1231
It should be against the law for cute young men to stroll on campus with an erection clearly noticeable in the front of their shorts. I saw such a thing the day before Gemini arrived. On the other hand, maybe there should be a law forbidding them to stroll on campus unless they are in that condition. Wouldn't do much for my peace of mind, but would be interesting.Not much peace of mind lately, anyway, and that would definitely be a better reason not to have it than the ones which have contributed to my recent imbalance.
I am oddly discomforted by having no clothing except what I am wearing, a result of the disappearing locker. If I don't adjust, sensibly, then I'll just have to get a backpack and carry a second clothing option or get a locker after all. The more reasonable thing would be to just keep a twenty dollar bill tucked away at all times in case I am in some kind of urgent need for replacement clothes. But then I should do that at all times, anyway.
And as I have repeatedly told myself in this week since the locker disappeared, it really doesn't matter.
The Sleeptalker appeared in the game. He was calling himself "Ciro", but he quickly let me know who he was. I told him I didn't believe it, that the Sleeptalker wouldn't pick a name which sounded like a perfume or a nightclub. "We slept together next to a high school one night," he said. Sweet, to pick that example, the night before the morning of "I don't believe it happened, I was all drunk and everything." Very much sweeter than saying "we were dragged out of the beach park in handcuffs together."
He didn't have two dollars for the bus fare into town (being out in the country, again). "Don't you have anyone who would loan you two dollars?" I asked, since I certainly would have given him the money to re-pay it, and to get home again (wherever home may be). He said maybe his sister, but I suspect his sister hears the word "loan" from him the same way I hear it from Angelo. In any case, he hasn't yet been seen, nor has he again been in the game.
And now it's Gemini, the Season of the Sleeptalker.
1232
Murder in the Secluded Grove ... again.I am sorry, Your Honour, didn't actually witness the deed. I was engrossed in my book, didn't notice that a certain black-and-white cat was stalking. I don't know what the unfortunate bird's excuse was for not paying attention, but the consequences were dire. I heard a frantic flapping of wings, looked up and saw feathers scattering. Then that certain black-and-white cat went running out of the grove with a body in its mouth.
Veron, the Serial Killer.
I've stopped feeding birds there because it's just too dangerous for them.
But happier news, much happier news from the grove. Lady Grey will not be producing more offspring. The Cat Lady managed to catch her, took her off to the vet to ensure her future infertility. I think Lady Grey's last batch must not have survived because they surely would have appeared by now. So I may be fortunately limited to providing only three cans of food a day.
It was Interim Week on campus, the libraries closed on the weekend preceding and the weekend following. On the first Sunday, though, I had the distraction of seeing "Troy" with Helen R. I wrote about it on hawaiithreads.com. I told Felix in my usual Saturday postcard that I was more fascinated by Brad's lips than his naked butt, but I did envy the photographer. I also complained in the postcard that I was "opera-bereft" for the week because I couldn't get through more than fifteen minutes of Carlisle Floyd's "Of Mice and Men".
After a time of relatively light, but entertaining reading, I found Margaret Atwood's The Robber Bride, which certainly wasn't light but impressive, if not really entertaining. Then in that same ten-cent collection appeared The French Lieutenant's Woman, that beautiful, melancholic, philosophic novel by John Fowles which I read for the second time. That prompted me to search for a copy of his The Magus. One of the great novels of the twentieth century, in a revised version with a "foreword" discussing the revisions. Also a book which often causes something close to vertigo so while reading it I actually spent more time not reading than usual.
1233
... the rules demanded that anyone who hid his hands under the blanket be awakened and forced to take them out.Solzhenitsyn: The First Circle
Oh, a nice new gimmick for the Black Hole (not that we have much need for blankets at this time of the year). What, of course, we do want at the Black Hole is routine, routine, routine. Make the rules, enforce the rules, don't do silly variations now and then.
As I've noted before, they have bottles of some evil-smelling "disinfectant" and a supply of rags. Some people, every night, spray their mats and diligently wipe them off with the rags. I figure that if I'm going to get nasty germs at the Black Hole, I'm far more likely to get them from the stairway rail than from a mat someone else slept on the night before. But one night last week the person who takes name and mat number insisted upon spraying the mat. One side only. When I said it didn't matter, I just spread my beachtowel over the mat, he threatened to throw me out if I didn't co-operate. Bit of an over-reaction, that, but I suppose he had been listening to similar protests for some time. So when he wasn't looking, I put the wet side of the mat down on the floor, spread my towel over the dry side, and went to sleep. Fortunately, that silly variation only lasted one night.
In the last days of a month, the place is bad enough without that kind of nonsense.
I read, with some amusement, the website CUHP: Researching Homelessness and Homeless Populations, where the phrase "unfit for human habitation" was used a number of times. Guess which place came to mind.
One recent evening, as usual, I got off at the bus stop before the Black Hole to enjoy a final smoke of the day and heard "can I have a cigarette?" I automatically said "no", then turned to see who had asked. Tanioka. Of course, I gave him one, but was saddened to see him arriving at the Black Hole. Has it gotten that much worse for those who sleep independently?
The end of an era. The "drugstore" has closed. This was a 24-hour videogame arcade (where I never saw anyone playing a game) and the main source of provisions for the Follies. I wonder where the Boys are shopping now?
I spoke too soon. I was sitting in the Secluded Grove on the morning of the last Tuesday in May, was watching my three children eating their breakfast. A tiny feline head appeared above the wall, looked at me with shock and disappeared. Then it reappeared to take a second look. Lady Grey has outdone herself. All kittens are adorable, but her last child is very special indeed. I don't know yet if it has siblings. Thus far, I've only seen it (can't yet guess which sex it is) and only on that morning. It's evidently still too young for solid food. But oh, I did instantly fall in love.
1234
1-2-3-4.A long-time character in this saga is about to disappear from the stage. His benefactor, at last, managed to get Joe Guam to the Social Security office and Joe has gotten a check for the time he has been eligible. So he is flying home to Guam next week. I'm very happy for him and hope he doesn't discover that "you can't go home again". (I didn't say anything about the possibility he might want to buy some new clothes before showing up at the airport, assume his benefactor will have all that under control)
Auf wiedersehen, Joe Guam.
The newest character in this saga made its second appearance on the last Saturday of May, for the first time ate a little solid food. It's much too soon to think of a name.
The Cat Lady came along, alas an hour too late, complained that she hasn't yet seen this sweetheart. But she has been bringing down some special milk-formula for Lady Grey, having felt awful for snatching mama for her vital operation without knowing there was a little baby who must have spent a terrifying night when mama was absent. The vet had assured the Cat Lady that the operation would not interfere with Lady Grey's ability to nurse the child, and that seems to be true (although I also shuddered when thinking about that little furry one without its mama for a night).
The Cat Lady may have been too late for the newest member of the family, but both Lady Grey and Andrew appeared at the top of the wall. They recognize her, too. I said, "greedy! you just had breakfast about an hour ago!" But, of course, they got a bonus.
She told me about some new "quadruplets" on campus. "No! I don't want to see them!" I said. Have enough to cope with already.
Silly Giuseppe made me cry with the finale of "La Battaglia di Legnano", so I wasn't opera-bereft this week. And next month they are going to broadcast "The Pearlfishers" so I will definitely be unavailable that Saturday afternoon. I heard some brief moments from Andre Previn's "Streetcar Named Desire" sung by the inimitable Fleming. From those moments, I doubt I shall much like the opera but would like to hear it at least once.
As for Solzhenitsyn's The First Circle, what can I say but "hard words, hard words."
1235
The holiday weekend, which despite the Solstice being still some days away tends to begin Summer in America, was pleasant. I went on Sunday with Helen R to see "Young Adam", a truly boring film, and on the holiday Monday to see "The Day After Tomorrow". Both films are discussed (by me and others) in the Big Picture section of hawaiithreads.com. Helen's report on the dreadful "Young Adam" is especially amusing.The Black Hole was pretty awful, as it always is in the last few days of the month. One night I even had to sleep in the "early wake-up area". The wake-up isn't the problem, I'm always out of there before their idea of "early" but there is one obnoxious person who sleeps in that area most of the time and although I was fortunate, managed to leave a space between him and me, I still had to listen to him for over an hour. People who have the least to say talk the most.
There are two! Yes, Lady Grey's other new child made its first appearance. Very people-shy, ducked back down behind the wall even if someone was just walking through the grove. The other one certainly has a hearty appetite, will no doubt eventually be quite a rival to Andrew who is very greedy. He gobbles down his can of food quickly and then nudges in on mama's. She's very patient, lets him get away with it. But happy family though they seem to be, I wonder if that small area can really support five cats, even if a crazy old man is bringing food every day.
A reader asked me to write more about the early Sixties NYC art world, so I sat for some time having thoughts about de Kooning and his wonderfully ugly paintings of women and .... decided not to write about it. Well, mostly, as Garrison Keillor says.
the tales