Mid April Apologia

Ah! Iakov, April is the cutest month, & I just heard Ute Lemper sing a Tom Waits lyric: "The orchestra is blind, but I've never been the worrying kind." She was also singing something like:

But all of your letters burned up in the fire
And the time is just memory mixed with desire
That's not the road, it's only the map, I say
Gone just like matches from a closed down cabaret.

Meanwhile, today, I've been scribing some very important epistles to Alabama about my May Journeyings. I would love to publish those here, but I'll wait until I can fully chronicle my adventures (singing 19th century folk choir music in Primitive Baptist Churches in Alabama, the only state of the union I've never been to.) Do I want to log my life in a blog, but I feel that I'm instinctually obscure. Does anyone enjoy reading my e-mails? Perhaps the United States Congress? First thing this morning, I posted a note to James Eliot Quill detailing my ongoings last week:

Dear James,

I just got your mumbled phone message. Yes, yes.

Virtue says her plant store has some coca plants in the grow room. I'm waiting to hear when they're ready for purchase. Maybe we could start a tea farm.

Things I've done in the past week:

-Won fifty dollars at the horse races (Jenny's 11-year-old niece picked all my winning horses just by looking at them.) -Saw a Neil Diamond Cover Band
-Communicated with almost two hundred beefy guys thru a fake personal on Craigslist under the persona of an alcoholic ex-Mormon dumb-blond-girl construction worker.
-Rescued a starfish from being thrown like a frisbee by a jerk asshole at the tide-pools.
-Danced with Liam Joseph Olaf Worland Golden to a ten-piece brass band.
-Wrote a poem in terza rima
-Drank a martini at a hipster bar.
-Worked forty hours at a slow bookstore.

But I'm not boasting of my activities.

I recommended trying to be in Cornish, New Hampshire, for J.D. Salinger's Ninetieth Birthday, January 1st 2009, before we hit Scotland for Burns Day; but Elle Czaog (LJOWG) said it's too cliche & Salinger doesn't want to be bothered. I suggested we don't bother him or try to find him, but just go to a pub there & toast him. Opinions?

Peace,
James

A few comments about some of that:

The fake Craigslist Posting, that ended up being one of my meanest tricks ever, & I'll report about it in detail, hopefully posting some of my letters written in character, once a bit of the guilt subsides.

As for the Coca Plant, I have not researched if these are legal, or if making a tea from the leaves is legal in this country. For the record, I do not enjoy cocaine, nor is the creation of this weblog enhanced by any controlled stimulants. Since this is a public space, viewable by all my potential future employers or professors, I must mention also that I do not regularly bet on the horses nor facilitate underage gambling. I abhor such behavior. It is sad that the historic Bay Meadows race track will be closing for good this fall. I encourage you to go one last time!