Throw in a few of trips to Long Beach Island in August, September and last November, and a Dylan show at Temple U on November 9, which was interesting because I also attended a Dylan show there on November 9 in 1999. Both were very good shows but the latter, in November 2010, was quite different, with Dylan singing in the mathematical way he describes in Chronicles and hearing ‘Desolation Row’ done as a rocker. A great show!
But that was in Fall and I left you at Spring. Ah, yes, Spring and the reappearance of the ever-wondrous Ferd, who I had not seen since about 1992. Some idiot was yapping at me about the navy and I was reminded of the box of letters Ferd had sent from the ship, when he was naval. I had planned a writing project with them eventually and I wanted to compare what he wrote about the navy to what this un-named fuckwit did. So I looked at one of the letters. It was pretty funny.
That night I had a dream of Ferd standing in a doorway. In the dream, it was me but I knew it was him. One of those dream things. The next day, I tracked him down via internet, finding a few Ferdish laughs to be had such as a newspaper police section with a mention of him getting arrested for pointing a fake gun at an off duty cop. haha. Very smart thing to do, that, I thought. Get yourself shot being stupid.
But I called anyway and did not manage to catch him in a sober state for a bit. When that finally happened and he recognized my voice, he exclaimed, ‘I just had a dream about you.’ It is hard to even guesstimate how many trips the two us us took together but we did seem to fuck with ESP while doing it, so I can understand now why those CIA guys tried to use it to spy via ESP. Nonetheless, it is not controllable, though undeniably there.
Anyway, we have reverted to the old ways of partying as we know it. It is fun because, for the first time in my life I weigh less than he does. He is maybe 5’6″ and I am 6’4″. At 185 lbs, I might weigh the same but I do enjoy the chance to use some fat jokes that I have not dusted off for awhile. It is all in the gut, too. The classic beer belly. Ha.
When the article about meeting Burroughs and Ginsberg was published in Beatdom (www.beatdom.com), David used a postcard Ginsberg had sent me as the page illustration. Since it was printed in Beatdom, I could always look at it there, so I donated the card to the Allen Ginsberg Archives at Stony Brook University in New York. Since I was going to be in the Ginsy archives, I did a google search of the archives and discovered that I was already there – only at the Allen Ginsberg Archives at Stanford University in California. That made me feel good, like I will have left something when I am gone from this Earth. It gave me Beat cedentials from coast to coast!
In May, right around Beltane there was the Global Marijuana March on South Street in Philadelphia. That was something I always wanted to do. A NORML student group from nearby Kutztown was attending. I am not allowed to be a real member because I am not a student and not only am I older than them, I am older than their parents, too! But, I attended a few of the meetings and will likely support them, should they ever get around to fundraising efforts. I am not holding my breath on that one, however, since NORML only spends a max of $10,000 a year on lobbyists while the lobbyists for big pharma, NORML’s natural enemy, spend LITERALLY about two thousand times more, plunking down $123.9 million in just six months. With odds like that, NORML does not stand a chance nationally. MPP, the Marijuana Policy Project has lobbied with as much as $200,000 in one year and that is dwarfed by Big Pharma, as well. If I have learned anything, it is that money makes the world go around. I do not see any sense in passive activism which leads to nothing. NORML has been at it since Jimmy Carter was President (for him, I put a capital ‘P’ on the word, as opposed to when referring to Baccarat Obama)and now even the states that have pro-pot laws are endangered because Obama put Erik Holder free reign to say ‘fuck state laws’ like California’s Prop 19.
What really galls me is that the paper liberals who put Obama in office still think he is a good president, even though he has shown himself to be an outright liar and enemy of the people…a guy who brokered the largest arms deal in world history by selling $60 billion worth of arms to the Saudi’s, no less. The same idiots are voting for a candidate for Governor who has already said no to signing the active PA bills which would legalize medical use. They will never learn, I am sure. I will write in on election day, like any responsible citizen, and not just do what I am told.
The gardening left a lot to be desired this year. I am all about flowers since the cancer made me quit planting veggies…no sense in it. On the north side of my house, I had planted two varieties of fern on the north side of the house a few years ago and one variety never really ‘took’. In Spring, they came in brilliantly but the oppressive heat that ruled the Summer mad it impossible to keep up with dying plants, so I gave up.
The bee balm and other species of wildflower I put in years ago seem to have the desired affect, since there was no CCD (Colony Collapse Disorder) evident in the hive of bees that made a home someplace in my roof. I had to spray the hell out of them and had spray-spray drunk bees floating out of the attics for weeks. Maybe that is how CCD happens…people plant stuff to attract the bees and they stay there and become a nuisance, this becoming a nuisance which needs to die. You just can’t win with nature.
Between Hawk Mountain and the writing and the bit of what I could do in the yard, it was a lazy air conditioned Summer, marked by the arrival of one David S. Wills, fresh from a plane crash in Japan and a train breakdown in the fields of Pennsylvania, as well as a party in Hunter S. Thompson’s house and other interesting adventures which he writes about in his blog. I tried to show him the good side of America and especially New Jersey, where we saw the ocean from this side while drinking quite a lot and also made sure he had the perquisite NJ foodstuffs, real Italian pizza and the cheesesteak, a Philly fav. We stayed pretty well juiced up for the yen or eleven days he was here, sucking them down while discussing literature, illegal things, the state of Ferd and the behaviour of my kitties. Inkie was particularly entertaining as she kept trying to hop up onto the windowsill, hampered by her big belly. That much has not stopped.
Also exciting, and a thing that would make my mother proud, is that I influenced Mr. Wills into entering into his first Wall Street venture and we both became shareholders in a casino in Macau, which has been performing beautifully for us and will continue to do so. Macau took over the status of biggest gambling town in the world in 2006, when people gambled more money there than in Las Vegas and they have been spending more and more in Macau every year. Dig it!
I had not taken any hallucinogens since maybe 1997. Some mild acid popped up and Ferd and I tripped together, forty years after the first time we tripped together. It was different with my parents and family gone, partly chewed up by cancer, but it felt great and assures me of keeping an open mind for a few more years, at least.
During the visit by Mr. Wills, I dug out a box of first issue, first edition comic books by R Crumb, which I had totally forgotten I owned. I moved around a lot and they were in a box in my parent’s house. When I bought their house and sold it, after they died, I moved all the boxes into my extra bedrooms and I really have no idea what is in most of the boxes. The comics were a pleasant surprise. I am going to the comic con in Allentown this week to see if I can drum up a buyer. It seems like it always comes back around to me trying to sell some old books.
And that was the year that was. There are still a few days, dozens of drinks and a few parties before the 31st. If anything interesting happens, I will report it.