Saturday, November 13, 2004


On Friday evening there was a good deal of line waiting and a chance encounter with one of the Coy brothers et al in the Museum of Natural History. Later I listened to stories of one of the flamboyant women who helps run the Beauty Academy of Kabul as well as tales of explosive bowels and incomprehensively windy roads through the Khyber Pass. These were followed by the clacking of billiard balls in a place called Nowhere. And tonight, it was perhaps even more sensational as well-wishers continually accosted Jerry Garcia’s widow in the hall to chat about this or that or organically modified food while she kept saying she needed to go to the bathroom. Surely Margaret Mead must be barrel rolling in her grave.


stacia said...

why does it want me to sign in to comment?

also, watch your mail. i have a long plane ride to denver tomorrow, and plan to regale you with tales from the depot.

Anonymous said...

stacia? did sam wattegan get ahold of you?

la_sale_bete said...

discourse, fair friends!
i love it!