12.13.17

Up 7:30. At E77 an hr. or so later, finished Robins. The longer poem “Circus” (that I read last night) gives a possibly deceptive impression of larger, sustained organization through a reference-shifting placeholder, “Q.” Otherwise – verse. State names; imaginings from the warmth of the domestic bed. I’m being unfair, but a lot of it slid off me, and I’m not actually sure the couplet thing plays that well w/ his sense of syntax. Posted a bunch of these entries, caught up on daybook, Shazam’ed what turns out to be Postmodern Jukebox’s version of “This Must Be The Place,” and an A Camp song I liked quite a bit. (I may have that CD.) Wrote to the rest of the band w/ a link to the November rough mixes. Read a few pages each of Lynn Crawford, Fortification Resort and Henri Poincaré, Science and Method (just Bertrand Russell’s foreword and the author’s introduction.)

Took train to Lincoln Center to see 2 in their melodrama series w/ Bree, Only Yesterday (John M. Stahl 1933; loosely based on the same novel as Letter From an Unknown Woman) and Back Street (Robert Stevenson 1941), both w/ Margaret Sullavan (the first was her film debut). Could say a lot, and a good conversation about them w/ Bree but I’ll leave it at: If you sleep with someone who’s leaving town, make sure you don’t miss their boat the next morning. Also, Frank McHugh is one of my favorite actors. In between, we went over to the library so Bree could see the photos from 1950s productions of Balanchine’s Nutcracker, because she’s so devoted to Bob Baker’s puppet version in L.A. Had just enough time to check out Blue Blood, a biography of the arts patron/occasional composer/crazy rich lady Rebekah Harkness (explaining why would take too long; file under Subjects for Further Exploration).

Got a bite at Spicy Tibet on the way home. Nothing of note in the evening. Read to about p. 30 of Poincare before bed: “Who can tell that what we believe to be simple does not conceal the most alarming complexity?” (18). Lights out 11:30.

12.12.17

Up before 7, worked at E77 about 8:30-12. Did some ok revision/sharpening on the section so far, and added 600 words. Came back, tried to get going on some mundane things, ended up finishing the Everett. Might be one of his best books, next to Watershed, of the ½ his output I’ve read. Also read a sample chapter of Deloria and Olson, American Studies: A User’s Guide (dl’ed from publisher); I’m not certain it’s the intro I need. Got into a couple hrs. of email organization. Wrote to Corey Fogel about playing w/ me and Dan Clucas at the Battery in Pasadena in Jan. Ordered Pete Blegvad’s new record. Listened to a Blue Note comp of boogie woogie and stride, though Sammy Benkin’s “The World Is Waiting for the Sunrise” is a stretch by that definition. Unfamiliar highlight: James P. Johnson, “Mule Walk (Stomp).” Wrote to relatives about Rosina; I doubt we’ll be back in CA in time for the services. Reshelved some records I’d been sorted. It looks like my collection divides into about 9 categories: rock (all eras); jazz (all eras) and (very little) blues; soul/r&b/funk (not enough disco or hip-hop vinyl for a separate section) folk/country/roots; musical theater/standards/cabaret; classical; Latin/int’l; spoken word/kids’ records (though most of those are Bree’s/oddities (advertising records, etc.); New Wave Time Capsule. Could break out commies/agitprop (Paul Robeson, Weimar, &c.) despite overlap w/ folk, pre-jazz (e.g. ragtime), and piano jazz.

Can imagine having gotten a lot more done from, say, 3-8. Read Robins on train to Wmsbg., met Drew and Katie for his birthday at Skinny Dennis, watched a set and change by Zephania Ohora and his Last Roundup Boys (almost all Merle Haggard songs, except for a request for “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” he read off his phone). Good singer (he’s sat in w/ Laura, I said hi), more Willie than Merle, tight band (2 teles, pianist who turned out to be a fair hand on guitar as well when he switched, jazz-ringer bass player ala Jeremy, idiomatically subdued drummer). Stayed a couple hrs; 2 Guinnesses. Now I just have to get out to see Smokey Hormel and Thirsty Dave. Home/lights out 1 am.

[Mick Moloney, “Along the Rocky Road to Dublin” to Orquesta de Felipe Valdez, “Alza Colombia”]

12.11.17

Up before 8. Had to call Bree’s insurance provider for info, and write a related letter. On hold for a while, but I got my questions answered. Got out just before 10. Read second 1/3 of Everett on train, which skipped Times Square. Learned about the bomb scare later. Took longer route; started working on some EMP comments at coffee. Therapy, lunch. Wanted another coffee, but a couple of spots were crowded; same near Lincoln Center. Finally found somewhere, did the rest of the comments about 2-4. Necessary, but also aware it was procrastination against putting a real day of work in on the book. Went to 3rd floor of library at 4:30. Waited for an annoying conversation at the info desk to end. Worked until 7:45, not much more than 400 words.

Stopped in the Columbus Circle Whole Foods for a bite and to bring home some fruit for Bree (after calling her to ask if she needed anything). Overspent. Some real kooks hang out in the eating area down there, including a man who had used their toaster/broiler to make what looked like half a boule swimming w/ melted cheese, and two possibly related guys, the older with a reddish weave and the younger with a Caesar, both with Jersey accents, asking Siri whether members of the Carol Burnett Show cast were dead or alive. Read that “Cat Person” story on the train. Home around 9. Didn’t do anything much but catch up with Bree. Lights out around 11.

12.10.17

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.

12.9.17

Up 8-ish, went out by 11, stopped for coffee at a Japanese snack place on 80th I hadn’t been in, fine but not suitable for working. Went to Lucid in Woodside. Worked on “formalism” section of intro from 11-3, but really felt like I was spinning my wheels and didn’t add much. Read Evie Nagy’s 33 1/3 on Freedom of Choice (which I’d started on the train in); well-reported. Daybook. Got back around 5, rested, finished Nagy and read all but the last 2 long poems in Lauterbach.

But if the love of data refutes mystery
must the philosopher walk away?
The poet is a procrastinator
and a revisionist. She observes
the river is for the birds. She recalls
the sacred Nantucket coast.
Her vision is empirical
even as a love of mystery refutes data. (118)

This is a nicer expression of argument between philosophy and poetry than most, but I object to the word “refutes.” Stayed around the house in the evening, mostly doing email – sent rough mixes of horn songs to Cheryl and Steve (the Scene Is Now), just as a first step. And that was one of the bigger accomplishments. Read last 2 Lauterbach poems (“Elements of the Poem,” a little clearer the most of the book, and “Song of the O,” an Emerson erasure. Lights out shortly thereafter, about 11:45.