This is the second year in a row my old friend KTS has materialised on my birthday - though both occasions were coincidental to him I consider the visits a rare and splendid gift.
He & his wife stopped by on their way to Paris via Istanbul and it was great fun to show them my daily routine and take them on jetlagged walking tours: Bunhill Fields, the Barbican, the Tate Modern, Two Temple, Prufrock.
Please join me in sending happy birthday wishes to Susan, producer of Hipmama.com and good friend to us all!
Throughout the years her commitment to this site has been demonstrated in quiet, necessary, and critical ways. She has been a dependable and massively influential source of knowledge, technical expertise, and cultural observation. Her thoughtfulness, kindness, and patience are exemplary, and her humor in the midst of crisis is invaluable. I cannot exaggerate how important her contribution is and how much I respect and admire her.
I was talking to an old friend about a mutual acquaintance who stopped talking to me about ten years ago. She asked what happened between us, and I shrugged. "I don't know," I said. "I didn't do anything, so I can't comment."
There was a disbelieving double take. "You don't know what happened?"
"I was't around, I wasn't there. I was literally not in the country."
More probing, more shrugging. I said "I didn't steal her money, kick her dog, or fuck her boyfriend. Though I could have, I resisted. Therefore, I did nothing wrong."
I don't have any brothers or sisters, but Marisa comes as close to kin as possible without sharing DNA. We've known each other so long we often forget how we met, but the answer is music, the neighbourhood, life. We've traveled, toured, performed in strange places, had huge fun. The only point we ever disagree about is the nature of time. She thinks there is plenty available and tells me not to worry. I'm convinced that there isn't enough to accomplish everything that needs doing.
When my daughter was born, my younger brother and his girlfriend came to visit me in the hospital the very next day, traveling from Washington D.C., where they lived, to New Haven. I’d had an unexpected C-section and when they got there they asked me if there was anything I needed. I casually mentioned that a magazine or two might be nice as I had several days in the hospital ahead.
For those keeping score at home, my visit with the surgeon happened earlier this week.
The first puzzle of the appointment occurred when I asserted that I am allergic, or otherwise opposed, to pain medication.
The doctor seemed quite concerned, and suggested various options as I stared quizzically before halting the debate with the comment "Really, it will be fine. This stuff isn't what i would call 'pain.' I've had worse. It won't bother me."
London is a city largely without a view: there are very few hills, fewer tall buildings for the wandering public to ascend, and the river is bereft of commuter traffic.
For a person like me, who grew up on a peninsula between two mountain ranges, hiking up and down steep hills for even the smallest routine chores, using ferry boats as regular transportation, this is rather odd.
Aside from Anika visitors this week include Marcus (Sweden, France, SF, though you might remember him from Las Vegas escapades if this journal goes back that far), Andrey (encountered most recently in Austin TX but more frequently seen in Saarbrucken), Andreas (stumbled across him in Santa Barbara in January, normally found in various European capital cities), and
I have two children. I have two passports. Clearly, I should therefore get two Mother's Days.... right?
My daughter agreed but had to rush away for the weekend, telling her brother it was his turn to take care of the holiday. He however maintains that the prevalence of celebratory days cancel each other out, and thus, I do not deserve any attention at all.
Heavy sigh!
So the First Official Houseguest was. . . drum roll please. . . Stella!
The punk ethos is largely anti-heroic and as such does a disservice to pioneers and progenitors. We all want to pretend that we are self-invented, lawless, new. But we all have parents and protectors, we all need a place to start. Even if our work is about ripping it all up and starting again.
