$3.50

I spent $3.50 today. For my colossal expenditure I got a hard cover Norton Anthology of English Literature Volume 2, barely cracked. It's the exact one that died when I accidentally left it out in the rain. I also got The House of Myrth by Edith Wharton, something I've wanted to read since it was a clue in a riddle I never understood, and A Wrinkle in Time, because I lost the last one somewhere, somehow. Go Goodwill!!! They had some other amazing things but I would have been greedy had I marched out of there with a shopping cart full of stuff. 

** I promise my posts will get better. Gratefully busy at the moment.

Penny Wise and Book Foolish - Vincent Starrett

Fried Green Tomatoes - Fannie Flagg

The TIme Machine - H.G. Wells

One week's worth of books. Two are old stand bys that I love and one is a new to me classic. Sometimes it's easy to forget about those little volumes that sit, for years, on your shelf that you once loved and kind of forgot about. It's made me want to go back through and see what else I've been missing. I think next will  be Farenheit 451, it lives in the glove box of my car, just in case. 

While I am loathe to admit it, I feel I must. I am writing from a mobile phone.also, since it is technically after midnight I missed the deadline. Since I've blown it already I might as well meander a bit into where my mind had been, if you hadn't guessed already. Deep deep in the depths of that little book I told you about yesterday. I love it. It is one of those treasured pieces that feels like it was written just for me.maybe it's this particular copy, but it has amazing vibes. I deperately want to seek out a copy for myself but who knows what I will end up with. What if its more than the writing (simple) or binding (sewn, not glued) but something altogether unique to this one book? I wonder about the person or people who owned it and those who ckecked it out before me. What were they like? Did they love it? I know someone made pencil marks, but I don't know how long ago or why. I suppose I don't need to know. I just hope that somewhere in those pages my love has gotten stuck and pops out to the next reader.

Pass the Fadiman, Please

Ex-Libris is porn for book lovers. If you've ever lost your breath simply holding a fifty year old first edition or fallen in love with a long dead author, you need to read this book. In my infatuated state, I just assumed that everyone who felt that way had already read it. Imagine my surprise when a librarian told me he had never heard of it. As he wrote down the name I tried to cover my surprise. How could a lover of books not be a lover of this book? I find solace in his interest at least. 

I was not checking out Ex Libris, but "Penny Wise and Book Foolish" as referenced in the former.I found this book to be so inspiring that i want to work my way through every single volume, essay and poem that she mentions. 

This one is a lovely little volume on book collecting and collectors. Fadiman references it in her book. The crazy thing is that this book was listed as reference only in the online library database yet still had a card insert. When I brought it to the desk the librarian said that it had apparently forgotten because it was indeed in circulation but was not in the database, it had never been updated since no one had checked it out since the late nineties. How can this little gem have been overlooked for so long? It breaks my heart that it has gone unloved and unwanted for years. A part of me was tempted to shove it in my bag and run as a true book obsessive would do, but I have high hopes that one day someone else might want it and be unable to pay the $50 it goes for these days. 

What kind of towels do you use? Are they skinny or fat towels? And I'm not talking about the width of the towel. If you don't know the difference, move on, you won't get it. If you've never been an overnight guest and been offered something to cover yourself with that barely fits around your wrist, you won't get it.

For those who do get it, you feel my pain. You know the debate, Do you risk tits or ass in your mad dash from the bathroom to the guest room? Neither choice is particularly appropriate but when confronted with this situation one must choose. Myself, I go for the ass. When the ass is covered it's much easier to keep the tits in check while sprinting. I know what you're thinking, why not just take your clothes into the bathroom and dry off and change in there? Well Smartypants, I have done when necessary but it still takes more than a kleenex to clean up an elephant sneeze. Get my drift?

You leave yesterday behind, not entirely by accident on purpose. You take a good last look around and run as fast as you can toward tomorrow, looking back once or twice to make sure you aren't being followed. You take sharp, blind corners that go nowhere.  You hide from ghosts and run into brick walls that are everywhere. You laugh when you should be crying and fall where you are expected to stand. You can't breathe. You have to run. She is waiting for you. You push her down and keep going. You wait for air. You find yourself lost, on a pink couch, counting on a freezer. 

thirty in thirty creates desperate searches for things to write about

I'm thinking about birth control. I have been watching television more lately than I normally do and they keep showing these ads for new kinds of pills. The latest one gives you three or four periods a year. I see how that could be a good thing but on the other hand, isn't the sloughing off of the uterine lining kind of important? I mean, doesn't the body do this for a reason? Like urination, but not as often.  I guess it's fine but it just seems a little weird. I want to let my body do what it's supposed to. Sometimes I kind of like having a period. I kind of like that little reminder that this is what most separates me from men and that I will someday have children. Maybe it's me that's just a little weird.

particularly appropriate...

I was web reading when I should have been weblogging, but I came across something I wanted to share. It was said so perfectly I won't expound on it, read it for yourself. Some guy called tony pierce, by way of a link on blogging.la.

ive noticed theres an awful lot of not writing going on lately



as if their words dont matter. as if we have forever on this toilet earth. as if we'll get around to our brilliant thoughts tomorrow. as if tomorrow we're not gonna have different stories to tell or new reasons not to write.

as if a demon doesnt get his wings every time you dont post.

your blog is there for you to tell us everything. you have nothing to lose. we have everything to learn from you. so why dontcha. 

think about the tv yr watching or blogs yr reading or books you just put down or movies you just saw, and liked. what if that person listened to the devil in their head that day and bought into the bullshit that it doesnt matter? what if bukowski said f it im old im fugly im fat, what on earth do i have to share with the world? i aint twain. i aint hem. i aint shakespeare. 

al gore invented this thing for us to rock. every day. not just once in a blue moon. not just when everythings perfect. but in thick n thin. when yr tired and when youre strong, when yr sad and when yr thrilled. the universe deserves every color in the crayola box, so bust. 

you know who writes when you dont? all the people you hate. 

its because the foolish and evil and f'ed up and wicked dont have the devil telling them a million reasons why they should take a nap instead. because the devil wants them to write. and get on the radio. and infest comments. and whisper in your dreams.

write for the angels. tell'em what theyre missing. explain why harps and clouds and hymns and flying around is for the birds, and how summer is here and the beer tastes better.

tell em how your heart is broken. tell em that yr dreams are blossoming. 

tell em everything and then more and then more and

then watch what you learn 

because noone can read what you havent typed up. 

not even u

Comparison shopping?

The original...

And now, the famous...

I won't say which is my favorite, though I will say it might surprise you.

The original... (doesn't sound or look as good as it should, but it's all I could find and If someone can tell me how to put up a song on a post I will make this a weekly game.

The famous...

In a youtube kind of mood

The last time I saw Rufus Thomas was at the Beale street music festival, a part of Memphis in May. He walked up on stage with the help of a 

handler and a cane. Rickety as all get out and seemingly feeble. He was helped to the microphone and when the handler made sure he was 

steady and walked away he wobbled a little bit on his cane. He had on a big coat, very diferent than his trade mark pink shorts pants suit. 

It was sad in a way. There was a collective tension in the crowd at seeing this great, vibrant man looking so old. I think many people were still 

standing there out of respect alone. And then it happened. The band started playing. He dropped the cane. He started to bend but couldn't

reach it. He looked out at us, shrugged and then stood right up, threw off his coat to reveal the aforementioned pink suit and big white boots

and went straight into Walking the Dog, with full dance routines and bouncing around. Followed by the famous Funky Chicken and Land of 1000

Dancers and on and on and on. For an hour at least. He never stopped to rest. It was unbelievable. The joke was on us. He wasn't feeble at all, old,

yes, but not feeble. He was every bit the showman he was known to be. He died of heart failure six months later.

The video below is from Wattstax, which you should google. He's wearing the outfit, though is decidedly younger than the he was on the night

above. I picked the funky chicken because it's what he's most known for. Enjoy.

Maybe I should not ever go see old people play music, they tend to die right after. This is the only video I could find of Mose Vinson, He's a bit more

lively than when I saw him, but here you go... Sid Selvidge is playing with him. There's a video of Sid below.

Sid is a family friend. He is emensely talented and has such a beautiful voice. Also, the man can yodel like nobody's business. This was my favorite

song of his when I was a child...

Think sober white chicks can't dance? Watch me....

I like to dance, I might even love it, if I'm in the mood and the music is right. I have no rhythm, even less balance and two left feet. Still, I dance. One thing I've heard a lot is, how do you do that sober? ARen't you embarrased? Or someone will be sitting alone and I'll go over to thema nd invite them to join us and the response is, "Oh, I'll need a few more drinks for that to happen." Why? If it's something you enjoy, why do you need a few more drinks? WHy does it really matter whether you are drunk or sober? Truth? I may think I'm, flashdance when I'm drunk, but I;m still me, in all my shining, disastrous glory. So I figure, why not just shake what your mama gave you and have fun anyway? I am  the dirty ballerina after all. 

T is so going to bust my chops for this....

this is a link to footage from a show that willie nelson and arlo guthrie played together at tipitina's in New Orleans. I love it.

yeah, I know. keep it to yourself!

I was walking the pup last night and it was weirdly quiet, especially since the mae shi was playing at spaceland. It sounds ridiculous but I think it was the absence of Michelangelo. They aren't gone, just moved into the old Flor Moreno space, but for me, that seems miles away. What is happening to this neighborhood? One of my favorite things about living here in general and some of the reasons I moved in particular was the family feel. Walking to backdoor bakery in the mornings for coffee and seeing my neighbors and their kids and dogs. Walking by at night and saying hello and being welcomed by friendly faces of one of the brothers. The lively atmosphere of the outdoor cafe, people eating and milling about on the sidewalk. Those things are gone now. All because these greedy landlords want to up the rent and try to attract some posh business to come in, or open their own restaurants now that people with buckets of money live here. The other disheartening thing is that the backdoor space is still vacant. Nothing there. Is the landlord really making more money on an empty space? I don't think so. It makes me sad. It also makes me want to move. Thank god for tropical, the last bastion of neighborhood still in walking distance. I keep thinking it may be time to move to echo park, at least they still have chicken corner, but I'm afraid that it just may be too late there too.

people amaze me...

Recently the story of the aztec death whistle has been floating around. If you haven't heard about it, google it. I would quote it but that isn't the point of this post. Basically, some folks found an old whistle buried with one of the Aztecs... it sat around for a long time and then some guy blew it and it is supposedly the sound of death. What I want to know is, who does that? Who wakes up and thinks, "hmm, I think I will put my mouth on an old whistle, covered in dead guy dust and blow"? Seriously. That is disgusting and it certainly can't be hygenic. 

A few hours after I saw that, I saw this. I mean, god love him and no, i don't have asthma or crippling allergies, but, infecting yourself with hookworm? he should go hang out with the whistle blower.