This blog is welcome to anyone and everyone, regardless of race, class, gender, sexual orientation, or political affiliation. Unless you don't like writing short stories or smelling bear. Or if you voted for the other guy. Also, I don't really like it when you leave up the toilet seat, so could you stop doing that? Muchas, muchas gracias.

Sunday, May 04, 2008


Yesterday I woke early to a muffled, ingratiating tune that drifted from across the hall, pounding at my door with wet oven mitts. Though I couldn't discern the lyrics, I could tell from the eager beat that the vocalist wore lots of makeup and wanted to help. Soft Christian rock, so precious it's lewd, at a time if day when all decent Christians are still in bed.

I turtled my head under the pillow, deciding that this would block out all sound. It didn't, and I couldn't sleep, because whenever I have a pillow over my face I think suffocation. I was angry and wanted to yell at someone. So I slid out of bed, put something on, and peeked across the hall to my neighbor's place. His apartment door was wide open, revealing nothing but a mattress, a sheet, and a radio. I gave up on the ideas of yelling or sleep, and I made coffee.

Then late yesterday evening, just home from a show, I saw that my neighbor had piled his furniture out on the sidewalk. He and his old dog were standing next to a wire closet organizer. Both of them looked lost. I asked if he was moving, and he said that he was. Where? I said, and he said, Africa.

Which is good enough reason to play the radio loudly at 8:30 am. Big changes are so disconcerting. I just wish my neighbor could get through it with something besides Christian rock. But here's what I'm saying: before you get angry, wait to hear the story behind the story.

This afternoon I have an appointment to look at a room. I may be moving in a month or two. (Well before you-know-when, ginab.) When things start to change, I know I have to pay attention so I don't walk into walls or step out in traffic or fall down holes to earth's center. It's a risky time, and right now I MUST be practical and not make any big decisions.

Labels: , ,


Blogger ginab said...

don't tell me....!

I've discovered rich toilets don't swallow tampons well. That's just a fact.

Weird is I'll see you soon and I hope to carry boxes and to convince you to come say hello--not the way of the neighbor and his dog (please tell me his dog has a home). Probably your neighbor-to-Africa is a missionary.


5:43 AM

Blogger matty said...

Oh no! Not Christian rock! I mean, I know he is moving to Africa and spreading the word, but that was just too uncool!

...he should have been blasting Goldfrapp!

It would have helped him build up energy for the long journey ahead and you would have been joyous at the rapture that is glitter disco!

I've my fingers crossed for you regarding the apartment -- no matter your choice! I just want you to find a place that allows you the freedom you desire!

It was nice to chat with you as you hurry'd to BART and the seagulls swarmed around me!

5:44 PM

Blogger ing said...


Rich or poor, none of them do. Did you forget my posting on the very subject?!?!?

I can't wait to see you! And I will most certainly come say hello; we'll figure out the best time for that. I miss you, and I miss JCP, that dashing rapscallion.

I hope Max the dog has a home, because she is a very good dog and always used to run up to me, snorting, for a pat on the head, which would make my missionary neighbor blush.



Yes, it was rock, and it was Christian. No Satan in it whatsoever. A pity. If he was blasting Goldfrapp, I don't think he'd be a missionary or, for that matter, someone who'd tried the position.

I always try to keep in mind the rapture of glitter, no matter what is playing, but tonight I will be attending a stinky folk music show (think Devendra and Vashti). Skinny bearded men wearing vests!

My fingers are crossed, too. If I get this place, it will solve a few problems. And a garden, Matty! Dahlias galore! Barbecues and dinner parties! Windows and sunshine! A record player! (We'll see. . .)

It's always nice talking to you, and I love it when my phone rings while I'm at work. I hope that someday soonish you can come meet me for lunch. My coworkers will be sooooo jealous!

6:22 PM

Blogger sage said...

I hear the drums echoing tonight, but she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation.

well, maybe not so quiet...

4:26 AM

Blogger matty said...

Oh, yeah!!!

That could be a goal for me next week -- drive to have lunch with you!!!

Need to study map quest!

...thinking of glitter and forcing myself to smile usually helps me face the day. Not always, but most times.

I love it when you answer the phone.

You know, my love, you've saved me more times than you could ever possibly know.

3:18 PM


Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home