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2005-11-22, 1:52 p.m.:
Journals I've read cover to cover recently: The latest Denver Quarterly, The Canary 4 (the first two poems in the latter blew the top right off of my head). At night I go and sit on a lawn chair in the garage and read either individual poems or excerpts from Voices from Chernobyl. I am absolutely exhausted, falling-down-down-down-in-a-deep-sleep exhausted, but we have 35 adults and 10 children due to arrive here at circa 2:00PM on Thanksgiving and there are 18,000 things to accomplish before then. Baby is sleeping and I need to take advantage of this by taking a shower, but I'm simply too exhausted to get up off the couch. If only I could lean back and have someone wash my hair for me, rinsing it again and again in warm water. 0 comments
2005-11-19, 3:51 p.m.:
1. The powder-blue or at least 1962-yellow Chevy Nova. Not sure what year I want my Nova from, feel the need for research coming on. 2. The 1974/6 Dodge Dart Swinger. Probably some terrifically, era-appropriate color would suffice, e.g. mullet brown or not-your-Daddy's-army Army green. Or that wonderful pale tan metallicky dun shade that can only be described as "champagne in the buff." I love these terrifically ugly color schemes. The interior would, of course, be either cream or black. You could fit a family of four on the bench front seat, and their four poor cousins (five if they're skinny) in the back. There would have to be a BMW engine involved if I ever wanted to drive the thing up the canyon .... 3. The mini. I like the sporty little stripey one - so optimistic, so cheerful in the face of big-ass SUV American road imperialism. So in-your-face London Rules. So I think it would have to be the Cooper Mini. I'm sure I would not be able to drive it a day between October and April each year around here. In fact, we'd probably have to mark the spot where we parked it because we won't see it again till the snow melts in the spring and the daffodils have reared their delicate little yellow heads. 3. The Toyota Land Cruiser, as soon as they make a hybrid. It's the car I really want. It's an SUV (which one needs here in the mountains for the clearance the kickassedness) but it's smallish, efficient. It's Japanese-made, like me. It's sort of silly looking in that the cabin sits up too high, like a double-decker bus. I like a car with a flaw. But we can't get it because it costs about one year's tuition at Bennington. And so, as of January, I'll be driving the 1999 Toyota 4Runner, which I'm quite happy about. It feels humble enough without smacking of privation. 4. So, back to the dream cars. I do love me a white 1964 Mustang with a cherry red leather interior. 5. A beautifully restored, put-out-to-pasture Checker Cab. You know, with the kind of cabin some passengers sit facing backwards in. Lots of knee room despite it all. I imagine a mini-bar stocked with icy cold Coronas and Coke Zeroes, but also - for those very special occasions - champagne on ice. Caviar and the meltest-in-your-mouth lox. There's an in-car phone with all the key local eateries on speed dial. There's satellite Internet. There's an integrated DVD player that shows "Sleepy Hollow" or "The Royal Tenenbaums" on demand. And, of course of course of course, a chauffeur. 'Cause actually, I hate driving. 6. My first car, the sky-blue Pontiac Ventura. With black vinyl upholstery. The thing cost $800, and my mom bought it for me because I'd just totalled her Honda Accord. And another car, and there was that damage done to the Metro bus .... But all that aside, I was thrilled to have my first car (I was 25). Love that ve-hi-cle though I did, I'm pretty sure its transmission had already given out by the time we drove it off the lot. It was all downhill from there, including many many breakdowns on the shoulder of 95/the Beltway between Baltimore and Bethesda. Well, I don't want to re-create the Ventura, but wanted to eulogize it a bit. And the 1979 Toyota Corolla (honey bee) that was both my second and my third car and, finally, the maroon Ford Ranger, which was possibly my most pleasurable vehicle. I felt at home in that baby, I felt bad-ass. I could haul things. I could collect leaves in my bed because I had a plastic bed liner. I could go to yard sales and do more than just look. I sat up high. I drove stick. I drank Big Gulps and drove stick. I had really dumb bumper stickers that read, "Not all who wander are lost" and "Support your local alien." I was a geek with delusions of down-home cred and it all felt great. 0 comments
2005-11-19, 11:58 a.m.:
Town Preacher Marquee Dept. (Week of Nov. 13-19):
Make sure your words are sweet - you might have to eat them. 0 comments
2005-11-15, 10:12 p.m.:
I'm just so annoyed. 0 comments
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