the difference between a “diner” and a “dinner”

before i “go on,” and possibly go, “on and on,” i got stuff in my e-mail this week that’s sort of cool. no. exceptionally cool and funny, first this by esther ku, filmed here a few weeks back. it’s a song entitled “some people”;

……and then this showed up today from a girl who used to work here by the name of drew grant who’s all over the entertainment-blogworld and is writing some great stuff like a parody on the style and substance of bret easton elis.
here’s a tiny post about Mindtroll
, who played here a few days back;

the above are new additions to a piece that i started a few days back…….

this is that post……

i decided, barring an emergency, to do that thing that might seem redundant and repetitive (it sure feels like it to me sometimes) and take maxx out to fort tilden, to the land of the grifting lizards.
it’s been almost two weeks.
the old floyd bennett field airport doesn’t count.
i make up these rules as i go along.
with the growing popularity of the gateway national recreation area, i find myself and maxx under a bit more scrutiny by park rangers and myriad security officers who appear at most inopportuned times, like when i want to go photographing the abandoned airplane hangars and other crumbling structures where nature has been taking over.
this man and dog look forward to the solitude found in the off-season, but that’s not here just yet.
september fifteenth isn’t too far away now is it?

but i digress….

i’m going to fort tilden specifically to communicate with the members of the multi-mega-universal casino and hope to get a chat on with that lizard guy who looks like omar sharif and sounds like eduardo ciannelli.
i haven’t seen him almost all summer but last night he came to me in what seemed a dream, but with these guys, you never know.
he was sitting in a late-model land rover with the windows down.
“long time, no see,” he said,
then he smiled. he wasn’t wearing his dentures.
he had those amazing little, razor-sharp teeth that gave me the shivers.
funny, after two years and countless episodes, he can still evoke fear and terror even in my sleep.
such is the power of intergalactic beings who quietly farm humanity like a discerning shopper walks through dean and deluca.
initially, i wanted to say “balducci’s,” but wasn’t sure everyone would know where i was talking about.
they’ve become a generational anomaly.
hell. i’ve become a generational anomaly.
i know he’ll be there today because i find myself searching through my database of wise-ass replies to things i know he’s going to say immediately upon our meeting.
the eduardo ciannelli-sounding lizard guy already knows this because, if you’re new here, the grifting lizards from mars can access your thoughts like certain types of hogs and dogs can locate truffles.
easy as pie.
i used this analogy in an attempt to infuriate my higher-life-form counterpart. i have no idea if or how they react to insults, but they are adept at fielding wise-ass remarks.
intergalactic beings are pretty hard to figure out.

he’ll have a comment ready for this when i see him, but he won’t say, “good one,” in a mildly-sarcastic tone, because i said it just now.
i’m not sure if it’s a crude form of telepathy or something based on familiarity.
probably the latter.
our relationship is more becoming a ben hecht screenplay than a conversation between “diner and dinner,” which, i think, will be the title of this note upon returning home.
(just for the record, the reason i mention ben hecht is because of the verbal pace he established in the screenplay to “his gal friday,” which is described in fairly short order in the link.)
the back and forth between me and the lizard guy had been heating up until our unplanned parting of the ways in the late spring.
i’m almost sure it had more to do with my current life experiences than his cultivational adventures in human tastiness, something he’s been doing for more years than i can imagine.

i began this writing a while ago, as in days, partially as a note to my dearest friend on the planet, partially as a plan for that day.
i had planned to take the frankenstein i-book with me and was going to expound on this note.
sometimes when i write my friend, something – a thread – can be taken and expanded here, just like this.
only she knows where our note began here, in this post.
she’s a fan.
i have tens of fans, maybe more.

before i forget, this is the basis of my relationship with the lizard guy;
diner – a person eating a meal (especially in a restaurant)
dinner – the main meal of the day served in the evening or at midday

if you’re new here, the lizard guy is “the diner” and humanity is “dinner.”
to get to the beginning, go here and wander around my website for two and a half years;
ken lay, martian lizard

when i headed out to fort tilden i had a plan, camera at the ready.
i told my dearest friend that i would once again seek the great blue heron and converse freely with her in the wind and surf; that i would go to an unexplored portion out there and make a short video message and frame it, “just so.”
i brought a pair of spoons to play.
i charged my camera’s battery.

…….this is what happened when i drove into the parking lot of fort tilden;

i parked the car and arranged my knapsack for the late-afternoon journey.
big water bottle, steel bowl, treats, camera, hat and spoons.
i was gonna play the spoons, did mention that?.
i never played the spoons but saw people do it on subway platforms and maybe even on the stage at goodbye blue monday at one time or other.
as me and maxx stepped from the car, a white “park police” car rolled into the parking lot, the driver inspecting the rear bumper of each parked car.
it was a female officer, not that it mattered. it wasn’t “maybe willie nelson,” or the lizard lady from last year. she rolled down the window and called me.
“hey,” she said, “you can’t take that dog onto the beach.”
“i know that. we’re going out to the paths,” i replied.
“you got your fishing permit on your car?”
she had begun to scribble quickly in a summons pad, taking information from the license plate of the car directly across from mine.
“i ain’t going fishing.”
“you still gotta have the decal to park here,” she said, “you can get it at the office at the landing..” or something…..she said.
i stopped listening.
i knew what she was saying because i heard it before.
i’ve been coming here for over a decade and have stubbornly refused to get that fishing decal. next year….ok….maybe.
we walked back to the car, climbed in and drove away.
such were my plans for this day.
exiting the fairly-crowded parking lot, i noticed the glistening, black late-model land rover to my right. i slowed as the driver’s side window opened, revealing the eduardo ciannelli-sounding guy (who looks like omar sharif) who – dentures in place – said this;
“better one, provided by timing and the united states national park service.”
i had no comeback for that. he got me.
he generally does.
lesson learned.
this would be a part of the conversation i had with my special friend the night before she would be going “under the knife,” or, “to the chop shop,” as she prefers to call it.
we have long ago learned the folly of plans, but part of the human condition might be that we keep on making them.
we have to.
it’s what makes us different from highly combustible liquids and valleys of hopelessness.

a day or two later, after being bested by the lizard guy and ejected from fort tilden, i returned and took the photos i’m posting here as i write.
gotta find a win in here, someplace….

About stephen trimboli

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