Sunday, November 23, 2008


Jack Lemmon identified the body of Ernie Kovacs after his car slid off the road while he was trying to light a cigar. His wife was too upset to do it.

Elizabeth Taylor stuck her hand down the throat of Montgomery Clift after his car accident in order to remove the teeth that were lodged there and were causing him to choke.

I never think of actors as saints, but sometimes people are saints and they love to act and they become really good at it and they go into acting and have wonderfully successful careers as actors.


Kenneth, who is a cashier at the Rite Aid Pharmacy on Hope Valley Road, thinks that I look like Elton John.

Kenneth forgot to mention the Rite Aid Sweepstakes Giveaway to me, and now he owes me a candy bar.


I will never know why I never ate rock candy
again. To be fair, I only ate it once–I bought
it in the pharmacy on 2nd Avenue and it came
in a beautiful blue box with orange trim and
I remember the crunchy sound that it made
as I chewed and nibbbled it on its short white
string. It was a pretty Saturday afternoon.

Slightly out of focus and behind
the rock candy’s crystalline form
and reflective prisms,

a beautiful young girl waits impatiently
at the counter while her mother buys her
a Lime Rickey. “Some day,” I think to myself,

“Some day I will marry that little girl,
and we will grow old together and have
children and grandchildren and a lovely home
and then we will get divorced, or, perhaps,

And yet none of this would ever come true.

In fact, I didn’t even actually chew and nibble
on the rock candy that day; I took a long look
at it, became terribly frightened, and threw it
in the rubbish bin as quietly as I could, running
away without looking up, without looking at
the rubbish bin, or the mother, or the pharmacist,
or that beautiful young girl sticking her tongue
out at me, all lime green and soft and pearly and
delicious and laughing and just chock filled with
knowledge and hate.

Friday, November 21, 2008


Henry and I talked
about the taste of blood.

“What do you think it tastes like?” I asked. “I think it tastes like tomato sauce.”

Tomato sauce tastes like like tomato sauce,” he said, “and blood is blood.”

I know it sounds dark, but Henry is happy. But not like me. He’s just he way he is. But maybe the way I will be. I mean

A while ago, I liked to write stories that started here and ended there. Now I am more like Henry. I like stories to start here, as usual, but I prefer it if they end here. If I am lucky, I will be happy, like Henry, and I will like it here, and stay and who knows? Maybe Henry will be happy, like me, over there.

IMAGE above of Picasso with a light pen, and Walt Disney behind him

® mr. crispy flotilla, 2008

Wednesday, November 19, 2008


Today I am sad.

When I was little, Frank Langella swept into beautiful women’s bedrooms and seduced them and sucked the blood from their necks, and now he is being helped out of a bathtub and toweled off by somebody else and he is standing shivering and naked in the bathtub and he has almost no behind! He needs help with bathing because it is too hard for him to do, even though he is a great actor. Although this, of course, is acting, too.

Today I am happy.


We all know that there is a utopia. But do we all know the other topias?

There's "Eutopia" and there's "Outopia" and there's "Heterotopia" and many other topias.

My utopia would be filled with love and actors. Burgess Meredith is an actor.

Today is Burgess Meredith’s birthday. If he were alive and liked to read the horoscope about himself, this is what he would read today:


You may have to put some upcoming travel plans on hold, today -- something is still up in the air, and you won't be able to make any firm plans until it comes down to earth and can be pinned down. Do not make any financial commitments, no matter how pressing your deadline may be. The good news is that by the end of the day things should at least be at a point where you can relax and believe that you will actually go on the trip -- but it might not be the original trip you envisioned.


You like to be in control and know you have all the details covered. Try something new today, and let your sweetie make the decisions. Hand over the reigns and see what happens.


You may be Burgess Meredith.


La La La Human Steps are twisty and turny and dizzy and loving and kissing and pirouetting and jetéing and, well, amazing.

I don’t care that David Bowie gets up every day at 6:00 AM but now I know.

A good feeling about something is as good as it gets. I have, for example a good feeling now, about Peawoopiewoopiewoopiewoopie Groove Bicycles.

It's 6:00 AM and David Bowie is probably up by now.


Today I said Wyrd Oft nero∞ unfaegne eorl.

Oops wait.

I mean, “Unless he is really doomed, fortune is apt to favor the man who keeps his nerve.”

Did I write a poem with Jughead in it today? Yes I did.

I wrote a poem with blue bonnets, fistfuls of daisies, 5 & 10¢ stores, quarter note tattooes, biceps, The Marriage of Figaro, Hell, and Jughead–today.

Today I decided I will edit it tomorrow, but keep in the daisies, the Jughead, the Marriage of Figaro, but remain undecided about Hell, the biceps, and the 5 & 10¢ stores.

Today I am scared to death, as usual.

Sunday, November 16, 2008



I like to eat pie but I seldom do.

I am thinking of pie right now. I bet it is apple.


We can’t solve our problems entirely, but if we try to one by one, like slices of apple pie that you slice and eat.


The man at the pizza parlor always smiles and acts like he knows me. I don’t mind. I like garlic, it is cold outside. Next.


I used to stay home sick and watch this old TV show about the South. At some point when I grew up I realized that it was actually filmed in Hollywood and not in the South but once I realized that I forgot it almost immediately. I trained my mind to forget and it did. And so when I watched the show and I would see lavender by the side of the road or chaparral or a tumbleweed I wouldn’t say Uh Oh a tumbleweed I would just pretend it wasn’t there. And when a man would call out to his girlfriend Thelma Lou one sunny day on Main Street and ask her Would you like to go to the picture show on Saturday and his voice would echo on the sound stage, again I would exercise my powers of concentration and say to myself: I don’t hear an echo, do you? I bet Thelma Lou will go to the picture show on Saturday after all, even though she is angry for the comments he made about her dress, which was a very attractive dress, I would say to myself. Watch out for the tumbleweeds, I would say, but they always acted like they weren’t even there.



I have is that it is almost impossible for me to ignore anything now: echoes, pretend streets, chapparal, Hollywood, Thelma Lou, lavender.


In THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN, Scott Carey stands at the top of the stairs, the size of a child, filled with pain. You can see through his body, and you can see the wall behind him.

The Incredible Shrinking Man isn’t really shrinking.

The Incredible Shrinking Man isn’t really in pain.

FACT: someone paid The Incredible Shrinking Man to act as though he is, although, again, he isn’t shrinking.

He is perhaps in pain. It’s hard to say with people.


My first job ever was putting up storm shutters before a hurricane came and it was for $1 a day. I remember looking at the dollar and thinking “It’s just a dollar.” Who in the world would fall in love with some one who made one dollar a day putting up storm shutters? Well, Cristina Edwards kissed me a week later and her lips tasted like peanut butter. I think I know what love is.


No, it is cherry pie. It is cherry pie that I am thinking about. Cherry pie because I think about it but I never eat it. Pie, problems, life, eating pie, divided pie. Things you never eat.

If you divide the problems of your like into pie slices, and ate one slice, the sum of all of my problems would probably be the very same pie just before you did.

all artwork, including handsome monsters but not crinkly devilish types, ® mr. crispy flotilla, 2008

Saturday, November 15, 2008


Today I read about Lee Harvey Oswald.

Lee Harvey Oswald was bored in Minsk, and Lee Harvey Oswald said: “There are no nightclubs or bowling alleys here...”

Thursday, November 13, 2008


Today I made a telephone call.

Today I looked at Harpers November 1957 issue to try to figure out what age of phone call it was but it didn't fit into any of them.

Here's what I discovered about the ages of telephone calls today:

AGE ONE: lusty newcomer / wide-eyed wonder

AGE TWO: it is necessary to grow up / having particular pals

AGE THREE: two happy teenage hearts when she says "I'd love to go"

AGE FOUR: two starry-eyed young people starting a life together

AGE FIVE: earning a living / speedy, willing, ever-present helper

INTERMISSION: Dial M for Murder is on television tonight

AGE SIX: raising a family / how did we ever manage without it

AGE SEVEN: grandma / the cycle of life / sadness at the cycle of life / my god what happens next


Today I wondered if “The White Secret of the Sicilian Planet” may be the name of a wine, I don’t know. If it is, I am happy.

Today I realized Samuel Beckett is the easiest writer in the world to draw pictures of.

Today I discovered that 1800º f is the temperature of jet engines and the proper temperature for searing a ribeye.

1800ºf is the temperature of my dreams.

Who am I kidding? 1800ºf isn’t the temperature of my dreams. 98.6ºf is the temperature of my dreams.

Some chefs say that you should put salt on your ribeye before searing it, others say you shouldn't. Some chefs get so excited about it that they scream NON or OUI.


Today I wondered if Irish Soda Bread had cinnamon in it and so I looked it up. It doesn’t.

Irish Soda Bread might just taste good with apple butter on it.

Apple butter is something that seems right to have as a kid and never have again unless you are about sixty years old and in the mood to remember eating apple butter, which is delicious.

Irish Soda Bread is almost sweet and a nice thing to have with company or family but it isn’t a good idea to offer it while using an Irish accent especially if you aren’t very good at Irish accents and your Irish accent sounds more like a pirate than someone from Ireland, especially in front of your family and especially if you have young children.

Monday, November 10, 2008


Tim and Pete and Ray and Rayenne and I all voted which Moody Blue would age the best and we all got it wrong because we assumed that it would be Ray Thomas with his smoldering good looks and aqualine jawline and intensity not to mention his raven black hair and the mustache that we figured he would lose by now but we were all wrong because it was John Lodge which was quite a surprise really and Ray Thomas hair was fluffy and blow dried and he still hasn’t lost the mustache.

1968-2008 is a really long time to have a mustache.

Saturday, November 08, 2008


“The Yantra is something which can hold the mind to a form much as in the less organized way one sees pictures in the glowing embers of a fire or cloud" is what the Moody Blues said in the liner notes to their 1968 album IN SEARCH OF THE LOST CHORD the one with the old man and skull and embryo and fiery outstretched arms and swirling drippy words on it that Pete gave me today because the record inside was warped.


‘Hispanola’ is really Haiti and the Dominican Republic, but ‘Hispanola’ sounds funny, ‘Haiti and the Dominican Republic’ sounds serious.

Reading elementary school history books can be soothing.

I forgot the term ‘unisex,’ but I remembered it when someone asked what ‘biosexual’ meant, even though they meant ‘unisex.’

Now ‘unisex’ is nostalgic, and a little bit sad.

Speaking of nostalgia, ‘Hammers and Nails’ by Johnny Cash and the Statler Brothers always makes me feel warm and happy and loved, like watching the first season of the Andy Griffith show, although not quite THAT loved.

Abbie Hoffman spoke really fast.


Today I discovered that Emily Post played the banjo.

Today I discovered that movies about monster monoliths aren’t very scary, they’re just about big monoliths that turn people into little monoliths.

Today I realized that you should never take drugs with the letter “X” in them.

Thursday, November 06, 2008


Today I discovered that Alfred Hitchcock only had sex one time in his life. One time. Count ‘em: one.


Today I thought a lot about James Bond.

In Her Majesty’s Secret Service, Blofeld hypnotizes a saucy young lady into loving chickens. He hypnotizes her through the use of both groovy-coloured swirling neon and paisley lights and his seductive, deep baritone voice.

The next thing you know, she isn’t allergic to chickens anymore, she loves chickens.

Today I received a card in the mail. It had three grey stones on a white table, large, medium, and then, small.


Today I wanted to see what an article about orchids would look like in Eesti.

Suurel osal käpalistest areneb õietolm väikestes kurikakujulistes moodustistes, mida kutsutakse pollinaarumideks.


Today I wondered why I care so much about how tall people are.

Bela Lugosi was 6’ 1”.

Bela Lugosi, I read today, was buried in his Dracula cloak.

Bela Lugosi didn't really want to be buried in his Dracula cloak.

Today I wondered if I am just about the only person who didn’t know that Bela Lugosi was buried in his Dracula cloak.


Today stocks slid on gloomy news.

Today I was discouraged to discover that Jello Instant Pudding isn’t really instant. It takes two minutes of whisking before anything happens at all. After two minutes, I usually get a pain in my right pectoral muscle if I use my right whisking hand to whisk, but at least by then it is rich and creamy and delicious chocolate pudding.

Today I almost said vampire actor Bela Lugosi when I meant to say House Speaker Nancy Pelosi.

I made that last one up today.


Today, or rather, last night, I looked around Seventh Street and said, OH MY! You are all still here: Candice and Tim and Carlton. I remembered all their names and I said Carlton are you still with Bear because Bear and Carlton were living together and Carlton said, Why don’t you just ask if I am still with my husband and I said I never know how to say that and then I said you know it has been 15 years hasn’t it and Carlton said No, Dear, 20 and then I woke up and felt wonderful.


Today I discovered that Thomas Jefferson was human.

In Norway, the municipal trash collectors wear bright red jerseys and matching caps and are on some of the postcards for some reason.

According to The Incredible Shrinking Man, God feels that there is no such thing as zero.
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