Hunting Hat:
My hunting hat, now warn by my friend Britton’s dad. Well, almost. Mine has a brim.
Gangs of New York:
The trailer for Martin Scorcese’s new film Gangs of New York looks fantastic but that’s what trailers do–make everything look fantastic. Still, I’ll buy a ticket when it rolls out around Christmas time. His films are consistantly more interesting than just about anyone else’s.
8th Night:
It’s the last night of Chanukah. All 8 candles are lit. I remember this day many years ago when my Aunt Nora came to our house for the last night. I remember being very sad that Chanukah was over and yet very moved to see my aunt’s regal stern face glowing in the light of the candles. When my whole family was asleep, I came downstairs. The menorah was still glowing like a star fallen from the sky.
Happy Birthday Bonnie:
It’s my friend Bonnie’s birthday today. Although a new pal, she’s an old hand at being a great person. Many happy returns, chaver!
Plowed:
My friend Sarah was plowed tonight but wanted me to mention that she has a very nice blog.
Oh and I got a parking space right in front of my building, 11:30 on a Friday night in North Beach. Huzzah!
Book Night:
The 5th night of Chanukah in my family was always Book Night. Suzan, being very knowing, got me a guidebook of Northern California.
She’s quite a girl.
Adios Suckas…
12:03 AM, Friday. Thank heaven this crappy day is over.
Praise Edmond!
All praises due to Edmond Meinfelder and his valiant attempt to fix my old, broken down computer. I’m taking it out back and shooting it this weekend.
Almost Famous:
I was supposed to take the day off but all I ended doing was watching Almost Famous on HBO. Even though I had rented two other movies not 15 minutes before.
I’m crying now. Crying at how beautiful, how lovely this film is, how much it reminds me of who I used to be, that I was once fifteen and thought rock ‘n roll will save us from everything, even ourselves. I feel like my innocence is a little pathetic now, now that I’m 28 with a career starting, manhood, a relationship, no luxury of regret.
My childhood home will be sold next year. I’ll be a permanent resident of San Francisco, 2000 miles from that beautiful little town in Michigan that is so much a part of who I am, that I can’t have back, except when I lie awake at night and can’t sleep.
I think off all of this as this wonderful movie settles over me. I’m weeping. Weeping becuase I can’t ever have who I was back, that I can’t do it over again and am not ready to let it go.