Thursday, December 15, 2016

We have to learn to differentiate kind instruction from deconstructive criticism; as in the kind of thing that robs someone's confidence, such a rare vein of ore in all of us (unless you're living right, or never let anybody that far in). Got a really long call from Patrick, whose first words were making fun of me for the lamest attempt at self-offing ever. He was scornful and I laughed really hard and we were back in 10th grade, suffering from adolescence, catching each other's eye over some insanely minor detail and losing our minds. A lost mind is a terrible thing to find.

Yes you are here at TripleXK, listening to her philosophical musings...do call in; after a long day of writing really fast for forty-five minutes, I am up for some human discourse. If you have any vodka, drop by...
NO, NOT really.
(Wait, maybe...)
Just kidding.

(As I rip off Eddie Izzard).
But seriously, please. Somebody give me some airtime. My theme song is all picked out:
'I'm WIDE A-WAAAAAAKE! I'm WIDE A-WAAAKE...! I'm not sleee-pinnnnngg, oh, no.'
by U2.

I want to play Amy Winehouse and that French singer and Leonard Cohen and Nick Drake and the Clash and the Who and the Stones' B side of Tattoo You (one long perfect song) and Buffalo Springfield and Shirley Bassey and Massive Attack and a Tribe Called Quest and a LOT of Led Z., and Cole Porter and New Order and Thelonious Monk, Alone in SF -- the entire album -- and The Gentle Side of John Coltrane and Courtney Love and Madonna (Ray of Light) and the Cocteau Twins and Nirvana and Smashing Pumpkins and Stan Getz and Shirley Horn and Astrid y Arturo Joabim (the Joabims), and Kanye West and Ray Charles and the Temptations and Pink Floyd and Portishead and George Michael and Billie Holiday (what's a day without the Lady?) and John McCloy, and Ten Inch Men, and Cinnamon Rush, and Waz Ziehl, and -- you get the sonic picture. All interspersed w my charming comments, plus calls from other insomaniacs still up -- the 12-3 am slot. Then I can sleep until 1 pm and never feel guilty for skipping morning, the scourge of my existence, for as long as I keep the job. (Paid, with benefits. This is what I see).