wake up late I think I can't remember I had to write this the day after cuz I couldn't find a computer
I think I stayed up late reading and fell asleep in a chair and then was awake reading in the middle of the night trouble
see I woke up late and headed to northwestern but the building wasn't even holiday open
so I took time to visit modern contemporary art, chicago like san francisco has a new art building.
I knew as I approached I would see someone from parker -
I thought perhaps it would be koppels,
it turned out to be jesse kulp
suave and womanist as ever
man he started off on chicks within seconds talking about this one and that one and that one he even recognized and left me standing "just for a sec" to talk to her
we spent many twenty minutes many hour maybe standing in few corner exchanging news and updates
he's nearly done with colorado college
thesis in afrocuban music/jazz
might play sax on meditteranean cruise ship after school
and we decided on plans for the evening
he confirmed my part in a tentative birthday ho-down
all quality people
gk, sergio, michael, megan, alec, jesse me
mexican food, gk's neighborhood
things have a wonderful way of working out.
in this small town
so home I attend as scheduled my departure dinner con colin
politics of long distance relations and workstress relief and goals
over beans and greens favourite chicago fare at papa milano's
and eric klinenberg's, danielle klinenberg's house for chicago confluence
eric was in colin's class, I danielle's class
all four of us went to parker
this house I spent some number of nights fooling around with danielle and friends groping and rolling about
the way she hugs me on site I can feel her hunger still
or physical fondness
I can see my open boundaries let her in before
those klinenberg/talcotts throw parties often when folks are in town, to attend is to see parents and siblings and schoolmates of so many years
and it had been so long since I had attended
I was fast-informing some people of the past with vision or spew or rants, preprogrammed stuff a bit
sarah mcconnell and her mom picked up on the sharing stuff
queried me on beyond the intro
and I found a friend who might be servicing the social, gang kids and stuff,
I've been around the hump enough to have a contact there - chicago poet luis rodriguez gives video cameras and encourages hispanic kids to make media. I tried to get him online but I was too far away and he needed hands on so I hooked him up with a chicago-local-reader.
that versus the friendly parent of a peer who owns w w w, books on dating dot com
and some other "cybermalls"
and I meet a woman from idg who used to live in san francisco but left to maintain her father's health
remembered seeing louis smoke a joint on his porch after launch of wired, she asked me, "is jane such a druggie?"
she didn't have much insight on leaving or returning to san francisco and the relative or sustained freshness of the scene.
I saw kim klutznick, who looks better and better after some major drop out retreat,
now shorthaired and persistent, she keeps up pleasant in converse
I end up cornered with kim and sarah and danielle and jennifer ratner
who seems smart if removed or idling her mind motors - dawdling through business 5 year arizona undergraduate
I see people
some need something
do I tell them? try to help them find it?
so little time.
I write it here.
anyways, we recapped so many friends and forgotten stories -
each of us knows of two others and so we reconstruct the faster flying years since departure
so cliched our shock at the transpired and disparity
wonder if we are particularly departed or distant group
my brother left the party for the airport
his office gave him wedesday night to saturday morning off
45 minutes after arriving
and after making sure I met IDG woman
danielle is sentimental. they served good chicago-style deep dish pizza. I didn't eat too much cuz I ate at papa milano's and I wanted to eat with my fellows. I left after some reminiscing - limited attspan for that.
took a cab in the rainy rain to abril's
where gk, jesse, alec and marshall awaited
awaited another person to drink margaritas
I've been increasing the toast factor
raising my glass in hopes to inspire the same -
folks might celebrate things and mark occasion
tonight there was much of that
gk proved himself worth the
looking for dorothy parker reference, I find dorothyparker.com, which turns out to be part of suck-my-big.org. jesus, the net.
gk proved himself worth the (Algonquin) round table
finishing each of my earnest attempts at tribute with a scorching finish line
justin: to so-and-so, a great teacher and a great friend.
gk: yes, to so-and-so, no one knew they were a eunuch.
pitcher after pitcher after pitcher
I didn't drive so I could participate in this
we think the drinks might not be strong enough
marshall tells the waiter "they're watered down"
ahh, marshall, well, ahh, maybe there's a better way to say that
I eat steak my stomach hurts I stop drinking early. join alec dryer, he's driving us. he drives us to "the blue note"
which used to be the site of the "hot house"
the hot house we went to to listen to raunchy terrible awesome inspiring experimental music
face painted maniacs making noise
now the hot house is become "the blue note"
means blue neon, lots of blue neon. aretha franklin on a distant quiet stereo. no dj. no live music. blonde people in black clothes drink cheap beer on the old stage.
too many glenco chix, we decide. suburbs.
we roam nearby, this is all in hip wicker park,
I guess it was hip last time I was here
dying hip the last time I was hear - now just clinging to reminders and cool fonts
gk drinks a martini.
I drink ginger ale - successful stomach soothing.
the holiday club had fewer pretense than the death knelling blue note
some moon and sun in scorpio woman (and proud of it!) noticed jesse and invited him over to give him a burbon shot.
I shit you not. the boy has major mojo.
they make pleasantries we join some.
wander to a table to sit, leave drunk women to themselves
gk drinks a burbon on the rocks.
half and hour later we wander to the "get me high lounge"
the get me high club I went to as a novice jazzer in high school with my brother and his then friend al decker
we saw a mean old toothless white guy lin halliday blow serious sax on a small stage
the type of club you walked on stage past the performers on yer way to the john
this club had black walls and black ceiling covered in chalk writings from progressive eras
jimmy carter called this his favourite hole-in-the-wall jazz club
it was zacchai lewis's as well.
and now it lies silent
but for klingons and syndicated star trek
the same grumpy guy is behind the counter
I already knew the neighbors complained about the noise
it's a small place in a residential hood
two of his friends drink and watch tv with him
we are as intruders
there are defunct pinball machines on stage, unexplained, disengaged amplifiers and mixers and a silence like left behind energy and memory momentum driving it deeper and downward
gk drinks a burbon on the rocks
we leave soon, too rowdy and rilesome for the mourning silence
we hit the artful dodger for some dancing
dancing was suggested earlier, I wanted to talk more
but by now dancing was nice
and nice to see each other move
gk doing hip hop style in his golf hat
actually looked cool
jesse smoothly getting down
alec threatening to leave every five minutes
at first I plotted to string him out for as long as possible so I could get a ride
and then I let him go, I would take a cab
and the place closes at 2am
so we return towards the holiday club, where the car is parked
I drag these boneheads into the closing club for a photobooth moment
by now gk and marshall are beating on each other
everyone is talking shit
there is a general pile-on in the photo booth,
some woman calls gk gilligan, cuz of his hat
gk punches marshall, marshall recoils into a newspaper box
marshall pushes gk into the gutter
gk retaliates, punches marshall down into the gutter as well
we elect to take gk home
the night is too good now to let it continue
outside the car, hug and goodbye time
gk punches marshall in the stomach
gk kicks him softly across the face
just like old times.