One of my touchstone downtown crazies, Homeless Steve Martin, is sporting a new summer look.
Still wearing his huge purple parka with the hood up, still sporting his giant amber old person sun goggles, the kind designed to fit over a big pair of eyeglasses.
Now he's added a huge polar fleece beanie, worn over the hood of his parka.
Truly, it's the cherry on top of the derelict sundae.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
true customer tales
mom with a little boy and girl buys them a few books.
as they leave the little boy comments:
We get to keep these? Forever?
mom: Yes.
boy & girl in unison: COOOOOOL!
as they leave the little boy comments:
We get to keep these? Forever?
mom: Yes.
boy & girl in unison: COOOOOOL!
FOUND
Opened up a book and a German 500,000 mark note from 1923 fell out.
Not as weird as the postcard with the canceled Hitler stamp I found that one time, but less freighted with meaning.
Not as weird as the postcard with the canceled Hitler stamp I found that one time, but less freighted with meaning.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
pelf promotion
The august LA Times reviews the revival of Terminus Americana.
I saw the original Lodestone production and the play is a corker.
I saw the original Lodestone production and the play is a corker.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
true customer tales
A leathery, oversunned gal with comically fake breasts & her boyfriend buy a couple of kids books.
me: would you like a bag?
gal: Uh....
pauses, looks a boyfriend who is laden with more bags than a Grand Canyon pack mule, looks back at me, looks back at boyfriend
....yeah!
me: would you like a bag?
gal: Uh....
pauses, looks a boyfriend who is laden with more bags than a Grand Canyon pack mule, looks back at me, looks back at boyfriend
....yeah!
no wise man ever wished to be younger
The party went well- enough guests to man the oars, not so many that it started taking on water. Fuss was his usual charming self until bed time, then melted down. Before the collapse he 'opened' his gifts & scored some fantastic loot (right now his most favoritist is the light up bath duck from Erin & Mikesy).
The spread was an unqualified success. The guests loved it and I was mostly satisfied, which isn't often the case. Meggsie made hummus that somehow destroyed my blender, cousin Helen brought over a gargantuan bowl of the bulger salad I love (and which I'm looking forward to making a dinner of), Uncle Timmy brought my chicken kebabs to life on the grill and Devra's cake evoked startled admiration from all who partook. The surprise hit were the roasted potatoes with garlic, feta & olives I added at the last minute.
Dirt simple for how delicious they were, the hallmark of all my favorite recipes.
Loyal readers may remember the $5 thrift store typewriter I scored a while back. Turns out messing around with an old typewriter is the only thing a pack of kids loves more than watching Shrek for the 5,000th time. I lobbed a couple of sheets of computer paper into the lion's den and they did the rest, with only occasional troubleshooting from Cousin Helen.
The down side of parenthood reared its head around 9pm.
When the grownup action started to hit its stride I was fading like Rudy Giuliani in the Republican primary.
In a show of defiance I held out until 10pm, propped up in the big armchair and declaiming witty bon mots like "Uhhhhhh......yeah" and "What? Huh?"
But it was a lot of fun and I'm sure I'll be able to juice it for another couple of updates at least. Pix to follow.
The spread was an unqualified success. The guests loved it and I was mostly satisfied, which isn't often the case. Meggsie made hummus that somehow destroyed my blender, cousin Helen brought over a gargantuan bowl of the bulger salad I love (and which I'm looking forward to making a dinner of), Uncle Timmy brought my chicken kebabs to life on the grill and Devra's cake evoked startled admiration from all who partook. The surprise hit were the roasted potatoes with garlic, feta & olives I added at the last minute.
Dirt simple for how delicious they were, the hallmark of all my favorite recipes.
Loyal readers may remember the $5 thrift store typewriter I scored a while back. Turns out messing around with an old typewriter is the only thing a pack of kids loves more than watching Shrek for the 5,000th time. I lobbed a couple of sheets of computer paper into the lion's den and they did the rest, with only occasional troubleshooting from Cousin Helen.
The down side of parenthood reared its head around 9pm.
When the grownup action started to hit its stride I was fading like Rudy Giuliani in the Republican primary.
In a show of defiance I held out until 10pm, propped up in the big armchair and declaiming witty bon mots like "Uhhhhhh......yeah" and "What? Huh?"
But it was a lot of fun and I'm sure I'll be able to juice it for another couple of updates at least. Pix to follow.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Fuss of July
Today is Eamonn's birthday.
The past year has seemed both instantaneous and eternal.
one year ago
a few days ago
The past year has seemed both instantaneous and eternal.
one year ago
a few days ago
Monday, July 20, 2009
today's literary fact
Vladimir Nabokov taught boxing & tennis in Berlin after flipping Lenin the bird.
alarming
One of the less comforting visions you can have while hauling a basket of laundry up the stairs to the back deck is a half-naked, poop-smeared child charging out the sliding glass door, arms a-wave, laughing maniacally & pursued by a harried mother trailing a cloud of wipes like monochrome New Year's confetti.
true customer tales
older lady, on phone:
Are you a religious bookstore?
me:
No.
Lady:
Oh good, then I can ask you this question!
Do you have any...naughty limericks?
Alas, we did not.
Are you a religious bookstore?
me:
No.
Lady:
Oh good, then I can ask you this question!
Do you have any...naughty limericks?
Alas, we did not.
true customer tales
I don't remember if I posted about the nut who threatened my life after I kicked him out of the store for gibbering at paying customers, but if not, that's what happened.
He strolled back in a few days later, playing dumb.
When I told him to vacate he lost his shit, ranting about how "his people" were going to "take care" of me. I backed him out the door with a hammer & called the cops, who stopped him outside and told him to stay away or else.
So every couple of weeks he wanders by and asks if he can come in, and I say "no". The game has been pretending not to know why he's being persecuted so I have to remind him about the police, and the hammer.
He just swung by for his bi-annual visit, but with a twist.
I sent him on his way as usual, but he reappeared a few minutes later, saying
"I'm sorry for what happened when I was off my meds."
Shouldn't I get some kind of retail merit badge for that?
He strolled back in a few days later, playing dumb.
When I told him to vacate he lost his shit, ranting about how "his people" were going to "take care" of me. I backed him out the door with a hammer & called the cops, who stopped him outside and told him to stay away or else.
So every couple of weeks he wanders by and asks if he can come in, and I say "no". The game has been pretending not to know why he's being persecuted so I have to remind him about the police, and the hammer.
He just swung by for his bi-annual visit, but with a twist.
I sent him on his way as usual, but he reappeared a few minutes later, saying
"I'm sorry for what happened when I was off my meds."
Shouldn't I get some kind of retail merit badge for that?
today's petty whine
Why WHY must the wife crank the speakers to maximum volume instead of just unplugging the headphones from the conveniently placed jack!
Yes, I realize I married a Luddite....but come on now!
Yes, I realize I married a Luddite....but come on now!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
True Customer Tales
Lady in car, slightly desperate sounding, to a gal in the doorway:
Excuse me! Excuse me! Can you tell me where there's McDonalds, or a Burger King, or a WENDYS anywhere around here!
gal in doorway:
Ah, no...
Lady in car:
Oh so you're not from around here either!
Gal:
No, I live here, we just don't have those downtow...
Lady in car:
THERE'S NOPLACE WITH A DRIVE THROUGH?!
Gal:
Nope!
Lady in car emits strangled groan and speeds off
Excuse me! Excuse me! Can you tell me where there's McDonalds, or a Burger King, or a WENDYS anywhere around here!
gal in doorway:
Ah, no...
Lady in car:
Oh so you're not from around here either!
Gal:
No, I live here, we just don't have those downtow...
Lady in car:
THERE'S NOPLACE WITH A DRIVE THROUGH?!
Gal:
Nope!
Lady in car emits strangled groan and speeds off
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
retro video: Oingo Boingo
Live, baby!
I picked up Nothing To Fear the day it came out, took it home and listened to it then called up Pelf and played Grey Matter to him over the phone.
Ah, prehistory!
I picked up Nothing To Fear the day it came out, took it home and listened to it then called up Pelf and played Grey Matter to him over the phone.
Ah, prehistory!
Monday, July 13, 2009
True Customer Tales
Guy at counter, to his friend:
"I was thinking about getting into English history...but....there's just sooo much of it."
"I was thinking about getting into English history...but....there's just sooo much of it."
Sunday, July 12, 2009
True Customer Tales
Austrailian family buying a book.
Me: Need a bag?
Guy, pointing thumb over shoulder: Naw, I got me wife!
While thumbing through his wallet for payment:
Gawd, all the damn money looks the same!
Wife, while digging for coins:
I have a lot of them, I just don't know what they are!
Me: Need a bag?
Guy, pointing thumb over shoulder: Naw, I got me wife!
While thumbing through his wallet for payment:
Gawd, all the damn money looks the same!
Wife, while digging for coins:
I have a lot of them, I just don't know what they are!
True Customer Tales
Dad, young brother and sister enter store.
Dad:
Do you know what time it is?
Me, looking at clock:
Quarter to three.
Dad:
Thanks.
Boy, yelling:
WHY IS IT SO QUIET IN HERE!
Girl, sarcastic:
Cuz it's a bookstore, dumbshit!
Boy:
Dad, she said a dirty word!
Dad, distractedly leafing through display book:
Yeah, I know.
Girl:
DAD LET'S GO, I don't want to be caught dead in a bookstore!
Dad:
Do you know what time it is?
Me, looking at clock:
Quarter to three.
Dad:
Thanks.
Boy, yelling:
WHY IS IT SO QUIET IN HERE!
Girl, sarcastic:
Cuz it's a bookstore, dumbshit!
Boy:
Dad, she said a dirty word!
Dad, distractedly leafing through display book:
Yeah, I know.
Girl:
DAD LET'S GO, I don't want to be caught dead in a bookstore!
Friday, July 10, 2009
addenda
In the previous post, "HEY LADY" should be read in the style of the young Jerry Lewis.
Apologies for the late stage directions.
Apologies for the late stage directions.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
the silent scream
Hey lady, STOP STANDING IN THE DOORWAY GIVING THE STINKY, OBVIOUSLY CRAZY HOMELESS PERSON CONVERSATIONAL OPENINGS.
Some people are absolutely accomplices in their own mook-ing.
Some people are absolutely accomplices in their own mook-ing.
True Customer Tales- bags and bags
mother and daughter, daughter buying a tall stack of Louis L'Amour westerns.
me: would you like a bag?
daughter: Yeah.
mom: why don't you just put them in your bag?
daughter, exasperated: because I want another bag to put in my bag!
I should compile an oral history of the question would you like a bag?
me: would you like a bag?
daughter: Yeah.
mom: why don't you just put them in your bag?
daughter, exasperated: because I want another bag to put in my bag!
I should compile an oral history of the question would you like a bag?
Monday, July 6, 2009
Robert McNamara 1916-2009
"The architect of the Vietnam war" is a tough headline to go out on.
Seeing things as we'd like them to be instead of how they really is a lovely pile of leaves heaped over a wire snare. It'd be easy enough for someone to craft a modern Grimm's Fairy Tale from McNamara's legacy.
Although maybe Errol Morris already did.
Seeing things as we'd like them to be instead of how they really is a lovely pile of leaves heaped over a wire snare. It'd be easy enough for someone to craft a modern Grimm's Fairy Tale from McNamara's legacy.
Although maybe Errol Morris already did.
True Customer Tales- a new low
There's a guy with a room temperature IQ and poor personal hygiene who mostly preys on the sale cart. Occasional detours to the new arrivals table yield just enough sales to qualify him as a 'customer', granting him greater forbearance than I accord the usual run of demi-homeless browser.
Today he tested that tolerance by proffering a quarter with a penny welded to its surface by some unidentifiable food-like substance to cover his twenty six cent sales tax.
I gave him an "are you serious" look before totaling out and flipping it into the trash.
Today he tested that tolerance by proffering a quarter with a penny welded to its surface by some unidentifiable food-like substance to cover his twenty six cent sales tax.
I gave him an "are you serious" look before totaling out and flipping it into the trash.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
parenting
Father's Day was a little weird for me, not having had a usable one past the first few years of my life.
I watch the Fuss going about his business- staring at birds out the window, field testing the edibility of a coffee cup, waving a valuable New York World's Fair program over his head while I chase him down the hall, smiling at me from his high chair- and I wonder he could just walk through the net of those connections, leaving behind little besides the scent of cigar ash and an unbroken record of picking me up late from preschool.
Uncle Timmy once considered the stark differences between he & the wife's Dickensian upbringing with the Fiend's life of leisure, asking straight faced "is it because we weren't as beautiful as she is?" Nonsense of course. Our children are as we were.
But that is the impulse- to always blame ourselves for the failures of our parents. Because God must be perfect.
The alternative is unthinkable- or at least, unthinkable without a whole lot of therapy.
And that is the terror of parenthood.
I suppose it could cause someone to flee, or break under the pressure. Or go mad with the power.
It is a narrow trail to follow, with hazards on every side and little in the way of guidance.
But then at the end your child gets to be who they are, not what you made them.
I much prefer thinking of myself as the caretaker for this amazing being, rather than its master.
I watch the Fuss going about his business- staring at birds out the window, field testing the edibility of a coffee cup, waving a valuable New York World's Fair program over his head while I chase him down the hall, smiling at me from his high chair- and I wonder he could just walk through the net of those connections, leaving behind little besides the scent of cigar ash and an unbroken record of picking me up late from preschool.
Uncle Timmy once considered the stark differences between he & the wife's Dickensian upbringing with the Fiend's life of leisure, asking straight faced "is it because we weren't as beautiful as she is?" Nonsense of course. Our children are as we were.
But that is the impulse- to always blame ourselves for the failures of our parents. Because God must be perfect.
The alternative is unthinkable- or at least, unthinkable without a whole lot of therapy.
And that is the terror of parenthood.
I suppose it could cause someone to flee, or break under the pressure. Or go mad with the power.
It is a narrow trail to follow, with hazards on every side and little in the way of guidance.
But then at the end your child gets to be who they are, not what you made them.
I much prefer thinking of myself as the caretaker for this amazing being, rather than its master.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
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