Up for a while around 3:30 - found a pdf of “I Ain’t Got Nobody” and looked up the other version on Google Books, though printing it from there is useless, ordered the Eileen Southern festschrift on interlibrary loan. Back to bed, up at 10:30. Bree is tired, residual sore throat from anesthesia tube, but basically ok. Read the last bit of Lee in bed. Went to coffee, finished Malech and wrote page/poem. Home at about noon. Concentrated effort to shrink email inbox; also changed my flight to CA, which took a long time on the phone. Some thought of going to library, but never quite got it together - by 2 or 3 it seemed like too much effort. Went to E77 about 4, kept at the current section. Got back at 6 to wait for grocery delivery. Read to p. 60 of Paul Steinbeck’s Art Ensemble of Chicago book; background chapters, some overlap w/ Lewis’ AACM tome, but much of interest — several members were in Army bands, most had reasonably serious mainstream chops (and gigs) before coming into the Abrams/Experimental Band orbit; had not realized how pro Lester Bowie and Fontella Bass were (she had other R&B hits besides “Rescue Me,” and did soda pop jingles). More email, trying to schedule picking up my Korg piano and repaired Princeton amp. Started Devin Johnson, Mosses and Lichens - well-wrought and not as slight as I’d imagined. A poem involving a Somali neighbor comes off badly (or at least would be ammunition for detractors). Stopped at a longer poem “from Ovid,” which I don’t have the stomach for tonight.Touched on horn chart. Watched the rest of Che (the first half, that is). Lights out 11.
jul 2
Bree and I got up at 4:15. Car came on time, we were at Mt. Sinai on Union Square by 5 - 1/2 hr. early. Waited, filled out forms, waited more until Bree got called for pre-op. (Made a joke: “I love my wife, but oh you kidney.”) Stayed w/ her to talk to anastheseologist and doctor. They took her in around 7:40. Went down the street to Think Coffee for breakfast, looked at the “I Ain’t Got Nobody” section for a bit, and started reading over an older chapter I want to send to someone to read. Hospital called as I was walking back. Bree was out of surgery by 9 or so; they were able to do the less invasive procedure, thank God, with no incision or drainage back, which simplifies recovery and will be a lot less stressful for both of us. Saw her briefly, still groggy (+ w/ sore throat) from anesthesia. Went back to waiting room, spoke to doctor briefly, went in to take her home after about 45 min. (Read Lee, to p. 97, in various waiting periods.) She drank a bunch of apple juice and was able to dress herself; held on to my arm walking out, but not too bad. Got her some tea and Starbucks, then cab, called dad en route. I did a couple of chores immediately, but she was able to make her own eggs. Went for a few groceries and picked up her antibiotic. Then was able to lie down. Put on the Mann/Leo podcast w/ Ian Mackaye; it annoyed me on a couple counts, but why get into it? Napped a bit, not long, considering when we got up. Actually managed to work 30-40 min. on the horn charts (the trick key change in the bridge) after exactly a week off for my illness, rehearsal/show, preparing for the surgery. (Only completely missed 2 writing days.) Watched an Ed Wynn short and 1/2 of Oh, You Beautiful Doll (John L. Stahl, 1947) w/ Bree at her request; a quasi-biopic of Fred Fisher, who wrote e.g. “Come Josephine in My Flying Machine,” “Your Feet’s Too Big,” &c. In the late-‘40s period-musical vein, almost entirely an excuse for exploiting old catalogs. Read more Lee, scrawled a poem, lights out. Put on Hank Jones - cool blues-w-bridge called “An’ Then Some.”
june 2019 reading
Craig Watson, Motes
Ari Berman, Give Us the Ballot
Jen Tynes, Hunter Monies
Francis Fukuyama, Identity: The Demand for Dignity and the Politics of Resentment
Deborah Cook, Adorno, Foucault, and the Critique of the West
Grahame Greene, 21 Stories
Clark Coolidge, Space
Raymond Roussel/Ron Padgettt, Among the Blacks
Shepard and Wick, Music and Cultural Theory
Marva Carter, Swing Along: The Musical Life of Will Marion Cook
Robin D. G. Kelley, Thelonious Monk: The Life and Times of an American Original
Jose Marti, Major Poems, trans. Elinor Randall, ed. Philip S. Foner
jul 1
Up 8. Put on new sheets w/ Bree. Went for coffee, read to p. 60 in Lee, wrote poem/page. Dad called. Came back around 10:30. Worked on tonight’s set for about 90 min. - could have run other songs, but I hit the roughest spots, and feel ok, musically. (On edge all day, though.) Bree got a call from the hospital - we have to be there at 5:30 am tomorrow. Reserved a car for 4:30 am - should be early, given pre-rush hour traffic. Got the keyboard etc. ready to take out. Tried to relax a bit, watched about 40 min. of Stephen Soderberg’s Che biopic, then napped. Got a car downtown, read Malech en route loaded in at 5. Soundcheck 5:30. Loud onstage. Had an hr. plus before the show, got slices at Two Boots, browsed in Mast, which has moved to the corner and is even pricier/artier/rare-booksier than previous, though w/ a few au courant new books. Coolidge’s Polaroid and Own Face for about $40, a full set of Art & Literature, Locus Solus 1 - like that. Skimmed a few pages on Othon from Richard Roud’s book on Straub-(Huillet, though her name’s not on the cover). Picked up Corina Copp’s Ackerman translation; mean to read this and Barthes’ Mourning Diary soon. Went back for show. OK attendance, not great - 50 Dollar Bill’s big show at Roulette was a competing draw. Lianne Smith solo electric - I don’t think I’ve seen a full set from her or heard her originals, quite compelling. Don Piper Situation more meat and potatoes, good band dynamic, liked a straight rocker with a 10-beat riff. Schramm on stage at 9:45. Kevin and Dave definitely brought the guitar duel firepower. No major fuck-ups on my part, though I could have (as so often heard myself better) and there are touches in the more “epic” songs I’d like to revisit. Really enjoy barreling through “Number Nineteen” and “Simple Arithmetic” (great iv6 chord in the chorus) on Hammond-manque. Everyone seemed satisfied. Didn’t hang out long, given tomorrow’s schedule. Got a car w/o much trouble, home by midnight, bed by 12:30.
jun 30
Up 8. Spend an hr+ typing up what I wrote yesterday. Helped Bree w/ laundry and a couple other things. Had intended to get a car to go into Manhattan, to avoid some walking for Bree’s sake, but was reminded by one of the Schramms that today was Pride, a particularly huge NYC-hosted global edition, w/ attendant crowds and street closures; so we took the bus/train, got a cab from 23rd st. Started reading Dora Malech, Stet on the train - curious book of anagram poems. Didn’t care for the prose proglomena poem, but began to be won over by p. 16 or so. “Must we fail in one form to find another.” Met Kio Stark to see Say Something Bunny - a one woman performance piece based on documentary research into the family that made two wire recordings in 1952-4; put me in mind of my “Milchadich”/My Fairfax Lady article - and my own family. Tried to help Bree get a car home, finally had to leave her to her own devices. (We failed to get her Uber acct set up.) Had to walk about a mile out of my way to get around the parade on the way to Euphoria - on foot for at least an hr. Finally made it to rehearsal at 6:20, went ’til 9. Feels pretty solid, a lot of progress on, e.g., “Faith Is a Dusty Word,” will work on some details at home tomorrow (particularly the songs w/ some space for impressionistic piano, “Spent,” “Honestly Now,” and “New England.”) Had bought tix for The Bad Plus’s 9:30 set at Jazz Standard (since I have a feeling I won’t be going out for a week after Monday), theoretically very close, but more rerouting. Got seated during the first tune. Dug the dynamics, new pianist Orrin Evans, and a few of the tunes (esp. the last, of which they didn’t announce the title), not a lot to say - just pleasant to listen to music. Had a burger and 2 beers. Got up to date, finally, on the post-solstice poem/page-a-day notebook during the set. Started reading Vernon Lee, The Psychology of an Art Writer — translation of an essay and “gallery notes” by an apparently prolific 19th-c. aesthete, travel-writer, &c., real name Violet Paget, now so obscure she might as well be made up. Also wrote ghost stories. Phenomenology w/ touches of Gestalt psychology, all very refined, dated, but readable. Home 11:30, lights out 12:30. Listened to a little Hank Jones, but fell asleep by the 2nd cut.