Monthly Archives: September 2011

Chapter 11. Sunlight, nature’s best disinfectant was clearing out the last few doppler shadows…

Sunlight, as nature’s best dis­in­fec­tant, was clear­ing out the last few doppler shad­ows bridg­ing the bel­li­cose scen­esters and hair­spray gob­lins al­ready on the lurk for the lapsed chances of­fered to the quick and the dead first and then to the able and the ea­ger still catch­ing up on some great es­cape plan as they race […]

Chapter 10. Elected to the Republican slate of delegates for Richard Nixon from the Great State of Tennessee…

Elected to the Republican slate of del­e­gates for Richard Nixon from the Great State of Tennessee, I was in no way a king­mak­er. After all, Richard Nixon raked in 5,378,704 votes in the pri­ma­ry or 86.92% of the votes cast, and 47,168,710 votes or 60.7% of those votes cast in the November gen­er­al, a pul­sat­ing land­slide vic­to­ry, mea­sur­ably […]

Chapter 9. Mediocrity, or powerhouse upstarts never appealed to this writer…

Mediocrity, or pow­er­house up­starts nev­er ap­pealed to this writer, my grow­ing pen­chant for ac­tu­al­i­ty ta­bles in every­thing that mat­tered, every­thing in its right­ful place, sport­ed vis­cer­al mus­cle all its own, but I was com­pelled to the awe­some place where rock sol­id dy­nas­ties swooned to the Icarian mys­ter­ies a sud­den­ly mol­e­c­u­lar un­der­dog brought in­to the scheme, a seem­ing­ly spon­ta­neous­ly […]

Chapter 8. When my firstborn left home, trimming the mouths to feed

When my first­born left home, trim­ming the mouths I had to feed from eight to sev­en, I cut back from four cups of rice to two. We ate rice near­ly every night for years. Sometimes with beans, some­times with a scram­bled meat dish. Lots of casseroles, too. Times were hard. Hello. My name is Peggy. I have known many, […]

Chapter 7. With this letter to Philip Dare I knew February was turning…

The laws in this city are clear­ly racist. All laws are racist. The law of grav­i­ty is racist. I am mak­ing this trip to Africa be­cause Washington is an in­ter­na­tion­al city, just like Tokyo, Nigeria or Israel. As may­or, I am an in­ter­na­tion­al sym­bol. Can you de­ny that to Africa? People have crit­i­cized me be­cause my se­cu­ri­ty de­tail is larg­er than the president’s. But you must ask your­self: are there more peo­ple who want to kill me than who want to kill the pres­i­dent? I can as­sure you there are. First, it was not a strip bar, it was an erot­ic club. And sec­ond, what can I say? I’m a night owl.

Chapter 6. Three nights before John Lennon was shot dead in front…

Three nights be­fore John Lennon was shot dead in front of the Dakota, and all the fret world mourned el bar­rio del cor­pus christi was rel­a­tive­ly qui­et to the most ca­su­al ob­serv­er, of whom I was one, bel­ly up to a sat­is­fied mind af­ter a quick hand­ful of tacos lengua and a wet bur­ri­to at Crackling Rosie’s end­ed the […]

Chapter 5. It was a story told by my mother to Paul that grabbed…

It was a sto­ry told by my moth­er to Paul over tea and cook­ies and I be­lieve some in­el­e­gant cheese that grabbed me by the Saskatchewans, pitch­ing me in­to a fever dossier and a full count I am prob­a­bly still suf­fer­ing con­sec­u­tive­ly this very day, near­ly sev­er­al thou­sand dawns of Cooling Earth lat­er. Why had she nev­er men­tioned this be­fore. […]

Chapter 4. Our dear Mrs. Middleton the Strict sent us home with a regenerative task…

Our dear Mrs. Middleton the Strict sent us home with a re­gen­er­a­tive task one fine spring af­ter­noon, crisp with the trav­el­ing song of way­ward dan­de­lions and in­vin­ci­ble coun­try singers drunk on the booze left un­de­liv­ered by the winds of tomorrow’s next sur­prise. Her thir­ty stu­dents were to ask each of our par­ents, and in those days, […]

Chapter 3. The Former Congressman Swore An Air Force Hospital…

The for­mer con­gress­man swore an Air Force hos­pi­tal had nev­er been lo­cat­ed in Palm Beach County. He was a home­town boy, an ha­bit­u­al ser­vant of the coun­ty un­til com­ing to Washington, knew every syn­chro­nized inch of that ex­cru­ci­at­ing­ly op­por­tunis­tic, glitz in­fest­ed, cap­ti­vat­ing, terse, par­alin­gusit­i­cal­ly vain but roy­al­ty free com­pound par­adise. But ever since the fer­al drug […]

Chapter 2. We’ll get to the official purposes of my morning…

We’ll get to the of­fi­cial pur­pos­es of my morn­ing rou­tine lat­er, but let me walk you through the ba­sics. Are you record­ing this? Come on peo­ple. Let’s get our sto­ry straight. Will some­body please shuf­fle me a freak­ing elec­tron­ic de­vice that will please on some non-sadistic lev­el work some mag­ic fuck job on our Greenwich Village […]