Niagra Falls!

[saltdawg]

ARRRGH! Back in the saddle.

I don't know if it was the stars or the moon or whatever-the-fuck, but last night was simply stupefying. And that is the word for it. Simply stupefying. It all started out with the baron basically guilted me into leaving my hovel to visit with the Sensei at AS220. He was hosting some sort of panel discussion about Palestinian and/or Iraqi art. Got there late so I didn't have any context with which to ruin or embarrass anyone in the room. So, what do you think I did? Yep. I started drinking bass. And "listening" to the academicians talk about communicating cross-culturally and the sanctity of the Arabic language and other crunchy clap-trap. Ten/fifteen years ago I would have been earnest in *listening* to the panel discussion and making a contribution to the discussion. But this time, this time I had my Osama bin laden lighter in my pocket. It has a picture of the world trade centers with a plane headed towards a little red LED that lights up when you open it up. I really gotta get a camera. Words don't do it justice. Anyhows, I had the Osama lighter in my pocket and I've felt the raw, barely restrained hatred of the teeming masses. I knew better than buy into the "if we could all just hold hands across the mid-east, everything will be all right" vibe of the discussion. So I drank. AS220 which was once the nexus standard muster spot, the one place I felt at home, now gives me violent panic attacks. I sat in the corner and drank bass as quickly as I could to kill that knot growing, bouncing in my gut. But not quickly enough. The deal was soon over and I had to talk and interact with people that I knew way back when and still pretend to be interested in my goings on. And me? I don't even bother to ask about them. Call me self important (you won't be the first) or callous, but whomever they are it's all the same auto-pilot work/pets/saw a good movie speech. Just different names for the things. It blows my mind that people can't muster up just ONE exciting anecdote to tell to a feller you ain't seen in years. I mean fuck. These are people that used to paint the town with freaking anti (or was it pro?) sandinista slogans. Used to break things. Like I do, you know? Anyways, after I made nice and said hello to the two guys I really wanted to speak with, I got all my gear ready to go. I walked out towards the 'Bar' and saw a remarkable facsimile of the nicest person I have ever known, A.K.A, The swirlie. I stopped my exodus short for a double take, and he hugged me. He lives in Staten Island now, and if it weren't for a bunch of happenstance, wouldn't have ended up 100 miles from providence (and as220) last night. I was ecstatic. And then. And then I'm ranting on, as was the fashion in my day, 'Raht raht raht...Suez canal...Raht rhat...Merchant Marines....etc...' and this girl sitting at the next table, sitting so her back is towards me, bolts out of her seat with such force that her chair nearly falls over. And GOOD GAWD! It's the Nihilist’s that I fell in love with way back in 1985(?) on a trip to England with the prince of haile st. She was from new Hampshire and ended up going to risd and all that crap and then somewhere, when I was in some state of decompensation, she dropped off the radar. She was going to be an entire post that I have been mulling over (of late whining has taken precedence) but in any case. She was one of those good friends that just kind of got lost somewheres and you have resigned yourself to never see again. I was, finally, truly happy during a visit home.

After gathering numbers and addresses, I headed out to the Decatur with the sensei and the tool painter. Once there I got to hold forth in my preferred forum. Sitting around a table with 5 or seven old friends telling sea stories and buying rounds of shots (a round of shots is not even in the etiquette books in RI. Well, at least not in the circles in which I run.) So we got drunker and I purposely missed my bus because one of the friends was an old flame. Hit the red fez and I pulled her into the bathroom after last call. And I said: Is it alright to kiss you yet?

And it was.

Comments

[disheah.livejournal.com]

True, but I give you time. :-)

Your talk of craziness, wild situations, and drunken-ness remind me of his writings.