& in the roads

of Bob's corduroy shirt he felt the year finally slip away. feverd nites of madness on the couch. ache of a loved one on the floor. thug's footprint on his door. a bad year. but almost gone.

just survive one more nite he told himself   coffee cooling in his mug. there's another coming. only hours away. let it have light. allow it to swim with mirth. permit this new year to blossom.

Tavern on the Green (1934-2009)

at a 1989 dinner party for Bette Davis

upright subjunctive

when I saw Freud's couch all I cd think was who cd possibly feel comfortable on those old rugs. then I got on the Vienna trolley & returnd to ElDorado Park to swim naked. now that was comfortable. & when I viewd the Venus of Willendorf she was naked & lookd comfortable too. in that same week I saw Mr. Vienna crownd at my hotel. he wasn't totally naked. but in that skimpy outfit & grimacing thru those muscle poses he didn't look comfortable at all. then there were the others who shared the long table at Figgulmuller's where we all felt comfortable eating weinerschnitzle that floppd over the edges of the plate.

I'm not sure why Freud put rugs on his couch. I suspect he had no design sense. but you'd think he'd have tried out the couch before having his patients recline on it. it's less an issue of a discerning eye than of a comfortable ass. but that was a long time ago. maybe Austrians then threw rugs all over their rooms.

barn door

I thot the Bush admin was bad. given its first threat from another religious loonie & the Obama team over reacts bigtime. flying is unpleasant enuf but now there are more restrictions. I'm less afraid of being blown up than peeing in my seat.

Mary Wickes

yesterday morning I was in need of a laugh. so I went to You Tube & clickd on "I Love Lucy." I chose the ballet episode gueststarring Mary Wickes. then in the evening I learnd that You Tube had a pilot for an unseen series calld "The Decorator." its star was Bette Davis but in support was Wickes.



here's a picture I took of the character actress in Beverly Hills in 1992. we had a sweet chat. I was happy to be able to tell her that she'd brought me a great deal of joy over the decades.

boxing day

began as a time to give to charities but like all holidays has been turnd by business into another party day.

__________________________________________

after writing the above I encounterd this.

sometimes I need to smack myself. I'm not always gloomy. I'm emerging from a challenging year.

so Stephen.... enjoy the day & yr whole week.

off

to the gym
in my Taco Tonto tee

good

to see birds feasting on dry cat food I put out on the back portal.

Olga sends me

spam
from Russia.

13 ladies
wish
to date me.

that's
not the mail
I want.

but
the old lover
I think

will write
fills
my in box

with
invisible kisses
& ghost embraces.

"Brent Goodman woke up with the stars."

I read that on Facebook this morning. my simple reading is that he woke up in the middle of the nite.

I often wake up with stars. but they are movie stars who come to me in dreams. those who leave us their images on screen never die. & those screen images ooze into my head & bleed into my dreams.

Marilyn Monroe is a frequent visitor. I never met her in life but went to her grave again last month. the Marilyn I see in my dreams isn't the character she workd hard to present to the world. she's a quiet young woman who enjoys listening.

these nite movies my mind makes often disappear even as I lift my body from bed. but sometimes the forgotten ressurects itself with a word here   a line there. where else does poetry come from? it comes as much from the movies I see as from those my head makes in the nite.

so good morning Brent. how splendid we both woke up.

aging

I took dinner at a middle eastern place yesterday before going to the theater. the large table next to mine was full of nattering seniors fresh from church. they began to grumble abt technology. one complaind that her grandkids no longer spoke cause they were constantly on their Blueberries.

Alaina Reed Hall (1946-2009)

walkd to town & back -- happy I'm not on the east coast.

calming down

let Michelle Bachman pray against health care while the pope picks out his xmas frock. it's time for me to turn off the news & get silly.



all right. I feel a little better.

impeach Congress

Lieberman may be the biggest shit in the Senate but he doesn't hold the patent on dishonesty or greed. & then there are those neanderthals from Nebraska & Oklahoma. I don't remember ever having been so disgustd with our government. nothing seems to be working.

& what to make of Obama. the last president was so bad that we all had expectations too high for any mortal to meet. I still want this guy to succeed but we need action & not more speeches. if he isn't strong enuf to pass legislation when his is the majority party what will happen when the GOP makes its expectd gains next year.

I try not to be negative but the bombardment of bad news is daunting. & it coincides with the most depressing time of the year. screw the plum pudding. just pass a bowl of Valium till we're well into 2010.

Jennifer Jones (1919-2009)

hair blacker than nite. bright red lips. & a white gown of classic simplicity. it was Jennifer Jones right there in front of me at one of those all-star parties I went to years ago in Beverly Hills. I'd heard she was private   even aloof. but this was a public event so I shyly went up to her. when she lookd at me I told her how beautiful she was. her smile was a dazzler. she reachd out her hand to me & askd my name. our conversation was brief. but it was one of those lovely moments one remembers on days like this.

"they've forgotten me"

that plaintive phrase is part of the final speech in The Cherry Orchard. it's spoken by the old butler Firs. altho I didn't see that production he was playd in 2006 by Lee Kissman.

while I was still on my 1st cuppa (& shortly after the morning news announcd that Tiger Woods had been named Ho of the Decade or something like that) I saw on Facebook that playwright Robert Patrick calld Kissman a "superstar."

I think the only time I ever saw Kissman was in "The Hawk" more than 40 years ago. O-Lan Jones & her mother were also in the cast. & I think I went to the play with Jean-Claude van Itallie.

reading that Kissman is/was a superstar has me cogitating. what exactly is fame? I've been contemplating this theme in my work for many a year. & I still have no clear answer. even if a poll were taken & Kissman came out as one of the dozen best actors in the history of off-Broadway does that kind of fame put him in the same category as one of the current famous-for-no reason folk like Paris Hilton. indeed in 50 years how many will remember either Kissman or Hilton?

perhaps all this is on my mind because last nite I sent Mike Busam a response to his e-mail suggesting a possible publisher for Making Circles. I wrote: I have the feeling that after my death my career will go one of 2 ways: either I'll be completely forgotten or I'll be "rediscoverd" & become another famous dead writer.

I really don't spend much time at all considering my own spec in the writing firmament. but I know I always will find intrigue in the theme of fame in the lives of others. it's especially poignant in my focus on film. I have always been a major fan of the silent era. & time after time I feel so sad when I see one of the great stars of that era playing a bit part in some forgotten talkie.

when I startd this ramble I had no idea where I was going. I suspect that by beginning with Lee Kissman I shd end with him. so if that philandering golfer is getting some kind of award this morning let me make Lee Kissman "Star of the Day." that won't make him any more famous to the universe but it makes me feel good to recognize someone who has given us a life in art.

one of the many reasons

I dislike the holidays is the congestion at the p.o. what a surprise today to discover next to no line. perhaps the lousy economy is responsible.

another resident of Fort Lauderdale

this blog's newest fan

    Samantha     resort kitten

Winter Fest

yesterday's weather worse than day before.

when I arr'd on the 29th floor of Las Olas Grand to watch the boat parade the rain was so bad we cd hardly see down to ground. but we had a lucky break. it cleard up for the parade. then minutes after I returnd to the resort came the 1st in a series of torrential outbursts. & during the nite the winds were so fierce I cdn't sleep.

of course

forecast for weekend was sunny & hot. this is my 2nd day of overcast with fringe precip.

fort lauderdale

this resort computer is
d
oin
g straneg
things

off

to
warmer climes
for the weekend

for Bob (because he likes snow pix)

obelisk left by Valentin Hernandez at the edge of the patio

behold... is that winter before me?

last nite was lovely. with just a light snow Rita & I took Cinco on a run at the nearby football field. but during the nite there was a storm loud enuf to wake me. then in the dark of morning I went out to help neighbors who work shovel their driveways.

dinner party

with John Ericson & David Frankham

Santa Fe Film Festival

Ellen Kuras


Dabney Coleman & Mark Rydell


Wes Studi


Anna Gunn

another day begins

slippd into
my Jim Dine bathrobe
cut a piece
of Wayne Thiebaud cake
to eat
beside a David Hockney pool

Richard Todd (1919-2009)

for Rebecca Loudon

Santa Monica Farmers Market

Rudolph Valentino

walking around Hollywood the other day I stoppd at DeLongpre Park where there are 2 statues in memory of The Shiek.

Eric May (1939-2009)

"Thoreau Mask" (1975)



Eric taught graphic design at Kent State. he coordinatd the work of Type High Press. & he was an able practioner of the drawing arts. I've had this piece of his since it was in the 1975 KSU faculty show.