Procrastination, Mr. Fuss, & The Passage Of Joe
November 16th, 2008It’s been so long since I blogged I realized that part of the reason I haven’t is because I’ve been beating myself up over it. I hate it when I procrastinate because I’ve already procrastinated.
In my defense, things have been busy. Donnie took me on a surprise trip in October to Fort Collins and we hopped over to Boulder with the Seestor and Aric to listen to Neil Gaiman read from The Graveyard Book. That was really awesome for me, and probably less anxiety provoking than the first time I saw him live. The first time, I was worried about the long line for meeting him, and then inhaled about 10 cigarettes while in the line because I was going to be meeting him. Meeting him, for me, is the equivalent of you meeting your favorite rock star or movie star. I worried that he would note the manic glow in my eye that comes from the tension of waiting for 10+ years and say he wouldn’t sign a thing. But of course that didn’t happen, because Mr. Neil is very polite. He signed everything I had, and let me read his palms.
This time, I still got a front row seat, with a great view, and didn’t have to worry about a long line to meet him because there wasn’t one. I did still get an autographed copy of The Graveyard Book, and enjoyed it thoroughly.
Sweet Donnie and Seestor and Aric and I had fun in Fort Collins, despite the fact that someone, whom shall be known as Mr. Fuss, attempted to make things difficult. Mr. Fuss is from NYC, and, like so many other New Yorkers, he doesn’t actually live there most of the year, but calls it home. Mr. Fuss is tall, lanky, pallid from lack of any actual sun or exercise, and skinny due to what is most likely half a lifetime of a coke habit combined with a refusal to eat anything that is not raw, or at least from Whole Foods. All meals must cost no less than $50, and yet, there was not enough money for him to stay in a hotel. It did not stop him from taking the limo service from the airport. Donnie and I being there at least removed him from Seestor and Aric’s living room floor. We happily occupied it on their new air mattress, which is much better than the old one, which would deflate in the night, and I would wake to find myself half eaten by it. But I digress.
Mr. Fuss took 2 months to order and ship a 2000 lb soundboard, and on the day of delivery, had made no arrangements to get it off the truck. Seestor and Aric are lucky people. They have a building landlord who doesn’t mess around, and had a forklift and a tractor. It was kind of nervewracking and exciting to watch it come out of the truck. But then it got boring balancing it with a combination of leg strength and boobs while we figured out the next step, which was getting it in the door.
When it was all done, Mr. Fuss demanded food, and then took to his bed for the next 3 days, saying he could not work. Which was actually fine, because Aric and Seestor spent time with us, and time with Grieves and his cool girlfriend Teru (I’m sure I’ve spelled it wrong), and we had fun, even though Mr. Fuss kept calling at 10:30 at night with unusual demands.
He went away to London, and hasn’t come back yet, which makes my Seestor want to tear out her pretty auburn hair. Even Aric, calm, man-with-the-plan Aric, got a bit of a predator’s gleam in his eye when Mr. Fuss left without having actually accomplished putting in the sound board.
But we still had a great time. We shopped, got some new salt lamps, some awesome citrine and amethyst samples, some nice clear crystal, and some other awesome things that are mood-lifting and nice to have around to look at.
I was sad in the pants when we came back. It was about 80 when we left FoCo. It was snowing here the day after we got home. Winter announced its presense in a big way. We got at least 2 feet of snow, and power lines and trees broke all over the place, leaving the streets full of summer’s crippled remains. It was kind of pretty though.
The days are short and dark now, and WE HATES IT! I think it must be some leftover sadness from my childhood sometimes, my poor reaction to the fall and winter. That was when our mom got more depressed. We spent a lot of time outside, in the instinctual way that kids do when there’s misery in the house. So it was either go outside and sled, and freeze, or go in, and deal with whatever weirdness was in there. We often opted for the cold.
I do seriously think though, that for whatever reason, I am just biochemically off in the Fall and Winter, and some odd, irrational little part of me is afraid that the sun will never come back for Spring and Summer, and I will live in the land of ice and snow forever. Maybe I died in the winter in a past life.
Sweet Donnie has been keeping me busy though, and so has work. He and I went shopping yesterday for things for the house, and that was a lot of fun, buying things together, for the day when we are going to be married and living together. We also bought SO MUCH FOOD. We had to go to 3 stores to get all that we got, to find things that were organic that we wanted. We were very nearly as bad as Mr. Fuss.
We are also going to start growing some of our own things, and learn how to milk nuts, and make sprouts grow. We are turning into nuvou hippies. We bathe though. And we do not shun technology, we embrace it. And we still talk like normal people, not like we’re from some planet where the people speak slowly and dreamily, as though they are being controlled by puppets who can’t make the people speak or think any faster because the puppets themselves are wasted on Pineapple Express.
That was a funny movie, by the way. I liked it. I would have liked it better if I was still in high school.
My parents have finally decided to move into a real actual condo, and that makes me feel extremely happy. There is nothing quite like the anxiety of knowing your family does not have an actual home, and is instead spending thousands of dollars on a hotel. The amazing thing about the condo is that it is the one that I looked at for my dad in August, and told him he should move in, because it was nice. I feel a whole lot better knowing they are putting some roots down again, at least for 6 months to a year.
So that sadness is gone, but another sadness arrived. My old friend Joe Schlessor died. He started an amazing coffee shop back in the 90’s. It was a place to drink coffee, tea, and smoke, and like the coffeehouses of yore, exchange social ideas, have poetry jams, music, and meet groovy people. Joe gave an awful lot of people a place to just be themselves, and I know we are all better for it. People gravitated to that place who were looking, searching, being, dreaming, creating, expanding. We did it by ourselves sometimes, just in the physical company of others, and sometimes, we created en masse, and felt the power of a group’s energy when it comes together to focus, even if just for a very short time. Joe sold Artspace to Doug and Rita O., and it lived on, until it didn’t. I guess it’s time, like Joe’s, had to end. I really loved Joe. He did amazing things with his life, but I’m not sure he’d look at it that way. He used to say that no one was special, and that used to really piss me off. But one day, he explained, “Look, we’re all special at something ok, so no one is really special,” and I laughed, because I’d spent so much time in my head bothered about it. He also gave me a useful piece of advice. “At the first sign of trouble, bail,” he used to say, and I would laugh with him, because he had an infectious, sarcastic laugh, that invited you to come along. I will miss him. His services are on Tuesday. I will be glad to honor him.
I’m grateful to have my life. I’m grateful to have so many people in my life who are so loving and kind. I’m glad when I can return the favor.
And yes, occasionally, it is fun to write semi-mean-spirited little things about people like Mr. Fuss. I won’t apologise for it, but I will add that I’ve probably made a few people snigger. So that’s alright then.