Ossining, NY--I've been visiting a dear friend for over a month now and have (don't laugh) contracted an unknown ailment that has been rending my body for two weeks running now. With principal work on the DC Madam account basically finished, it's time to find another direction. I'm not sure what's that going to be, so I'm still in the spirit of the times since no one in government does either. Welcome to America.
It's possible that I will never write a non-fiction work ever again unless there's a damned good reason, meaning taxable income.
On the ailment: we first thought this was the measles. It was not. First, it was a very sore throat and a fever, aches, pains, and not simply the kind my rapidly decaying body is used to. For all you armchair physicians out there, the spots spread first from around my throat (never reaching my face) and looked both like the spots from scarlet fever and measles. None of the doctors who saw me has any idea what it was except that it could have been "viral."
Like measles, it spread down my body until it reached my feet, yes my feet. Now, they're fading and I'm spent, no energy, zip, nada, zilcho. Who knows where I got this shit.
So, since I've been in NY State, I have endured:
--An unprecedented earthquake that originated in Virginia.
--A hurricane (Irene) and flooding (it missed us, but still...).
--An undisclosed medical diagnosis unrelated to the "spots" that I don't want to go into, but life-changing nonetheless.
--The spots, whatever the fuck it was.
--A slew of existential crises that, yes, have to do partly with the current economic crisis and getting older.
And so, there it is, more fodder for the writing mill. Yes, there will be short stories coming eventually. I'll be changing my name to "Job" for every reason you think.
Showing posts with label Ossining. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ossining. Show all posts
Monday, September 19, 2011
Where's Waldo? Fuck if I know...
Thursday, April 24, 2008
On Peter Falk's Beverly Hills Freak-Out
Beverly Hills, California--According to the elder statesman actor's wife, he couldn't remember where his car was parked. It was April 22nd. Do you know where your vice president was? Hey, we've all been there: every time I go see a really great movie, I can never remember when I parked either. For that matter--who am I? Where am I? Who are you? These are existential questions we'll never have answers to, and that's OK.
The world's a mess--was it really all about the car? Is it ever just about the broken-shoelaces in the morning, when we're running late for work? No. Mr. Falk still shows-up in little cameos in little independent films, and he's even purported to be selling his own artwork from his own registered website. He's always been weird, get over it. And enough of these headlines that "fears grow" over Mr. Falk's freak-out. It sounds newsworthy, but it's misleading and unethical.
Look, the war in Iraq is in its fifth year, and we've been meddling with Afghanistan a lot longer. We're now viewed as a nation that kidnaps, drugs, sexually humiliates, and tortures human beings from other countries (because we do), then denies it. Because of the war in the Middle East, and financial mismanagement by the Republicans (and many Democrats), our economy is crashing.
This world is not the world Peter Falk--or most of us for that matter--are used to. America doesn't seem like America anymore. Many of Peter's old friends are gone, some long-gone, like John Cassavetes. He's been dead since 1989, of cancer. Not that those hungry photogs had any of that in-mind, they just wanted to take advantage of a confused old man. Yes, it does resemble the Edvard Munch piece, "The Scream," and for the same reasons.
What's an elder of the stage going to do when the world has changed so much, and life's become so crazy? He freaked-out, he yelled and muttered to himself, and he waved his arms wildly, just as most of us would like to do right now. Peter Falk's 80. Leave him alone, he doesn't need your help. He's going to be in a new movie with Val Kilmer called "Cowslip." If you ever wondered what Lenny Bruce's life would be like if he'd survived...well, it wouldn't have been like Peter Falk's, he's not as fucked-up as Lenny was.
The world's a mess--was it really all about the car? Is it ever just about the broken-shoelaces in the morning, when we're running late for work? No. Mr. Falk still shows-up in little cameos in little independent films, and he's even purported to be selling his own artwork from his own registered website. He's always been weird, get over it. And enough of these headlines that "fears grow" over Mr. Falk's freak-out. It sounds newsworthy, but it's misleading and unethical.
Look, the war in Iraq is in its fifth year, and we've been meddling with Afghanistan a lot longer. We're now viewed as a nation that kidnaps, drugs, sexually humiliates, and tortures human beings from other countries (because we do), then denies it. Because of the war in the Middle East, and financial mismanagement by the Republicans (and many Democrats), our economy is crashing.
This world is not the world Peter Falk--or most of us for that matter--are used to. America doesn't seem like America anymore. Many of Peter's old friends are gone, some long-gone, like John Cassavetes. He's been dead since 1989, of cancer. Not that those hungry photogs had any of that in-mind, they just wanted to take advantage of a confused old man. Yes, it does resemble the Edvard Munch piece, "The Scream," and for the same reasons.
What's an elder of the stage going to do when the world has changed so much, and life's become so crazy? He freaked-out, he yelled and muttered to himself, and he waved his arms wildly, just as most of us would like to do right now. Peter Falk's 80. Leave him alone, he doesn't need your help. He's going to be in a new movie with Val Kilmer called "Cowslip." If you ever wondered what Lenny Bruce's life would be like if he'd survived...well, it wouldn't have been like Peter Falk's, he's not as fucked-up as Lenny was.
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