this, but not even that bad, not that he’d even really noticed it, strangely enough. Too much going on. He hadn’t sweat much, he’d remembered that. The closest thing to an inner commentary on the climate as he’d reached yesterday.

Bah. The weather. Who gave a fuck?

He was on his way to have a coffee and maybe a bite with the his grandfather’s good friend, a black man named Elwood. Elwood had something for him. something his grandfather had wanted him to have. Ben hadn’t asked why this object, whatever it was, was going to him & not his dad. He didn’t need to. That relationship he knew well enough, despite his old man’s efforts to butter it up in a field of lies.

He arrived at the predesignated spot, a small coffee shop a couple blocks off the main drag called the sandwich bean. Another lame name in a sea full of em. Elwood was seated towards the back, in a rather dark corner. Somehow the light permeating the rest of the joint was blocked inadvertently, or maybe advertently, by forces unknown.

“Ah, young Ben, have a seat,” Elwood said, not bothering to get up. There was a paper bag situated on the ground next to his chair. “time’s a funny thing, my boy. You’re right on time, yet things are definitely running early today.” He smiled.

Ben was confused. It wasn’t the first time. Their conversation at the funeral wake had been bizarre yet amusingly interesting. Nothing the old man had said had made much sense, but Ben liked him. maybe he liked confusion. Clarity was overrated, anyway.

PS: Speaking of literary projects, I just finished reading Jamie’s book, and it’s really fucking good. I blab further on the subject over here. If you’re too lazy to click over there, at least click over here & buy the damn thing. Aloha.

Monday, September 19, 2005

Saw the 40 year old virgin this weekend. It gets a tentative “eh.” Hilarious first 45 minutes, then a precipitous drop off the cliff of “trying to be meaningful.” And I will never forgive the “let’s have him still be a virgin and marry a grandma” dillio. If I ruined it for you, sorry, but save yourself the agony, wait for the rental and push stop after the chick barfs on him.

The raiders lost again, a game they had about a billion opportunities to win, and now they’re 0-2 and heading to phillie next weekend. Did I mention phillie looks like a juggernaut again all of sudden? Oh well. At least they did against SF, which ain’t too big an accomplishment.

Cal’s a quiet 3-0, even though they ain’t really played anyone yet. Amazing what winning can do. We’ve got our coach tied up for the next few years with a fat contract, and some anonymous persona came out of the woodwork with a 25 million dollar donation earmarked toward a new stadium a month or two ago. Anyone who says big time college football is not important, cast them into the sea. It begats the bottom line in ways that naysayers would never imagine without geniuses like me to clarify. Sarcasm alert in G-minor. Meaning, grain of salt be damned.

Things I did in new york I ain’t mentioned yet: went to the Yankees/red sox game on 9/11, saw spamalot on broadway, went to a beer festival in Brooklyn, had maybe the best hamburger of my life at JG Melon’s on the upper east side (sorry in & out), hit up the Museum of modern art, the Guggenheim, and the Metropolitan museum of art, went to the top of the empire state building, statue of liberty, ellis island, and don’t forget, jesus Christ PLEASE don’t forget, the irish potato famine monument. I also did a bunch of other shit which doesn’t cubbyhole into 3 word description. Thus I won.

Also, tomorrow I’m moving to atlantic city to become a professional blackjack player slash robot street performer. I’m thinking about joining the moonies, too. If they still exist. Wish me luck.