"places as people" & other notions

I'm in mourning. like the unexpectd death of a friend the closing today of Blue Moon is like a punch in the gut. it wasn't the only reason I enjoyd visiting Las Vegas. I have friends there & savor some great restaurants.  it's a hub to get to many good hiking spots. but for the last decade staying at Blue Moon was a pleasure.  & it was a springboard for creativity.  in addition to my suite of poems written there the resort figures in The Book of Java & Century Dimes & Pennies From Heaven.

so when I learnd of its demise I had feelings the same as those for people whose deaths touchd me.  this isn't the first time.  I remember sadness on seeing the rubble that was my university dorm. recently it was difficult to observe the new owner of my parents' house completely gut the inside. places can be as important to us as people.

we still don't know the why behind this closing.  but I fear it's another in the growing list of places paying the price for equality. don't get me wrong. I despise the bastards of the rightwing who continue to work to deprive us of our civil liberties. altho I have no need to be married or have children I'm happy for those of my tribe who want those experiences. but with so many gay resorts & bars & bookstores shuttering I regret that a generation is emerging with no knowledge of some aspects of the richness of our history. I suppose in another decade we will be so homogenized in society we will be unrecognizable.

so let me be sad abt never being able to check into Blue Moon again. for at least it's balanced by the sweetness of knowing that I did live in a time when there were places just for me.

Blue Moon (2002-2014)

owner John Hessling announced on Facebook last nite that his famous Las Vegas resort is closing tomorrow. I'm in total shock.

I first stayd there in jan of 2004. so many memories during my decade as a guest. between 2009 & my final visit last june I wrote the 13 poems that form "Blue Moon Suite."  I have those to help me remember the place. & a chunk of stucco workers removed before the 2013 repainting & a Blue Moon beach towel that just today I used as a sort of wrap during my nap.

of the many photographs I took there this is one of my favorites.  it's of Mario who is featured in the poem "Labor Day."

& here's the red umbrellas that appear in "Colors."

even my current profile photo on this blog was taken at Blue Moon by artist Christopher Bachli -- who workd the front desk.

I feel that the closing of this resort -- following on the heels of Inn Exile -- concludes a vibrant chapter of my life. it makes me sad.

"Winter Garden"

waking to
colder
darker
I still leap up
check time
pee
but return
to bed
to converse
with corpses
plant next stanzas
take a selfie
of my soul

as it gets darker & colder

I have less inclination to spring from bed in morning. during summer jumping up at 5:30 & starting my day is sublime. but on a morning like this it seems a challenge.

today I got up at 5:20. but I had a pee & went back to bed. it wasn't to sleep but to cogitate. I did close my eyes & soon I found myself on that sidewalk on Norton Ave in LA.

the pieces of Elizabeth Short were beside me. at first I didn't know what to make of it. so I allowd my body to rest on the sidewalk & my mind to be open. what I began to feel was the fear she must have felt in her final moments. it was overwhelming. then I began to wonder why Beth wd want me to share that. there was no clear answer but the fear began to subside.  I cd see her beside me but I wasn't afraid.

eventually I opend my eyes. I got out of bed & threw on some clothes. went outside to feed Kiddo.

I still don't understand this visitation of Elizabeth Short. but it was part of the realm of dreams. when I remember a dream I try not to dissect it. I'm not of the school which attempts to interpret dreams. I take them in the way I do visitations of the muse. to those of us meant to have such visitations that blessing is to be acceptd not understood.

& so this morning that faild to begin with a leap has already been rich. now I'll prepare bacon & eggs with Bolivian coffee.  when the sun comes out I'll finish the process of bringing in plants for the winter. abt a half dozen remain outdoors. there are plants which began as cuttings I brought back from LA & Fort Lauderdale & Palm Springs. inside they'll help me breathe thru the cold months.

last nite

I dreamt in black & white.  I don't remember ever doing that before.

a bath???

I'm strictly a shower guy. can't remember the last time I had one.  so why did I just do this?

a whim. for years my bathtub has held plants.  my recent housecleaning marathon included a rearrangement of indoor plants. so I actually cd see the bottom of the tub. then it's only 50 outside.  one of our rare gloomy days.  gray with endless light rain. suddenly I got this flash that I shd bathe. without questioning this rare & odd intuition I had the water running.

the soaking part was sort of pleasant. of course I worried abt my personal dirt moving from one part of my body to another. but I tried hard to feel good. & it almost workd.

I feel no need to ever have another bath.

cleaning the ceiling

good to hear good news of Allen Memorial Art Museum.  everyone who knows me knows of my fondness for that institution. it was the first art mseum I ever went to. it was where at the age of 12 or 13 I bought my first piece of art.  it's where my art collection will go when I'm dead.

here I am a few years ago under that ceiling:

a community shows its love

this morning James Robert Parish sent me still more tributes coming in for Marian Seldes.  those in the theater truly loved this woman as both actress & human being.

reading thru some of them I suddenly rememberd that I'd taken her picture when our mutual friend Bobby Lewis was inductd into the Theater Hall of Fame in 1991.

Marian Seldes (1928-2014)

I've told this story often but that's because it's such a lovely story.

in 1963 I went to the Actors Studio production of "Strange Interlude" starring Geraldine Page. also in the audience was Marian Seldes.  we had a lovely little chat.

in 1985 I went to the Broadway revival of the same play starring Glenda Jackson. to my astonishment there was Miss Seldes again. I ran up to her to tell her of our earlier meeting. she gave me the sweetest smile & sd " well we have to do this again in another 25 years."

a favorite plant

little by little I'm bringing in plants which have enjoyed a summer outdoors.  this one began as a single snippet from a plant at Inn Exile in Palm Springs. some things I bring from other places don't like the journey & expire.  this one has prosperd.

"Akran"

Jason Prufer alertd me abt the temporary availibility of Dick Myers' 1969 film on You Tube.  altho I've seen snippets of it online tonite I saw the complete film for the first time since 1983.

altho moments in the film were vivid there were large sections I'd forgotten. on a personal level it's a true time capsule. so many friends on the screen. & funny to see my name wrong in the credits.

here's a couple of bad screen caps I made with my iPad of me in the scene shot at Jo & Ann's Bar:

& here I am on the bus near the end:

when I last saw "Akran" I wrote this:

IN THE BUS

boy in seat in front of me
sits behind me a young man

Jake & Mary's kids   grown too
live on two coasts

she in the back is dead 
he in front   wives later   lost

in that bus up on the screen
I'm a bearded student riding toward love

but now alone in the dark
I approach 40 barefaced & wambly

Arizona (2001)

while housecleaning & organizing I discoverd a mailing from David Meredith which included photos he shot of our trip.

preparing for winter

began long process of bringing in plants

today's hike

Sandia Mountains

still more Wietor

this 1994 painting hangs in my guest room 

more words by Alex & art by Jeff

years ago Wietor was a sort of resident artist for photographer Bryan Ockert (of Chaos Men fame). I've lost the details but Bry askd Jeff to do this piece as a gift for me.  the text is my nite-blooming cereus poem.

Hungry Ghost Journal

every once in a while I go thru piles & files to gather materials to send to my collection at Kent State.

today I came across some postcards from San Francisco artist Jeff Wietor from a project we did 13 years ago.  as I recall he askd me for a list of some of my favorite words & for one month he did an art piece every day using a trio of those words.

here are two from that series:

laughter too

there was no opening act. but Santana surprised us by announcing George Lopez who did a bit of patter.

he calld for legalization of pot in the state & defeat of our awful governor.

"Black Magic Woman"

when Santana introduced this song the vocal was by Gregg Rolie who I heard sing it at this same venue 2 months ago.

last nite the vocal was shared by both of the band's current singers:

Tony Lindsay

Andy Vargas

Carlos in the rain

we were in his dressing room at Sandia Casino before the concert & Santana playd us  Ronald Isley's rendition of "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head."  so I gave him a copy of Another Book of Rain Poems.

my neighbor Phil Andrews brought his mother to meet the master & he was gracious with his time & spirit.

the concert was delayd an hour because of the rain.

& after it began there was more rain.

Polly Bergen (1930-2014)

in memory Polly Bergen's performance in "The Helen Morgan Story" on 'Playhouse 90' holds a special place. & this album which I bought then has been a favorite of mine over the decades.

I tend

to wake & spring from bed. but this morning my eyes opend & I didn't feel like rising. I had almost 7 hours of uninterruptd sleep but just didn't want to get up. I'm not sick nor depressd. yes it's no thrill to face paying bills & other mundane activities facing me today. but many are the days when my agenda is unappealing.

what I do on those rare mornings such as this is to think & "write."  I compose elaborate essays. this morning began with one I've considerd before: of Brando/Dean/Newman which is the greatest actor of that generation. I did compose some pithy sentences. but soon my mind was elsewhere.  I began to contemplate how I developd from student of the academy to outlaw poet. of course this shd be of no interest to me. whatever happend to me as poet ought to be subject for others. but my little books rarely receive reviews. so I hardly can expect anyone to want to write abt my life or work.

realizing such thinking was silly & that Kiddo was no doubt hungry I liftd myself out of bed.

the Kovach side of the family

Sal (son of Frank Kovach)
Karen (daughter of John Kovach)
Regina (daughter of Mary Kovach Yando)
Alex (son of Helen Kovach Gildzen)

& here's a better picture of the birthday girl:

back from Ohio

Mom was 93 yesterday.  so I spent several days in Elyria/Lorain preparing for her party.  was so busy talking with folks I forgot to use my camera. this is one of the few pix I took:

the cake is from Kiedrowski's -- one of the nation's legendary bakeries.

I just got home. I'm hoping others who were more diligent with the picturetaking will share.  I want to post a sweet picture of Mom.

once a year

at the end of every summer I go to farmers market to buy harvest beets. I also stop by to chat with novelist Stanley Crawford & purchase some of his famous garlic.

both of these go into this favorite recipe.

it'll marinate overnite & tomorrow I'll be in some kind of heaven as I savor this annual treat.

my painting hat

on the blue swing 

Marjorie Strider (1931-2014)

Ira Joel Haber took this picture of us at his loft many many years ago

Aruba

& while I had the albums out & the scanner on I did this of me (from later in 1992):

Grande Bretagne

because there are hundreds of tv channels these days one never knows what old items will be broadcast. I was channel-chasing the other day & founbd a "Murder She Wrote" marathon.

I watchd 2 episodes. in the second Jessica Fletcher arrives in Athens & checks into its most famous hotel. that had me remembering staying there in 1992. so I got out the photo albums & found this:

yes. that spec waving from the balcony is me.

my partner at the time wd surprise me on returning from trips. when he unpackd there was always some kind of "souvenir" which he pilferd from this hotel & that.

so after watching Jessica at the hotel I took a shower & steppd out & onto a GB bathmat.

Labor Day

this is the factory where Dad workd. it burnd down months after his death.

going thru his "stuff" I discoverd he'd kept every pay stub from all those years at General Industries.  those stubs were the inspiration for this piece:

rose of sharon

of the 3 saplings I brought from Elyria this is the only survivor in the hard clay of my back yard.  & this summer has seen its most ample flowering.

Hollywood heaven

every once in a while I see something that brings so many of my personal touchstones together that I'm overwhelmd.  that happend tonite.

I saw a half hour tv show from Xmas week of 1955. the series was "Screen Directors Playhouse." it lastd but one season.  however it's become legendary because it brought to its 35 episodes such prominent Hollywood directors as John Ford & Frank Borzage   Ida Lupino & Fred Zinnemann.

the episode I just watchd was "The Silent Partner."  directing was George Marshall who helmd such big screen classics as "Destry Rides Again" & "The Blue Dahlia."

the reason I wantd to see it was simple. it brought together one of film's greatest stars Buster Keaton with my Everyman -- Percy Helton.  but I had no idea going into it that there wd be surprises.

it opens with the Pantages Theater on Oscar nite.  altho I now find the Academy Awards beyond silly when I was young they were important to me.  & when I first began watching them on tv they were broadcast from the Pantages. we see the crowd & then suddenly there's my old friend George Fisher interviewing stars.  George's moment of Hollywood history is the subject of a poem of mine in The Arrow That is Hollywood Pierces the Soul That is Me.

George interviews Joe E. Brown who I once saw in summer stock. Keaton is a sort of bystander who then walks to a nearby bar calld Barney's. I suspect it'd be in the location of the Frolic in reality. Barney is Percy Helton -- star of my Percy & Bess. also in the bar is another silent screen great -- Zasu Pitts.

the story gets predictable but before the adventure is over we see Keaton in a comedy routine briefly opposite another beloved performer I've written abt -- Snub Pollard.

throw in Evelyn Ankers & Jack Kruschen & Hank Mann & a young Jack Elam -- even a cameo by Bob Hope -- & for me it became a major event. altho not a great piece of filmmaking it brought together both my past & Hollywood's in such a poignant way.  seeing those particular favorites of mine intersect was magic.  I'm so up I may have to do a little dance before I calm down.

Lois Viscoli (1928-2014)

every city has its local legends.  Lois was one in Santa Fe. over the years I saw her more on stage than off.  so she really wasn't a friend.  but she was a colorful thread in the tapestry of our town.

I don't know much abt her early acting career which apparently included Broadway. in more recent times she was well known for having playd Alice B. Toklas in a 2-woman show. apparently it was a hit at Cherry Grove Community House on Fire Island.

Lois lived in a lovely house across the street from the onetime residence of Witter Bynner.  I'm sure her close friends have many stories.

Michael Pace (1949-2014)

I've written often of my love for the singing group Gotham who were the kings of the cabaret scene of the '70s.

Gary Herb died first.  then my friend David McDaniel. & now the last of that sublime trio -- Michael Pace.

"Morning After Nite-blooming Cereus"

photograph by Jim Hinchee (Twin Lakes: 1980)

today's "hike"

by the time we got to Valles Caldera it was too rainy to hike. luckily they also provide a shuttle tour. & the preserve is so vast that that took 2 hours.

& then we went to Los Alamos for a major lunch at Blue Window.

James Foley (1973-2014)

still thinking

abt classmates who are dead. from high school at least 80 are gone.

e-mail from a boyhood friend

"I remember your mom was the fastest walker in the city of Elyria." 

Kirk Nevins 

suicide

today I learnd that a classmate from junior high & high school killd himself some years ago.

this is the football team from Eastern Heights.  he's one of the boys:

in high school he was in the band & actd in plays. altho we were friends we weren't particularly close. I did roam thru my old yearbooks & found us together in several group pictures.

he hasn't been in my thinking in years but tonite he has become central. 

my littlest book

since 2001 this glorious project has been scattering poetry around the world. Poems-For-All is the brilliant work of Richard Hansen of San Diego.

today he sent me copies of Nijinsky's Underwear.  I'm completely thrilld to join all the splendid poets whose work Richard has been distributing.

Ferguson

watching live coverage of the police over reaction last nite brought back memories of that day on the Commons at Kent State.

so sad.

& after all these days since the murder of Michael Brown not one electd official -- city or state -- is showing any leadership.

coming soon

here's a teaser for the forthcoming doc on Michael Alago:



& here I am with Michael at The Abbey:

& this is a poem I wrote for him last year:

FOR MICHAEL ALAGO

smelling a chair

slipping on his jockstrap

tasting cake he made &

left in the freezer months ago

I try

to remember desire

but there is no fire

I pour a cup of tea

from a machine

that only makes singles

feeling old

there was a time when I got scads of magazines in the mail. now it's down to abt 3.  this morning I was looking at one. it features inteviews with "stars" I've never heard of & ads for clothes I wdn't wear in a nitemare.

Robin Williams (1951-2014)

what was

Tom Mahl sent me this picture he took of the destruction of 429 Winckles.  I knew it was coming but it still hurts.

& the cutting down of the glorious magnolia I brought as a Mothers Day gift all those years ago was particularly painful.

lunch

some edam. some provolone. 

turkey sauage.

Molly's squash baked with butter & spices.

a flour tortilla.

I'm back

the problem was a failure of my video card.  apparently that is not uncommon. so Apple replaced it for free.

as my computer dies

been depressd all day. then this.

I was online when the screen went white. turnd off computer. screen still white. turnd off power source & waitd a while. when I turnd it back on everything returnd. BUT I was on all of a minute when everything disappeard again.

will see what happens in the morning. but if I have to take it in the shop I may be absent for a while. one can have an online presence via ipad. but it can be challenging.