Overheard at Downtown Subscription

Out on the patio, a financially-comfortable looking couple has been sitting and drinking their coffee for a while, not speaking. She breaks the silence.

"What'd you buy?"
"A book."
"For Jerry?"
"I don't want to talk about Jerry right now."
"I don't intend to."
"I bought it as an act of kindness."


On the turntable: Treat Her Right, "Tied to the Tracks"

Reader's Picks

While I don't have any opinion on what I consider the year's best read, I'm absolutely certain about what I consider the worst. "The Belen Hitch," typed in 2005, is a mystery set in my hometown of Belen, NM. I thought it would be good ironic fun to read it while home over Xmas, but it left a foul taste that detracted some from all the good food of the day. The Belen of the book in no way resembles my hometown but for a couple of street names. The few settings that actually do exist (Harvey House, Hub Motel, Pete's Cafe) are in fact nothing like they are represented. It's as if the author did her research based on a single drive through town. This makes a greater sin out of her essentially bashing the town in print. Even this would be forgivable provided it were penned in decent prose. But it fails here too, being written in the usual cliche'd, tell-don't-show method of pop pap. Allow me to find certain inspiration in the bad prose to say that a golden turd is still a turd. Then I'll go further, mixing metaphors in order to call "The Belen Hitch" a shit sandwich, quoting one unnamed critic writing on Spinal Tap's misunderstood 1980 LP....


On the turntable: The Jam, "The Gift"

Dodge La Femme

Struggling through the autobiography of Mabel Dodge Luhan. I think I'd like her more if she liked herself less.


On the turntable: Rufus Wainwright, "Rufus Does Judy at Carnegie Hall"
On the nighttable: Mabel Dodge Luhan, "Movers and Shakers"

Thoughts on a Sunday

...Often in greeting someone with a "How ya Doin'?", I get back a "Doin' Good." It always makes me curious about what good they've done. Rescued a kitty from a tree? Helped an old woman cross the street? Saved orphans from a fire"
Next time, I'll ask...


...someday I hope to read a novel by Tim O'Brien while listening to a bluegrass CD by Tim O'Brien...


On the turntable: Tennessee Ernie Ford, "This Lusty Land"
On the nighttable: Arthur Kopecky, "Leaving New Buffalo Commune"

Dear Abbey

It's been a long while since I've read anything by that bard of the desert, ole Edward Abbey. "Down the River" is a fantastic book, close to genius but for a few weak pieces near the back of the book, and the political stuff now dated. The opening essay on Thoreau is magic. I think I'll have to plan a revisit to Walden in the near future...


On the turntable: Velvet Underground, "Quine Tapes"
On the nighttable: Edward Abbey, "Down the River"

After the Quake...

It's been quiet here the past two months, the voices found here other than my own. March 1st, Miki and I moved from our mountain home in Tesuque to the extreme southern edge of Santa Fe, the desert mere steps off our back door. Then, a week and a half later, Japan was in turmoil. I was unable to write anything, or barely even think. I stayed in the realm of feeling for a while. Then the words returned. I had a piece ready to post here, but chose instead to publish it in #quakebook. I'll eventually post the original, but for now you can read it in a shorter, less acerbic form here:

http://www.quakebook.org/buy-quakebook/

I also wrote a piece for the Write for Tohoku project, available here:

http://fortohoku.org/

These two digital books cost $9.95 each, which will provide you to with a good read while simultaneously supporting the survivors in Tohoku.


On the turntable: Jefferson Airplane: "The Volunteers Sessions"

Life Following Art

I am currently reading John Nichols New Mexico trilogy, which begins with The Milagro Beanfield War. I have read them before, during my first autumn in Japan, in an attempt to capture a little of that NM fall magic that I love so much.

I remember calling my folks back then and asking them to send the novels over. As they affixed the stamps to the package, it was like the release of water from an acequia, followed by a flood of books to follow over the next 15 years.


On the turntable: Grateful Dead, "1972 - 04 -14"