Last evening, FB notified me I had a lot of memories with Jeffrey Malashock on this date. They started with the usual easy calls from a year ago, then plunged suddenly into six years ago, one after another for a while, including this, which is when it finally started making sense to me.
Cooder’s always been a favorite of mine, but when you
see the context below you’ll understand why he’s here.
Here’s how the spate of posts unfolded in the Memory planche, newest entry first, like a blog:
The Monica ❤️ was from the semi-quasi-daughter I helped raise from 12
and taught how to write and how to drive. We still kibbutz in each other’s
lives. One of the blessings of midlife failure.
Hmmm. Something’s pulling me back in time… After the Reichenbach Falls
I put the book aside and failed to read the next story for a couple of weeks,
the Empty House, where you learn he didn’t die. Nathan Dreyfuss was worse.
I wasn’t 10 yet when I did all these. Like eating popcorn but more filling.
Faves were Lord Nelson and the Swamp Fox. Why now though?
Early onset second childhood? April 24, 2020…?
This is the truck later resuscitated as the wheels of Johnny Dodge
on the night of the Punk City Massacre in 1985.
My Grandpa Miesse made me a sturdier replacement. Fell off that one too,
From my Napoleon Solo period. I used to write up reports of my heroics on
each episode. I even wore the coat and tie and shoulder holster rig into the
woods called Little Egypt out back. Danger danger danger.
Will and I didn’t have go-karts to play with down at the shore. Except at Wildwood,
where we always got thrown off the track for trying to wreck each other.
The gliders had to fill the gaps between rowboat shifts.
Last hit song I heard on the radio at home was Guantanamera. The Box Tops
were a small step toward joining my generation. The big step came when
I heard the first Doors album at low volume in the dark after lights out.
Monica bringing up an old dispute for old time’s sake.
I guess I provoked Monica first. Think this pic is here because South Street’s ‘
Theater of the Living Arts’ was ‘The Razor Café’ of the Punk City era.
I was there. He was a revelation. At one point he sat in a tattered old armchair
on stage and talked and sang like a guest in your living room.
He’ll be my big close here in a minute or two…
Also saw Vikings QB Joe Kapp on the verge of a road rage dustup in
Harvard Square. That horseshoe scar on his face is scary up close.
Baseball has been lost to me for a long time now. I saw Schmidt when he was still
getting ritually booed for his strikeouts. He was from Dayton. I admired him
even more after I lived there. A modest titan of the game.
Where we came in… When in the stack of memories I finally two and two together and
came up with COVID, which I haven’t written enough about, at least not personally.
April 24, 2020. Found this at Google:
I had a derisive mask I used as a profile pic for a while during the national lockdown. We survived okay because we don’t go out much anyway, we never got the SHOT, and the big learning point for me was that not only was academic science corrupt, but medical science was even worse. Glad I learned it but distressed so many don’t seem to have figured it out yet.
I think I actually wore it once to Delaware on a no-sales-tax run.
There’s a placeholder for my post about COVID in my ‘Death of the Republic’ website, but I was too distracted by post-Jan6 lawfare to go back and fill the hole. What I did do was this website: ‘How to Have Fun During the National Shutdown’. Still worth a look, I hope, for its movie recommendations.
The trip down youthful memory lane. Those years seem so far away in so many ways, except when they’re right up my nose when I wake from a troubled dream. What COVID was for everyone, I suspect. Why the Spanish flu dropped right out of history after the epidemic was over. The world population suffered a brief upward blip in deaths and a longer downward trend in important cultural effects.
As promised, I’ll forego more pontificating for now and hand the floor over to my favorite drunken genius of my adult years, which thankfully ended some time back…
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