A Summer Night

Farewell, SuperTrashCan

This is a tin commemorative Superman wastebasket I've had since I was a little boy (age six, approximately). On one side we have the image of Clark Kent as a little boy (age six, approximately), lifting a truck up off the ground and saving the life of his father just as the jack supporting the truck collapses (this is a salient moment in the film, as it marks the first time young Clark Kent's superpowers are witnessed by earthlings). On the other side appears the iconic image of a full-grown Superman, powering through the ionosphere above Metropolis. Little man's all grown up and ready to flex.. Inside the trashcan is a big "S" emblem - the same one emblazoned on Supe's, uh, unitard.

I fell in love with this trashcan the first time I saw it, and I remember begging my parents to buy it for me. That was thirty years ago. Recently, Janelle deemed it "too stinky" to continue using, and I agreed...so it's off to the charnel grounds, Superman. Thank you for thirty years of loyal service. (As you read this, I am placing my SuperTrashCan within a larger trashcan and wheeling it out to the curbside as "Taps" plays on the hi-fi.)

Imitation Of Life

First girl I ever kissed was a Southern lass name of Misti Pearson. Her Pa was a U.S. Postal Delivery man in our hometown. Anyway, I did my homework in preparation for the moment: I watched a kiss scene from the film Fright Night over and over on a VHS tape I rented from Prime Time Video. Also, I drew upon a scene from Do The Right Thing (when Mookie lays the Mack vibe down on "Tina," played by Rosie Perez). In case you ever wondered what might happen when an AfAm indy film darling informs a wormy Cracker from the Deep South, just look to me. I am your specimen...well, but, yas, yas, of course The Kiss was an epic failure (and by that I mean that it was clunky, toothy, and that Misti initiated closure before me) - but at least I got it over with. Why am I telling you this? Because recently I bought some Proustian "GEORGIA PEACHES" at the Hy*Vee and looked & seen that they was growed at a farm name of Pearson Farms, which is about 50 miles from my hometown. Small wee li'l global corporate-industrial world, this one.

I'm The Operator Of My Pocket Calculator

I had never listened to Kraftwerk until this past weekend, when I found myself driving around rural Iowa for uninteresting reasons that resulted in an antique bed for Eleanor, who is mighty, though wee. The album? Computer World. (And, you know, a few days earlier, my man Richard dropped by - Richard, Chicano americano don't fuck wit' 'im arhat of the narrative arc, no bullshit. He said, "Man, that feedback on my novel in that letter you wrote me is the only thing that makes any sense to me," and I said "Cool. Wait. What did I write?" and he said "Fuck you," but understood a man's attention so we chilled and he told a cuento that put Mickey Spillane to spinning & my neighbor lady to peering down from her kitchen window at the loudmouths getting drunk on each other's storytime.) And this music is just about perfect for cornfields cornfields cornfields billboard cornfields cornfields cornfields...Finally, Kraftwerk's mitered to its most perfect landscape...and I had no idea Richard & I would connect in such a way, but any artist reading this will understand the power of unforced, easy, natural collaboration: It's like finding someone who's from the same planet you are and flashing cosmic gang signs all along the Yuga.

Solstice Treat

Bowel Paralysis

Dr. George Nichopoulos, the personal physician to Elvis Presley, recently published a memoir revealing the true cause of the King's death: constipation: "He would get embarrassed, he’d have accidents onstage...it was really a physiological problem. During the last few years we were going back and comparing pictures, some of them were taken just two weeks apart but he looked like he’d gained 20 pounds when the only difference was that he had a good healthy bowel movement and then lost a lot of weight from that. Usually you pass it all in two or three days, but at the autopsy we found stool in his colon which had been there for four or five months because of the poor motility of the bowel...if they had done the colostomy then, he’d probably still be here. But it wasn’t acceptable treatment at that time."

Threshold Sunbeam

Today I biked over to the Dey House to use the copier while the secretaries were out to lunch - not that they'd mind, but that it's nice to not implicate innocent bystanders when perpetrating acts of questionable ethics (in this case, pilfering University resources for my other job). While there, I ran into Jim McPherson. He invited me into his office and we talked a little while.

"If you ever need a letter of recommendation from me, just let me know."

"Thank you, Jim."

The sun is out and now I will mow the knee-high grass.