The World At Fault

Sleeper Hold. Baumgartner Grass. Jerry Rigged Expeditions. Silence – John Cage. Great book. Got it from Jimmy Lee, a former roommate of mine from the 1980’s. Jimmy and I lived in a basement apartment at 1124 Willow Avenue. It was quite a moldy little place. Jimmy was the perfect roommate. He was never there. Maybe once or twice a month. This apartment like every apartment I had before, was what I thought to be the apartment I die in.

Not thinking in the immediate at the time, more like planning ahead, and dying there when I was 60 or 70. I always try to forestall death at every opportunity. Right now, with a certain mockery, I casually look in the window at my reflection, expecting to see the Grim Reaper, standing there scythe in hand, saying, “Gotcha!”

I was working for Murdoch Magazines at the time, where I met Pedro and Harry along with a few others. I look back and see what a slacker lifestyle I had. I was working there during the day, and D.J.ing or something else at Maxwells, working the door, checking ID’s or just hanging out drinking. Ah those were the days.

At some point I was even having mail sent to Maxwells because the mailbox in one of the apartment buildings that I was living in was quite dodgy. Anne Fallon was there in the afternoon and got the mail. I’m sure she didn’t like it much but did understand somewhat.

I decided one day to throw a party, for no particular reason except to get fucked up and have some fun. I had a lot of records, so dancing would somehow occur I hoped. I bought a few cases of beer, and told everyone else to bring their own and they certainly did. I’d say maybe 50 people were there. There was so much beer that we filled the bathtub with ice and stored it in there. Which, when you look at it, is convenient since you’re getting rid of some beer and able to refill while you’re done within seconds.

I also invited some avid winter sport distributors. They kept the party going a long long while. When Mike Keller arrived with other McSwells employees and patrons, he told me it looked like someone in the living room entrance had just eaten a great big jelly donut. Soon Mike was enjoying the donuts as well. It was a night of donuts for everyone!

Pedro and I hung out in the back yard for a few minutes and he showed me ‘The Rooftop’. ‘Quite good’ I thought with my addled mind. Harry was there alienating Lovely Rita. Julio and a friend of his came back from the Garden where they saw a pseudo Led Zeppelin reunion at the Atlantic Records gala.

Ulysses from Queens, a friend of Pedro was enjoying watching Sean Mullhall doing Da Butt with his girlfriend Susan who my friend Maurice was quietly falling hard for. The party even had crashers, who wound up stealing someone’s leather coat. They had tailed the McSwells crew and walked right in.

I’m sure they also broke my answering machine. It had to have been them. The party was deemed a success. No police were called, due to the fact that the apartment was so subterranean and the apartment above was vacant.

A Tree is best Measured when it’s depressed.


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