post-op

"On drugs…you’re so nice on drugs" - Nick Lowe

I’m at one of those turnings points in my life. I’m thinking about the serious things. I also had my surgery Friday morning. I’ve been lazing around, watching movies and sleeping. I stupidly took out all serious, depressing French movies and equally depressing Nicholas Ray movies. I also watched Tarkovsky’s The Mirror and it made no sense at all. Maybe that is because of the pain killers I’m on. At any rate, they’re not cheering me up. The drugs do go a long way in cheering me up, though. The fourth installment of my film series is happening tonight. Hopefully a lot of people will show up. That will gratify me.

Katrin’s been here for the past week. This morning I saw her off at the bus stop in Amherst. When we woke up it was still dark outside. It was cool outside, but pleasant, and as the sun came up I could tell it would be a sunny day. As I pulled out of Hampshire onto West Street, I remarked that the sky looked beautiful. I haven’t been up this early in years, I said.

On the drive back I looked to my left at the rolling fields covered with mist and the mountains in the distance. I was reminded of that morning in Nice, nearly six months ago. Today when I woke up Katrin seemed a little troubled. It was gray and rainy outside. We had a talk. From the balcony we could see the port and there was a big cruise ship standing in the water. I scoped it with the binoculars.

Since it was still early when I got back, I went to bed for a few hours.

out of the past and Jewish revelries

I’ve been in Baltimore, visiting my friend Dan Marans at Johns Hopkins. Getting away for a bromantic weekend in Charles village was just what I needed. Dan is involved with the Jewish student community, including the fraternity, so I’ve been going to several of their functions. Friday night I had the pleasure of going to a Shabbat dinner. Last night Dan and I drank vodka and then went to a celebration where they dance around and read passages from the Torah. I danced around, too, and even tried to chant and sing along with them. Since it’s an orthodox event, there’s a divider separating the woman and the men; while dancing, I knocked it down by accident, but no one seemed to notice it was me.

Earlier that day I went to an all day frat party going on for the young alumni weekend. Thirty thirty racks was the theme. Dan had told me about a guy named Gavin, a recent alum, that could easily drink 30 beers in a day, or even in a night. When I saw him he had already had at least 15, apparently. He seemed…volatile, but was somehow reigning it in. He did take a beer can, shake it, and pierce a whole in the bottom with his teeth so that he could shot gun it; it sprayed everywhere. I was afraid that at any moment he would force me to shotgun one with him, or just push me off the balcony.

Also last night I saw a figure from out of my past at a party, this guy Michael that was my roommate at Middlebury my first time there. It was so disconcerting. He had transferred to Hopkins. I don’t want to go into it.

Well, one thing that is strange in all of this is being around these high achievers. Gavin, for instance, despite his habits, is an investment banker. I’ve met no small number of math, engineering, or international relations majors. You get the idea. Perhaps, at another point in my life, I might have had feelings of inferiority in this kind of situation; now, I hardly care. The only thing it seems to do is highlight my lack of drive and ambition, something which doesn’t especially bother me right now.

adventures in northampton

Last night I went to Northampton again to go to a birthday party above Pop’s liquor store. First I drank beers at Dave & Paolo’s place. I felt tired and listless and a little indifferent towards the evening. My hernia was causing me some pain because I’d been running too hard. We sat around on the porch and told jokes; I told the one about the three men on the beach and the brick they throw up in the air, and Paolo told the one about the old woman and her parrot and the businessman and his cigar on the airplane. Beryl couldn’t keep her mouth shut though and she ruined the whole damn thing.

At the party I felt cerebral. Again my hernia was bothering me. Finally I had to lie down on the dirty bathroom floor to make it feel better while Dave stood outside and made sure no one walked in. When I got back out I started to wonder if I could dance and make people believe that I was actually having fun. I approached two girls that were dancing together next to Jackie and Dave and asked them if they were convinced that I was enjoying myself. They said yes but that I should move my arms more and make other gestures. Pretty soon I got bored so I walked home. I’ve had worse nights.

Hugo's

On Friday night Dave and I went to a bar called Hugo’s in Northampton that our friend Ella suggested to us. It’s kind of a dive, but not like the dive bars in Bethlehem. We ordered a beer and played pool. I won pretty easily. A guy put money down on the table to claim the next game and I realized that his friend is the guy that works at Sam’s pizza on Main Street. You’re the guy from Sam’s pizza, I said. We were just talking about that, he exclaimed. He’s the kind of guy that exclaims, not says. He is very friendly. In his role at Sam’s he brings a little too much personality to his job and it can be annoying. But at Hugo’s it was amusing. We asked where we could get pizza and he said that everywhere was closed, but he had some slices with him from Sam’s; he had just closed the place. We said we’d by them. First he wanted us to buy him two beers, but I brought him down to $4 for two slices. He told us that he had been an art student, then for whatever reason he started working at Hugo’s and then he got into ‘the doorman scene,’ whatever that means, and now he finds himself working at Sam’s. I asked him and his friend if I could bum a cigarette; his friend gave me two and told me to give the other one to a lady. I did go outside and smoke one of them, but there weren’t any ladies to give the other one to.