After Thanksgiving dinner, a bunch of kids and grownups retreated downstairs to the rumpus room. By the time I got downstairs my brother and nephews were locked in a single wrestle knot rolling across the floor, with my sister-in-law and niece looking on. Occasionally a child would break free from the wrestle knot, grab a Lego-fashioned sword or other blunt piece of plastic, and beat on the other wrestlers. The sound was of giggling grunting, with an occasional, muffled "I'm gonna get you."

This went on for a while until the knot became intractible. I could see the back of my nephew's head and his ears were bright red. My brother threatened he was gonna upchuck, or fart. More gasping and giggling.

Suddenly, a flash of pink across the room: my niece busted out of her mom's lap, toddled like mad toward the sweaty ball, and flung herself on top, rosy dress fanning out in all directions.

He Must have Noticed That Lilt in My Step

The other day, as I went out to get lunch, 2 people (in 2 different locations) passed by real close to me and said, "mmm, sweetie."

Then, later that afternoon, a person passed by real close to me and said, "cunt."

Sorry it's been so long. I've been in lockdown mode. It takes a lot of energy to try to repress saying "Fuck!" on the job. No screaming "Goddammit!" when I can't find a file. No outward belching. I'm trying to be nice and dress nice.

There's DKNY around the corner. I told the salesman we'll make the best of friends.

We're playing at Pete's Candy Store tonight, and Annie has an art show on 19th Street before that. Perhaps you'd like to come out.

New Beginnings (ch'un)

Times of birth and growth start unseen, below the surface. Everything is dark and still unformed, yet teeming with motion. Difficulties and chaos loom. Despite this struggle, energy and resources are collected, and form begins to take shape. The young plant takes root, rises above the ground, and is brought to light.

--Hexagram #3, I Ching or Book of Changes



It's my last day in the office. I'm taking down all the pictures and postcards that I've collected over the past eight years. My nephew was born my second day of work; there's a pic of me holding him as an infant; now he can outrun me, tell better jokes, and beat me at Monopoly. Pictures overlap pictures. Another grinning nephew stands among pumpkins; a baby niece is plunked in an oversized pot surrounded by flowers; cats on the floor; cats pondering a lamp; a cat in a courtyard in Paris. An angel with a lute. Billie, Chaucer, Woody, Bessie, Ray, Janis, Bob, Uncle Walt. A 50's Tupperware party. Freud's office. Jill's winter trees. A card for Honeymoon. Andromeda chained to a rock, the serpent snaking around her with its jaws wide open. The Three Fates from the east pediment of the Parthenon. A pack of Teaberry gum. My favorite painting of the Annunciation in which, in the midst of being delivered the news of a miracle, Mary looks positively overwhelmed: who said the path to revelation and glory was easy. Kiki de Montparnasse cries round glass tears. Finally, a Kenneth Patchen painting:


NOW, WHEN I GET BACK HERE, I EXPECT TO FIND ALL OF YOU MARCHING THROUGH THE STREETS WITH GREAT BUNCHES OF WILDFLOWERS IN YOUR ARMS

Good afternoon. Have you voted yet? I voted. Everybody's voting. For that reason, no matter what else happens, I'll always remember this day fondly.