Up at 6. Watched a few SNL sketches, went to Starbucks at 7:30, worked on “form” for 3 hrs. (because I knew the rest of the day would be occupied). 625 words. Came back, cleaned up, took train/PATH/cab to Jersey City w/ Bree; read a chunk of Percival Everett, I Am Not Sidney Poitier on the way. Found our way to a small upstairs theater to see a very traditional, non-edgy/arty/updated puppet show based on The Magic Flute with about 9 kids. (I won’t go into how Bree found out about/got interested in the puppeteer’s company; he also has a theater in Brooklyn, which she’ll see something else at w/o me next week.) Met Robin Edgerton, who lives nearby at a French place around the corner, had lunch and talked ‘til 4 or so. Walked back to PATH station, saw the sights of Newark Avenue and made a quick scan of a holiday pop-up market. More Everett on train back. Back to JH around 6, Bree went home while I stopped in E77 for a while. Had a coffee, read first ¼ of Michael Robins (not Robbins – must be annoying), Ladies & Gentleman, which I’d picked up in NC. (The Everett too, come to think of it.) Couplets, soft surrealism. Wrote ahead in daybook (current notebook will be full Dec. 26).
Back home, started writing a letter related to Bree’s insurance, but needed more info; will call tomorrow. Talked about a few things, then I tried to play my Sidney Poitier reads Plato LP – unfortunately, it’s a little warped and the first couple tracks on each side jump. But what I could hear, between the oratorical style and Fred Katz’s music is…way-out man. Played some Jean Carroll for Bree, and then organized some LPs to side one of a Barry Harris reissue. That takes us to 10 pm; not much after that. Lights out 12:15.
Should record that my father called just before we met Robin to tell me that my great-aunt Rosina Cordasco, who had a fall and a stroke a few days ago, died today. I think she was 90 or 91. Being at her house for Christmas Day and the 4th of July were constants of my life for decades. This venue isn’t suited for saying more.