Mickey Z

Cool Observer

Saturday, January 14, 2006

She called me over for a lesson

Posted by Mickey Z on 01/14 at 08:10 AM

In “general,” you won’t often see me making the first comment to my own post, but Expendable Owen from Spain may not be around later, so he asked me to post his story for him. It’s fascinating:

So in Ireland one afternoon with my mothers’ mother, a music teacher in the village I grew up in. I told her I’d gotten interested in Nikola Tesla, and when I mentioned the rivalry he’d had on with Edison, his alternating current vying with Edison’s direct current, my grandmother brightened up and told me her grandfathers’ brother, a fellow called Frank McGowan had been one of Edison’s assistants in New York. Before coming up with the idea to make the lightbulb elements from carbon, Edison had wanted to use a special type of bamboo only found far up the Amazon and so sent Frank on an expedition find it in 1888. His recounted his trip in a NY newspaper, which was reprinted in a local Irish one, photocopies of which my grandmother showed me in a folder along with correspondence her brother had with some folk in the States who referred him to a website with Edison’s letters published including some Frank’d sent while on his expedition. He mentioned tradition amongst his guides was to make extremely merry for a couple of days before setting off, only on this occasion they celebrated for a week beforehand, and ‘after their orgies were quite incapacitated for the remainder of the journey.’ There was also talk of knifefights and him finding the ladies he encountered quite handsome, and he came upon some fifteen silver mines, writing Edison he’d donate them to him to further his research, but upon his return to New York he vanished and that was the last anyone heard of him. My family was contacted by a rep who said they could lay claim to the titles of the mines but if they did would lose Frank’s pension so they chose not to contest.

Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 01/14 at 08:20 AM

Hello all - this is becoming a habit!

My story, which is kind of along similar lines to yours Mickey (in terms of someone offering guidance):

I was a fresher (freshman) at University and went to the local university union with a friend for drinks. I proceeded to get very drunk very quickly as I can’t handle alcohol at all.

The level we were in at the union had a stage for bands and an act came on. As I was drunk I heckled the band a bit (this is very unlike me).

They took a mid-set break and so the stage was empty, but they’d left all their instruments. My friend was at the toilet and I decided it would be a great idea to storm the stage and show them how it should be done.

So I walked over and got up on the stage and strapped on an electric guitar and started thrashing away at it. Within minutes two security guys came up and proceeded to throw me out, with what I thought was excessive force. I was totally out of order of course but still…

So still full of drink-fuelled anger I stood at the door and argued with the door staff calling them all the pricks and fuckers under the sun. The guy then remembered that he still had my student ID and said since I was being such a dick that I would be reported and maybe thrown off the course.

This was obviously a load of crap but I really believed it and got very worried. I was now standing in the street alone, drunk as hell, thinking I had messed up my chances of university education (please remember how drunk I was).

So (and this is a little embarrassing) I soon walked away and felt very sorry for myself with all these negative thoughts careering around my head. I should add I was having other troubles at the time and so was feeling low as it was. I burst into tears.

I walked round to the local train station and sat on the stairs. There was a homeless guy sitting there begging for change. Unprompted he walked over and sat down.

He asked me what was wrong and I explained, and I also told him about my other troubles too (depression and stuff if you must know). He put his arm around me and reassured me that I was probably worrying excessively and that I wouldn’t be chucked out. That everything would be fine.

He said with a big smile “Come on mate, stop crying - it can’t be that bad. You could be like me!”.

Still in tears I burst out laughing and felt totally different straight away. I could see his point. I had acted like a stupid idiot and was feeling sorry for myself. This guy was homeless and destitute but still had great compasssion and sense of humour! Get some perspective you tit.

Just then my friend came round the corner and saw the state I was in, still crying but laughing too with a homeless guy on the stairs of the station. I explained and he said that we should head home.

I wanted to thank the homeless guy and wanted to let him know that his kindness and humanity were amazing. So what did I say? “Sorry mate, I’d love to give you some change to thank you - but I spent all my money on drink” (I say all the right things, what an arse!).

He was saying it didn’t matter anyway but I asked my friend if he had any cash left and he gave the guy a few pounds.

The guy shook my hand and said “Good luck pal, hope it’s ok” and I said the same to him and walked away.

The next day I woke up and remembered what had happened. I was embarrassed for acting like such a tit and for unloading my problems onto the homeless guy without even asking him about his life and how he got to where he was.

Thinking about it today still brings a tear to my eye. Just shows you how good humans can be. I’ll never forget that guy and whenever I feel low or think people are selfish and stupid, I remember that night and what it taught me.

[Sorry for the length!]

Posted by Paul M on from Scotland 01/14 at 09:55 AM

G’morning all, and a wistful “hello” to the place JOS usually occupies. Missing your sparkle, Big Country.

TM, from last night: This site enables XML, so the rules for that apply.

begins an ital comment. No space between the end bracket and the first letter.
ends an ital comment. No space between the beginning bracket and the last letter.

Bold and underline are {b} and [u]. Unimaginitve, perhaps, but mnemonically sound.

Paul, from last night: As one who expensively lost his Southern accent to be taken seriously in the business world, the control issue you bring up rings with me on several levels. Suffice it to say that, as I’ve observed it through the years, in dealing with issues of identity, dialects and slang are shorthand for both the possessors and the listeners to pigeonhole each other.

You’d said you felt the novel was superior to the book in the case of Trainspotting...I might enjoy one more than the other, but what really is the grounds for comparison of one to the other? They’re just not doing the same things. I love novels, and prefer them to movies, because I have a need to get characters set in my head, and I don’t have a need to use someone else’s imagination to make pictures in my head explaining the story to me.

Chris, the Feds most assuredly know what to do with your English arse (correction noted, Jim!)...ever heard of a little outfit called “the Internal Revenue Service?” They KNOW how to serice you internally, while extrracting your revenue.

Helga, day two of ignoring you. >winkwink<

Joe and Amelopsis...art, literature, politics, spirituality, my GOD it’s like being in college again! Y’all are interesting people to hang with.

Owen manqué #1: McGowan’s disappearance is a big unsolved mystery and is sometimes brought up as evidence of Edison’s turpitude. I’d love to write a book about that one day...McGowan goes up the Amazon, discovers a means of “disappearing” himself, and uses it to make a huge killing on Edison’s financial success. Just now thinking about it, so no idea how this would work, but as usual, the urge to right a major wrong in the past impels me to think “novel.”

Paul #2: Isn’t it cool how a “chance” encounter can be so hugely important? I’m changed by your story, so there’s no way to doubt how much of an impact it had on you.

Posted by Mudge on from Dear, dead Austin 01/14 at 10:31 AM

Good morning expendable Nation,
Long time lurker , second time commenter here with another story of a childhood “schooling”.

When I was just a young prick (about 8 or 9), my parents became somewhat obsessed with “integrating” me into peer groups.

They would enrol me in all kinds of strange and unlikely activities. A membership at the Y had my brother and myself gone for Saturdays full of gymnastics and judo. I enjoyed my “Y” time because all of the sports were individual in nature.
( I never learned to like team sports until I realized I was the only kid my age who could consistently hit homeruns, but that’s a different story).

My parents came up with the odd and unsubstantiated idea that I was into herd participation and signed me up for the Boy Scouts.

While I loved my time alone sketching dragons and boobies and writing sci-fi short stories, parents seemed to have the idea that a child not running with the herd will be lost in the wilderness or eaten by said herd.

As a lil’dude you must first start out as a humiliatingly titled “Beaver Scout” and graduate slowly toward the lofty position of Boy scout.

I attended my first meeting ready to “dib dib dib and dob dob dob”* to keep my parents happy. * (part of the cultish chant that started every meeting).

Everybody was milling about in the school parking lot before the meeting and the “Beavers” were conspicuously separate from the “Boys”.
Never one for the conversations and petty angst of kids my age I stood on the side of the small circle listening to the dumb and violent consumer desires of young boys.

A small group of the Boy scouts approached us in an ominous fashion and the biggest, fattest and, no doubt, dumbest seemed to be their tribal leader.

Of course, as every parent fears, I was standing outside of the circle of competitors and was singled out by the Boy Scout gang leader.

“Hey pussy scout”, he yelled pointing my way, “C’mere!”
I didn’t move and tried to ignore the approaching pack of future abusers, yet was quickly encircled by them.

The leader of this little gang stepped forward and extended his fat, dirty fist.
I immediately noticed the young man had the rotten-tooth breath of your garden-variety hobo. He shook his little clenched stink fingers at me.
“C’mere, I want you to see this!” he barked with some abstract and undeserved authority.
“No thanks,” I replied and attempted to turn away. Of course I was held in the circle by his lackeys and turned to face his little pig hand.

”Look,” he extended his hand and opened it. It was empty but for dirt and the intangible commodity of bad intention. I looked at the hand then up at his scowling face, where an obscene smile had settled. All of this happened in a matter of seconds, so as his foot began to travel brusquely toward my groin there was no time to react.

I suppose it was a blessing that my “man groceries” hadn’t dropped into their shopping bag yet for as I lay on the ground clutching my unfinished balls my yet unrealized sex life seemed to become a distant hope dashed.

Aware of the group beat down that awaited any attempt at revenge, I stood up brushed of the driveway and slowly limped home.

I suppose there was a lesson to be learned but I never figured out quite how to define it.
Despite all of our technology and evolution, we are just shaved, upright, tribal apes who feed off of each other’s misery like the worst kind of vampire.

The dirty fist of the nut punter is out there waiting for all of us to just stand still and do nothing but gawk and enter the wild world of victimhood.

Posted by Youngfox on from Canada 01/14 at 10:34 AM

Oh great, TM! I forgot to put the quotes around “” and “” but there’s a great example of how nit-picky one has to be using this stuff! The computer is an idiot savant and does EXACTLY what we tell it to do...and I told it to do something without being careful enough to check my work before posting it!

Sigh. “Remember” to check your work carefully!

Posted by Mudge on from Dear, dead Austin 01/14 at 10:35 AM

I don’t know, Mickey. I don’t think I’m going to be able to take any more of your Saturday “stories” seriously until we have Smoking Gun check up on the veracity of them. I mean, you don’t even have Oprah’s seal of approval. Are you sure they aren’t really literature?

Posted by Rev Joe on from 01/14 at 10:50 AM

Oops - please pardon all spelling, punctuation and grammar errors in my above post.
I never do anything well first thing in the morning. Any future postings will be carefully checked.

Posted by Youngfox on from Canada 01/14 at 10:50 AM

G’morning, Paul, Mudge, Yougfox, and Rev. Joe.

It’s shaping up to be a “quality” Storytelling Saturday. Thanks, all for sharing. I’m running out now, but hope to comment in depth later.

Btw, Rev., and the Chinese say: “The palest ink is better than the best memory.” Right, Mudge?

Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 01/14 at 10:55 AM

I’m still recuperating from all the lifting I did yesterday, and needing to get on with packing, and I still can’t stay away.

MZ, you’re so very right. Doesn’t that aphorism ring true with everyone?

“Zebra” what is the Oracle trying to tell me...?

Posted by Mudge on from Dear, dead Austin 01/14 at 11:28 AM

Hello All MZ’ers.....Youngfox, I have a dumb question. Is your story true? Just hearing what you said has really brought up a lot of anger in me. I am old enough to know that there are evil people all around us, but everytime that I hear a story like yours I am shocked all over again. My daughter keeps telling me that I have to get over my belief in the goodness of humans. Maybe she is right.
Hi Mudge...the world is getting more and more upside-downer.
Hope that JOS and all others are not suffering too much today.
How many did we kill yesterday in Pakistan, 17 or 18 innocent civilians...killed by an unmanned drone maybe. Do the letters CIA mean “Cowards in Action”? These guys were afraid to confront the women with their children minding their own business in their home so they sent in unmanned drones to commit the war crimes.

Posted by RMJ on from Churchill 4 Prez Hdqts 01/14 at 11:31 AM

Back for a short update. RMJ, here’s the sad story: http://tinyurl.com/dqkf9

I have a bonus story. As some of you know, Michele and I finally got a DVD player a few weeks ago. However, with our ancient TV, the hook-up was complicated. So I went around the corner to Radio Shack...literally around the corner (it’s like that in America) and was told to buy a modulator and another cable. I did. The cost was rising. A few weeks passed and I only now found the time to try it out but I couldn’t make head or tail of the directions. Back to Radio Shack this morning where a different employee told me a different set of instructions and urged me to buy a different wire (I didn’t). I’m “about” thisclose to getting my money back on the whole mess and using my eMac for occasional DVD viewing. Hardly ideal...but it’ll have to do until we move (which should be within a month or two, I think). We’ll pull over two chairs and check out the films on my small computer screen. Not much, as hardships go...after all, we could live where the U.S. bombs are dropping.

Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 01/14 at 11:44 AM

Mickey, thanks for the link. Don’t you just love it how every time that the USA kills a bunch of innocent people the excuse is that they thought that they were killing a terrorist. Have you really found another apartment? Yep, tech problems are an issue. I am back to using my old film camera because no matter what I do with the digital one, it won’t delete and just keeps saying “memory full”.

Posted by RMJ on from Churchill 4 Prez Hdqts 01/14 at 11:54 AM

Thanks, RMJ. We’re going slowly with the apartment hunt. We’re not being tossed out and don’t wanna do something hasty. If there’s nothing we can comfortably afford to rent (or even buy, e.g. a cheap co-op), we may have to eventually leave Astoria or even New York. We’ll see.

For now, with Michele out of town at a physical therapy conference, I might go see a movie and escape for a bit.

Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 01/14 at 11:58 AM

Paul M re 2 - that’s an excellent story. I remember something similar involving guitars & tramps (seriously!) when I made my either debut or second appearance at a local music night. I flopped both times, but whichever night I spoke to the tramp - shit, I was just bummed at the whole thing. I passed the guy & we started talking (I think he asked about my guitar or something like that, & the words kept rolling from both of us).

I sat and shared my cigarettes with him & strummed a little - he enjoyed it & so did I! Funny, I’d set out to share a little music with someone, & the only receptive ear was from a homeless dude who was happy to maybe feel a little more like a human being than usual. It’s astonishing what you can learn from those on the peripheries.

Mudge re 3 - the IRS? I work & pay tax in England, mate, so they can kiss my mudflaps. Presumptuous bastards. But I do love how the government use their departments to bully people, & that the Feds can overstep any local authority - someone really ought to explain what federal means at some point!

BTW, the IRS know how to service my English arse? I didn’t know that “auditing” had a different meaning in the US!

Youngfox re 4 - that rings so true! Unwarranted aggression & pack mentalities are a curse. Thankfully my parents never tried to put me in the scouts or any of that shit - just not my sorta thing!

Posted by Chris Wood on from Manchester, England 01/14 at 12:00 PM

A long time ago, there was a bookstore in New York called Fiction Only. It was on Third Ave, between 27th and 28th, on the west side of the street. When I first came to NYC, I stayed with a friend who lived on Third and 29th, so I got familiar with the neighborhood…and its bars…and the haven I found at Fiction Only.

For the first two years I lived in NYC, I hung out at Albuquerque Eats , across the street and up a half-block from Fiction Only. The bartender was Jane Langton the mystery writer’s son, and a sexy studly ornament to the bar-back he was. I was always too shy to come on to him because he was out of my love-league and I felt so rattled and unmoored, moving from Austin to THE BIG CITY. I felt no such shyness about his boss, though, and came on to him like gangbusters one night as the place was closing. Enough to say it worked.

Peter and I had a tiny affairlet, and it was a lot of fun…because he was “straight,” we conducted most of it in Fiction Only. I’m not inconspicuous, being taller than most and possessing then a full head of curly red hair, so when I got off work and headed to the store, Peter would need a break and run over to Fiction Only. (Like he was fooling anyone…if I was visible to him, what did the other folks there have, hysterical blindness?)

It was a densely packed place, lots of shelves of nothing but novels novels novels, short story collections, and the accumulated brilliance of humankind. I found so many wonderful classics there, the Virago series of neglected woman writers and the heavenly Bantam New Fiction series and small-press gems like Every Man a King and The Menaced Assassin. I sat in a wicker chair, always a nerve-wracking experience for me, leafing through beautiful, failed, experimental, popular, obscure storytellers’ stories for as long as it took Peter to get over there. Then we talked and talked and talked. I got him interested in literature he’d never have even encountered, given his unmotivated personality (Catholic school left him unwilling to read anything not required by his job). He kept asking me how I knew all this stuff I was talking to him about…I pointed at the shelves and said, “I read a lot.”

When our affair ended was when Fiction Only closed. It wasn’t like we “did it” in there, that was all at my place, but we connected with each other there in a way that was more important than sex. We debated whether That Lady was really a classic or just had the good fortune to be written by a woman…whether Ivy Compton-Burnett was more technically gifted than Sylvia Townsend Warner after we’d been laughing over the fact that o many wirters have these weird triple-barreled names…all the while getting to know corners of each other that weren’t available to just anyone.

I guess it shows how big a biblioholic I am that even my hook-ups center on books. I’ve had many a first (and last) date and Buns & Nubile because if a guy can’t find something to occupy him in a place like that, he’s not gonna make it onto the dating roster. I bore too easily, and he’s likely to be bored witless by me anyway.

But more than anything else, I came (!) away from that time more sure of myself than I ever had been before, more sure that I was onto something with my love of books, and writing, and all the madness around it. I felt understood and loved for that time, and all because of novels.

Posted by Mudge on from Dear, dead Austin 01/14 at 12:03 PM

Buns & Nubile - I love that! Being a bibliophile is a great thing, & you should certainly celebrate it! I wish more of the people I met were dedicated bookworms. Funny how people say they would like to read more but can’t find the time, whereas they can easily watch hours of mind numbing crap on TV!

Celebrity big brother is on again in England, & I shudder to see how many colleagues of mine are glued to it ... ugh!

Posted by Chris Wood on from Manchester, England 01/14 at 12:13 PM

MZ - I have an Emac as well, & while I don’t watch DVDs on it I do love it for music. Not wishing you to get more entangled with horrendous technical matters, but if you can find the time & $ to buy some additional speakers, they are worth every penny. It’s great to have such a huge selection of music available at the click of a mouse as I write - it really makes such a difference! Digital music is one part of technology that makes me grin from ear to ear. Love it, love it, love it.

So if I can recommend it to everyone, if you don’t have Itunes on your computer (I believe it’s free) so you can put all your cds in one place, I think you really are missing a treat. Unless of course you have an amazing stereo.

Odd thing about materialism - last year I was in a stereo shop to buy replacement headphone & a bored salesman insisted my friend & I listen to “the world’s best stereo.” We spent about an hour being blown away by this incredible system - at the end he told us it cost 18,000 quid (what’s that, about $30,000?). Naturally I didn’t buy (odd, that!) but I can tell you, anyone who could afford it would get value for money. It was truly astonishing. I don’t hanker after luxurious items at all often, but that really did make my head spin far more than all the fast cars & big houses I’ve ever seen.

Posted by Chris Wood on from Manchester, England 01/14 at 12:20 PM

Youngfox #4: I was in Indian Guides, a similar thing...about as successful an experience as you had. HATED it. I was different (smart, queer) and the pack sensed it and responded as one would expect.

Rev Joe #6: They’re literature, all right! Factual, schmactual. Oprah’s Kiss of Death can float away on my farting breeze.

RMJ #10: Convenient, that war on terror. Covers up (oops! I mean “facilitates fictionalization of") all sorts of behavior that wouls and should outrage those whose name it’s done in. (Inelegantly phrased, sorry.)

MZ #11: Silly vegan. They’re forcing you into buying a new TV! They’re so darn cheap at this point, it’s silly to hang onto your old one...just throw it away!

BTW, you’ll have to toss it before year-end anyway. The new broadcast standards come online in October (I think), and any non-cable ready (analog) TV won’t receive the new digital signal the FCC has mandated. No, I’m not joking. TV sales have been pretty much flat until the HD revolution, and that wasn’t as strong a sales boost as folks hoped, so presto! Obsolescence for analog TVs by fiat!

#13: Ugh. OOof. I hate to think of you and Michele having to leave your home! Househunting fortune mojo and whammy coming up.

Chris #14: “It’s astonishing what you can learn from those on the peripheries.” There’s a nice subtext to “peripheral vision,” isn’t there?

And your taxes to HM Inland Revenue, given the close co-operation our countries are touting, could be the means of the trans-Atlantic bu-fu, eh what?

Mudge #15: oh shut up already. No one cares.

Posted by Mudge on from Dear, dead Austin 01/14 at 12:28 PM

Yes RMJ (#10) - it is absolutely true.
(if sincerely asked, there is no such thing as a dumb question, only dumb answers like this one)

You should never doubt the goodness of people because there are good people everywhere!

In a balanced universe (it’s all about balance) there are just as many evil people.

Our world suffers from an imbalance right now but the struggle continues in every word and deed.

When I hear rancid ignorance and despicable bigotry spill forth from the American public all I have to do is read an article by Rosemarie Jackowski (or Mickey Z) to realize that the good people of America are in a long struggle to achieve equilibrium.

Retaining your “goodness” while avoiding victimhood is yet another of life’s difficult balancing acts, (for me anyway), but it is the unavoidable task of decent humans.

Mudge (#18) , Indian Scouts? Did they teach you to make a good curry vindaloo or work at a call centre?

Posted by Youngfox on from Canada 01/14 at 01:30 PM

Mudge - #2. Re: book vs film. You have a point, movies can never be the same as books so it’s pointless to compare. There’s a great interview with Welsh that where he talks about why he loved the way the film was presented. http://tinyurl.com/cge9w

Youngfox. First a hello to a another recent delurker. Your story in #3 gives mine a perfect counterpoint. I’m under no illusions. I’ve came across plenty of people who are hell bent on destruction, violence and full of hatred. But I still try to believe there is some reason for this and that through education and love they could be converted. It’s hard and I struggle with misanthropy and despair a lot.

Here’s one of my favourite quotes I try to remember when I feel this way -

“To our most bitter opponents we say: We shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to endure suffering. We shall meet your physical force with soul force. Do to us what you will, and we shall continue to love you. We cannot in all good conscience obey unjust laws, because non-cooperation with evil is as much a moral obligation as is cooperation with good. Throw us in jail, and we shall still love you. Bomb our homes and threaten our children and we shall still love you. Send your hooded perpetrators of violence into our community at the midnight hour and beat us and leave us half dead, and we shall still love you. But be assured that we will wear you down by our capacity to suffer. One day we shall win freedom, but not only for ourselves. We shall so appeal to your heart and conscience that we shall win you in the process, and our victory will be a double victory” - Martin Luther King

Posted by Paul M on from Scotland 01/14 at 02:15 PM

Good day MZ and to all the Expendables.

MZ “Annie Black Cock” ... I’m still laughing. Hilarious. I am truly sorry about yours & Michele’s apartment woes. You mention you might end up leaving NY, if by some long shot you mean the state rather than just the city, Ontario’s not that far! Feel free to visit for a preliminary assesment of immigration anytime

Youngfox, Mudge I love your stories. Well, Youngfox, yours I don’t ‘love’ it’s a sad story, but I’m glad you shared it here. Paul I thought your story was particularly touching. A lesser person finding themselves feeling cracked (not entirely broken, but feeling like damaged goods none the less) would not have thought twice about the kindness offered to you that evening by a man who’s heart was bigger than his wallet.

Mudge I hope the packing is going well and your helpers are being helpful.

Rosemarie I think I personally tend to lean the way your daughter does - which is why I don’t warm to strangers easily - I’m too wary. However I do think I understand why the story might’ve roused angry feelings; it seems so much worse when children display mean hearted behaviour. It seems uglier somehow. One can only hope that the ‘nut punter’ grew into an adult that somewhere somehow is sharing thoughts on a board like this somewhere in the world. (Although I feel like Mickey’s place here is rather unique - who knows??)

Happy “days” to all and sundry, and maybe JOS will be able to drop by to share a story of his own - today it felt like the ‘windy city’ here. Out to enjoy the last of the sunshine now.

Oh and a much too hasty acknowledgment and thanks to the good vibes from Joe yesterday and Mudge this morning - I think ‘y’all’ (sorry that y’all sort of makes me want to giggle. Can’t help it. Maybe I really am more sheltered than I think?!) are interesting to hang out with too.

Honestly, I can’t say enough nice things about being able to hang out here and meet such interesting people in such sane and comfortable place. The physical distance between us all makes for varied and interesting conversations, but at the same time it would be nice if we could all walk down to our local and meet up. Hmm. One of these “days”!

Posted by Amelopsis on from Canada 01/14 at 04:44 PM

forgot -
Paul re# I would guess that many of us here struggle with despair and misanthropy perhaps more than many. It’s a sad consequence of realisation in today’s world, probably of yesterday’s and tomorrow’s too.
Thank you for sharing that MLK quote. It is indeed something from which to take some comfort.
Then there’s what Mickey reminded us of a little earlier: we could be living where the bombs are dropping, it could always be worse.

Posted by Amelopsis on from Canada 01/14 at 04:48 PM

Youngfox, I will print out your # 19 and keep it with me. I am undergoing an ordeal these days and am under a Court Order to go up to Essex Junction, not far from the Canadian border. It feels like I am involved in a death struggle with the State.
Paul M...Thanks for the MLK quote. I will NEVER reach that level of morality and goodness where I can love those who do evil...unfortunately my capacity to love those who do harm to others is on a rapid decline....approaching less than zero now.

Posted by RMJ on from Churchill 4 Prez Hdqts 01/14 at 04:49 PM

What? No comments on my acting career (sic)?

Hello from rainy Astoria. I just got back from a bargain matinee of Glory Road (http://tinyurl.com/aywqe). Formulaic sports film, for sure...but also a story of justice and courage. It blew me away and when the actual players spoke during the closing credits, it had me crying like a goddamned baby. Damn, I’ve become such a sentimental old fool. Anyway, I recommend it—not a great, ahem, film...but an example of what we can do together.

Youngfox: Thanks for your story. I must confess that in my life, I’ve been on both sides on such episodes. As Chris says, the pack mentality is frightening. Also, Chris: I don’t think I’ll be buying computer speakers yet. One more thing to make me feel like a moron.

Paul: Your story highlights yet another reason for us to stop demonizing the homeless. I have been fortunate to write for Street News, NY’s legendary homeless-run paper and this has taught me SO much.

Mudge: Love yer story...and as much as I hate to admit it, buying a TV is probably in my future. I haven’t done so in a long, long time. Our current set was a hand-me-down.

Empress: Thank you for your kind offer...and if you’re ever in my neighborhood.

RMJ: I’ll be posting more MLK quotes on Monday. We may or may not live up to his example (heck, not even he did), but didn’t someone once say something about our reach exceeding our grasp?

Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 01/14 at 05:18 PM

Mickey, I understand what you say but maybe you are just more virtuous than I can be these days. I look forward to the MLK Day here at Mickey’s but my soul needs a little more Malcolm X and WC.

Mudge, and another thing that has me going today is that the USA is forbidding Venezuela to buy planes from Spain. I don’t much care about the planes but the arrogance of the USA makes me sick.

Posted by RMJ on from Churchill 4 Prez Hdqts 01/14 at 05:39 PM

Ah yes, 6AM tomorrow Ward Churchill will be on Book TV, C-Span. We can start the day tomorrow with a smile.

Posted by RMJ on from Churchill 4 Prez Hdqts 01/14 at 07:21 PM

I am late today: it’s 1:54 pm in Daylesford, so it’s nearly midnight in NYC and 2:54 am in Scotland,etc. I hope both the cool observer and the expendables sleep well.
Beautiful summer day here: blue skies, sunshine and 75F.

Thanks for all those yarns!
Ciao,
Helga from down under

Posted by Helga Fremlin on from Daylesford, Australia 01/14 at 09:55 PM

But mudge: the very fact that you mention me in #3 proves that you don’t ignore me - or does it? Good to know that you feel better.
Here’s some updated information about the upcoming ChillOut Festival, regional Australia’s largest gay and lesbian festival:
http://chilloutfestival.com/2006/program.html.
Great entertainment guaranteed!

Posted by Helga Fremlin on from Daylesford, Australia 01/14 at 10:06 PM

Hi Helga. Not quite midnight here. More like 10 p.m. Either way, I’m signing off. I’ll see you all tomorrow. (Sorry, RMJ, but I won’t be up to see Ward on C-Span. I’m up so early all the time that i gotta take advantage of any chance to sleep in a bit.)

Posted by Mickey Z. on from Astoria 01/14 at 10:11 PM

Mickey, re that DVD/TV ‘bonus story’ of yours: we bought a new TV in late 2004 and then bought a DVD cum video player in mid-2005. After having tried to make head or tail of the instructions for a full ONE AND A HALF HOURS without success, we had to get help from the guy who installed our new computer and who had some other business to attend to in Daylesford a few days later. It took him about 5 minutes to connect TV and DVD player and to make it work, and he did not even have to look at the instructions. ROTFALMAO!!

Posted by Helga Fremlin on from Daylesford, Australia 01/14 at 10:21 PM

Mickey, now I realise that NYC is 16 hours behind eastern Australia at this time of the year, and not 14 hours.
Have a good night!

Posted by Helga Fremlin on from Daylesford, Australia 01/14 at 10:24 PM

I’ve been inspired, so I’ll try to squeak this story in.

About ten years ago I was waiting for the bus home after the standard mind numbing workday. It was around evening rush hour and all the nine to fivers were heading home. I noticed one fellow heading in my direction who was weaving slightly as he crossed a side street. I immediately assumed he was heading back from a happy hour and was a little worse for it. I shook my head and mentally derided him. Suddenly he lurched sideways. He tried to steady himself with an umbrella he was carrying but it slipped on the asphalt and he continued fall sideways, directly into oncoming traffic. He started to flail wildly and then fell into the road. There were any number of people walking by him who were closer than me and could have helped the fellow, but they were in cruise control and barely acknowledged him.

Well, I jumped up and into the street and interposed myself between the fallen man and oncoming traffic, waving the cars to stop. I reached down and grabbed the man’s arm and said, brilliantly, “ Are you OK?”
He said, “ Yeah, I’m fine.”
“It doesn’t look like it.” I replied.

As I hoisted him up, I could tell that he wasn’t drunk but appeared to be having some sort of seizure. I walked him out of the street and helped him sit on a bench near the bus stop. He was discombobulated, and had skinned his knee, but was in one piece. As he sat there I could see him returning from wherever he had gone. He sheepishly thanked me and assured me that he was alright. At that moment my bus pulled up. As I got on I turned to look at him. He was looking at me. He said, “Thank you.” It was a real one. The kind that come from deep within the eyes. I smiled at him and got on the bus.

Posted by Cart on from near Warshington DC 01/15 at 12:20 AM