POTPOURRI

I always like that category on Jeopardy because you never know what the answer (that the contestant has to come up with the question for, Mike Douglas's brilliantly original idea) will have anything to do with so there's no preparing, no tiny adjustment to at least some sort of narrowing down of the possibilities. [DAMN, DID IT AGAIN, MERV GRIFFIN NOT MIKE DOUGLAS!]

It's often what's exciting about a lot of poetry as well, the unexpected juxtapositions (William Carlos Williams' famous dictum was "No idea but in things" which Ted Berrigan altered to express his own aesthetic—at least he did to me—as "No ideas but in juxtapositions")...

So I've got a couple of unrelated thoughts going around in my head this late December morning after a late night of writing on one of my many projects I always have going and which demand so much more editing and rewriting because of my post-brain-op related or just age related typing mistakes etc....

Anyway the question popped into my mind without even seeing a photo of her or hearing one of her songs which I might not even recognize these days anyway, does anyone else see Rhianna as the Dolly Parton of hiphop? (I think that may have been prompted by a "news" item headline in Huffington Post or somewhere on the net). [WOOPS! I MEANT NICKI MINAJ.]

And how this week alone, the first in December, has seen a couple of days here with abnormally warm—not just Spring-like but at times Summer-like—temperatures in between days so cold—and abnormally so for this time of year—that it might as well have been late January. And on those warm days walking, or trying to, in the nearby park (I've posted about so much) still encountering sidewalks blocked by yellow police caution tape where wires are still hanging down and trees are still fallen over and yet to be cut up like other spots where they have been but are still in piles waiting to be hauled away, and am once again amazed at how much and how quickly things can return or remain "normal" in one location while still being so abnormal in another, especially after the accumulating abnormal weather events caused by the climate changes wrought by global warming, even just from one street to another or one house to another.

And then, totally, or seemingly so, unrelated I thought of the holiday season when I was a kid and found these photos that best reflected that as music and movies were my escapes and these were the kinds of images I related to back then during this season for whatever personal and other reasons.  The first is of one of my favorite movie actresses when I was a very little boy, Jane Greer, mostly due to the great film noir movie (in my mind one of the top three or so) OUT OF THE PAST, but here seen in a shot when she was probably just a "starlet" in what passed for holiday humor in those days (and makes me think of my older brothers, two of whom joined the service in World War Two, and that thought brought on by yesterday's anniversary of the Pearl Harbor attack that defined the world I was born into a few months later)...

The second shot is of some of the big influences on my musical taste when I was a little boy (though this photo is obviously, from Frankie's hat, taken later in the 1950s when I was hitting puberty like my youngest is  now, bringing back so many memories from my own teenage years), mainly Louis Armstrong, Sinatra, Peggy Lee and Bing, the first and last of whom I thought I was too hip for by the time this photo was taken because I was by then playing "progressive jazz" and found them too square, but thankfully outgrew that prejudice and now see them as the iconic musical creators they were and remain...)

[and then after editing this post I see that spell check on my totally up to date brand new Word program still doesn;t recognize film noir or Huffington or...woops "doesn;t" as doesn't (I actually typed that with the semi-colon several times before I could finally get it correct!)...anyways...]

[Oh, and if you don't know what a "club coupe" was, it was a sexy (for that time era) style of automobile, which makes me think this starlet shot is after the war but before OUT OF THE PAST (1945 to 1949) because during the war they stopped production of cars in order to use the same factories and equipment and skills to make tanks and jeeps etc.]

SIMON SCHUCHAT READING (AND INTRO)

I had the honor of introducing Simon Schuchat at a poetry reading he did last night at The St. Mark's Poetry Project. Jess Mynes read before him (the most deadpan poetry reading I may have ever seen) and after the break I went to the podium to read some prepared remarks about how Simon and I had met when he was fifteen and I was twenty-seven in DC where I was teaching college and so was his mother.

I pointed out how at fifteen Simon was already bigger than most grown men and a better poet than many grown poets. And how he reminded me then of the poet and friend Ted Berrigan whose work I turned Simon on to. (I should have also pointed out that he was smarter than most as well.) And how Simon made his way to New York to meet Ted and other poets from the St. Mark's downtown scene and became an integral and vital part of it.

I forgot to mention that he went on to the University of Chicago (at 16) and the Chicago branch of the downtown New York poets world (in which Ted B. was the maestro) while putting out a magazine (Buffalo Stamps) but I did remember to mention the two small poetry books: SVELTE and BLUE SKIES (the former published by Richard Hell's Genesis grasp Press before he was calling himself Richard Hell, and the latter by Some Of Us Press a collectively run poetry publishing venture I started and ran with some DC poet friends) and all while he was still a teen.

I mentioned a few more books published over the years, including LIGHT AND SHADOW (from Annabel Lee's Vehicle Editions) and AT BASHOAN (from Coffee House Press) but not that they continued to display his "American idiom" poetic chops or that at thirty he seemed to pull a Rimbaud and disappear but actually went to work for the U.S. government overseas. Nor that not long after that the rise of the Internet had him connected to the poetry world even if it was from China or some other distant land.

Unfortunately, I was tired, my eyes were bothering me and I couldn't quite read my own introduction so tried to remember the main points but fumbled a few times and threw out my brain operation and then my cataracts as excuses (getting some heckling for it from Ron Padgett and Bob Holman, friendly heckling, I think). I know I reach for the brain op thing sometimes too readily to explain moments in which I get a little confused or forgetful or anxious but the reality is before the operation I didn't do that in those situations.

Bob Holman has been the master of introductions off the cuff for decades, as have many others, like Terence Winch. And many may be better at written ones than me. But though I almost always lacked the quick wit for repartee or rapid response in small situations, one on one or only a few, in front of live audiences that have numbered in the thousands a few times and in the hundreds many times, I always felt most at home and on top of my game being spontaneous.

That has changed. The good news is I think I was kind to everyone I encountered in person last night, something I've been trying to do all my life and am finally getting closer to. But I wish I had talked more about Simon's poetic gifts including as a translator (he read a few translations last night that were fine examples).

One of the things I like best about Simon's poetry is the variety of ways he approaches the poem, which I can't illustrate here because instead I want to share one of his early poems written when he was still a teenager (and included in an anthology I edited in the mid'70s called NONE OF THE ABOVE) and a more recent follow up to that poem:

THE MIRACLE OF SIMON SCHUCHAT

Howdy my names Simon
I'm almost twenty years old
I go to the University of Chicago

I take no shit from no one
Whatever that means
I'm trying out something new

When I was fourteen I won a poetry prize
Given by scholastic Magazine
Honorable Mention Junior Division

I been writing ever since
My favorite poet is John Ashbery
Do you think I write as good as him?



RETURN TO THE MIRACLE OF SIMON SCHUCHAT

hi my name's Simon
getting close to sixty

recently retired from Federal service
I swim 2K most mornings

I began as a teenage prodigy
I'm pleased to think I have no style

my Mandarin is much better than my Russian
but I translate poetry from both


[PS: For another taste of Simon's work try Tom Clark's blog Beyond The Pale here and The East Village Poetry Web here.]

[PPS: And for those who can't see what I referred to in a comment on Beyond The Pale as "Incredibly nuanced subtleties" and "beautifully constructed" just look at the sixth line in each of these poems which work as the fulcrum that changes the poem from some kind of naive or un-self aware bravado to in-on-the-joke-self-aware-and-self-controlled humble and intelligent observation of reality, see his other poetry for more of that.]

DAVE BRUBECK R.I.P.

I posted this video once before but worth watching and listening to again. The sound quality isn't as good as some YouTube videos of Brubeck and the original quartet or later versions, but the video is so trippy and his presence in it so solid and yet light at the same time it personifies to me what was so great about this composer and pianist jazz giant. The good news is he wasn't one of the ones cut down young and in fact made it to 91.

DOUBLE WHAMMY

MR GRANDSON

I missed my granddaughter in her elementary school's version of the Wizard of Oz last weekend (she was a Munchkin) but didn't miss some dance recitals etc.  She's a born performer. Unfortunately no video of it. Caught my grandson in a stage version of Clue that he was very funny in as Mr. Green but no video of that either. So as a proud grandpa I figured I'd share one of my grandson's videos. He does a lot of electronic music and hip hop—check out DO IT on YouTube, his most watched video that's just music actually, like this one: GOODNIGHT (got to listen til the end to get his sly comic timing):

APPLE/MICROSOFT JIVE

So I went to replace my MacBook Pro at the Apple store a week ago today, spent all that money and have had the week from gaobglesiftyehci hell. Well, maybe "hell" is too weak a word to describe corporate America (although in what way these corporations are any longer truly "American" is pretty much moot).

The nice young lady that sold it to me seemed very well informed about the product and what would be accomplished if I paid to have the data moved from my old laptop and cleaned so my youngest son could use it like it was brand new and replace a missing key and a few other things like save my printer info so I wouldn't have to reinstall that etc.

When I went to pick it up the next day another nice young lady who seemed very well informed said she didn't know what the other lady was talking about when I saw that the old computer was exactly how I'd brought it in. She said they didn't "clean" old computers when they transferred data or replace keys or save anything like the printer install etc. etc.

When I asked for advice or even help about downloading Word so I could do the main thing I do on my laptop which is write, she showed me a deal I could get by doing it online, better than what the store was offering even though I told her I'd had brain surgery and wasn't always on top of the technology so it would be much easier if it was like the old days when they would install it for you.

When I got the new computer home and tried to download the updated Word it wouldn't complete the process no matter how many ways I tried it. And when I tried to look at a video on YouTube (the one I eventually posted on my blog in my obit for Earl "Speedo" Carroll) it told me I needed to download a new Adobe Flash player so I clicked on where it said to download it and it too would not complete the process even after I gave it my credit card info and everything else it asked for.

I called Applecare which I had also paid for, but they said I had to call Microsoft about the problems downloading Word and they couldn't help me with the flash player either. I called the store where I bought it and the first young woman had talked me into paying for something called "One on One" because she assured me that would get me the new key and the old computer cleaned and the rest that it turned out they don't do according to the second young woman, they told me I could make an appointment for some other day because their one-on-one people were all booked up (this in a store that when I bought the thing had at least thirty people in red shirts serving customers but obviously they weren't knowledgeable enough to know what they were talking about since I'd already been misled twice).

I asked for a manager and they said they were busy so I went back to the store (not that close by) and asked for a manager there and they told me to wait for one of the older looking red shirted workers and finally another red shirt got me a different red shirted manager and he went to a different site than the computer had told me to download the flash player from and did it with no problems and then installed Microsoft Word from a package I paid for from the store and there was a notice to upgrade immediately which he said was normal because from the manufacturing to the store and then to the customer there was probably an upgrade and I should do it when I had some time.

So I tried that this morning, like maybe two hours ago and have been on the phone ever since. The download I assume took place, it shut down the computer and when it came back on there was one of my book manuscripts open and when I tried to close it the document went gray and the spinning little bars started and it wouldn't let me close it or minimize it or do anything with it. There was also a file in my trash and a stack of downloads in my dock. So I called Applecare and they made it clear they could do nothing about the Word problem, I had to call Microsoft, and the lady from Applecare said she had no idea why there was a file in my trash but if it wasn't there before I upgraded it must be something I should throw out so I did and the download stack on my dock was just there for my convenience as a shortcut even though I told her it wouldn't open so was useless.

Then I called Microsoft and got a robot which after much arguing with it I finally got a live person who asked in a deep accent if I was in the U.S. or Canada and then proceeded to misunderstand everything I said while I kept having trouble understanding what they were saying for twenty minutes until I gave up in frustration.

So, let me understand, there is no one among all the unemployed in the USA who could answer phones for Microsoft because that would cost a corporation with outsize profits and payouts and CEO salaries too much money? And with all the people Apple has working for it and their supposed image as the more user friendly product they can't find anyone who actually knows the product better than an old technodyslexic post brain op (I know a lot of you think I use that excuse too much but you would too if you had it to use and felt the way I do sometimes) old dude who just wants to write some books and blog and email (don;'t get me started on the new email format—on the old one when you hit the icon for the form to write a new email the address book was also there so you could open it and click on a name and it would appear but the new format doesn't do that so you have to open the address book now called "contacts" and get the address etc. or write the name in and it will appear which doesn't help when I'm writing to my poetry workshop group and want to address them all etc. etc. et-endlessly-cetera)...

Where are the teapartiers and rightwing conservatives who want to "take our country back" when it comes to giant corporations that exploit everyone from workers to customers so that profits continue to be greater than anything ever seen in times when there was much less economic inequality in this country and things seemed to work so much more smoothly and store clerks knew their business and when you called a store or company an actual person who also knew the business understood a Jersey accent even if theirs was Midwestern or Southern etc.

KURT VONNEGUT'S TIMEQUAKE & COLM TOIBIN'S BROOKLYN

I am very fortunate in many ways and one of them is that people give me books and I am a print junkie. I don't read novels much anymore, though I'm always reading a few just not as many as when I was younger. I generally read what people give me either because they think I'll like it because they did, or because it reminds them somehow of me, or because they or a friend of theirs wrote it and they want to share that (and maybe have me write something about it too I guess). But I usually forget who gave me what. I just want anyone who does to know I appreciate it even if I end up not digging the book as much as they thought or hoped I would.

I have a few big stacks of them next to my bed and read in a few of them every day, or actually night usually. I recently finished two. One of them is Kurt Vonnegut's TIMEQUAKE. I knew him and liked him a lot. He always treated me not only with respect but even at times with what seemed like deference. Maybe it was my political activism, though when I knew him best was when I was living in the city in the 1970s and early '80s and I suspect my arrogance in those days made me think it was my writing that made him treat me that way. But for all I know he treated everyone that way.

I was a giant fan of his books when he first started publishing his work before he became a literary figure and was just a paperback writer. CANARY IN A CATHOUSE was a book my first wife and I read together, usually me reading out loud, and fell in love with. So when I finally met him in Iowa City at the University in '66 it was a big thrill. But I have to admit I stopped reading him after a while.

In fact, I may have been one of the few people I knew who didn't totally dig SLAUGHTERHOUSE FIVE which put him on the literary map and forced his publishers to reissue all the earlier books in hardcover. I wanted less sci fi and more biography or more realistic fiction. I felt the same way reading TIMEQUAKE. I'm glad I read it because I enjoyed the biographical details that I hadn't read before or if I had didn't remember them so they seemed fresh.

I even enjoyed his take on the clan he came from and his up to date philosophizing.  But the sci fi alter ego and discursions (I don't think that's a word but it seems so much what I mean I'm leaving it, unlike the many words I've retyped because they weren't what I meant) I found distracting and even a waste of time and there seems to be less and less of that to spare.

Colm Toibin is an Irish writer whose work I know from The New Yorker and elsewhere. I never met the man but know he's won some literary prizes, or at least as the cover on his novel BROOKLYN has it has been "twice shortlisted for the Booker Prize"—a literary honor that seems to have eclipsed most others in recent years.

I can see why after reading BROOKLYN. His attention to detail and voice seem pretty accomplished and impressive, and his style is accessible but still very finely tuned so that you know, or at least I felt I did, the writer is a very learned man. The story of an Irish immigrant woman in Brooklyn post World War Two was compelling even though the focus was narrow and the drama extremely limited. More a snapshot than a film.

But in the end, I found the story's sudden resolution dissatisfying which made me feel a little bit tricked, like a promise had been broken somehow. And it made me think of so many novels I've read that get so much less attention and praise and all that goes into making a book sell well and yet deserve it so much more. I'm sure there are other books of his I might feel more satisfied by, but in the end, despite how much I enjoyed reading BROOKLYN up until the third act, so to speak, when I finally put it down it was with a yearning for not so much a different outcome but a different way of getting to the one that was used.

Hey, there's still lots more books to come, including the ones I'll be reading a little later from the stacks beside my bed. For which I am grateful as I am for these two no matter what I ultimately felt about them because in the end, I just dig reading what others have to say whether through novels or otherwise.