it’s been weeks since i sat here for more than ten minutes and attempted to fashion a note. in that time, i’ve done stuff;
all kinds of stuff.
i’ve had friends tom and kate join me where i offered them a tour to parts of gateway national/fort tilden that they hadn’t yet explored – they fish the beach and walk the dunes and path that runs parallel to the beach, (the one i walk with maxx that madoff’s son drove past me before becoming lunch and a suit, courtesy of a representative of that lizard-guy who sounds like eduardo ciannelli and looks like omar sharif) but haven’t gone further in, away from the shore.
for instance, they were never at the WWll sixteen-inch gun placements, those hills that offer a panoramic view of the entire area. you can see the platform at the top and the stairway at the right.
so me, maxx, kate and tom scaled the stairway and we took some pics up at the platform. behind kate’s right shoulder, though you couldn’t see it from this elevation, is the nike missile site.
those nuclear missile folks sure knew how to hide their hardware back then.
i told them about the old launchers and underground chambers and that it would be next on our tour. tom liked this idea. it gave kate the willies.
girls seem to have an inexplicable aversion to nuclear annihilation. it probable stems from a genetic thing about “giving life,” or some-such type of thing. they most likely don’t understand that, for all of the life-affirming things that female of most species hold dear, an opposite and equal amount of such notions occur in the male of the species.
at this moment, that’s what i believe.
i don’t think humanity has, in the big picture, a snowball’s chance in hell in surviving in its current state.
heck, the way things are going, a snowball doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of surviving in the arctic in a few years.
but you know that already. you knew it long before i even said it, again.
there’s a world of things you know about and it’s like, ok, but, “i gotta get eggs,” or something and that’s exactly right and valid.
i’d go as far as to say that’s “heroic.”
“i have to get to work, i have to get my child to the doctor, i have to walk the dog, i have to feed my family,”…it goes on and on.
i have to document something;
for me, there’s things that don’t matter much more than to myself;
i have to try to not be a douchebag, i have to show love where i can and i have to keep the home fires burning
a phrase, i just learned, that has more to do with war than homes. oops.
but i digress…..
as i flashed this picture walking through the otherwise-darkened hallway, i wondered about asbestos. why should i wonder about asbestos? i am an asbestos baby. i’m a lead-paint child.
i thought about how i should make scads of cellphone calls while smoking an armload of cigarettes while drinking a thermos of coffee full of sweet and low. then i thought to myself, “hey, i was born in the fifties, grew up in the sixties and partied in the seventies, eighties and nineties.”
this meant that i already had loads of all that good stuff percolating – for decades – through me like a walking la brea tarpit.
i peeled off some of that grey paint from the door and ate it, just to cover all the bases. i may have been hoping for a lead-paint mood-swing.
we left there and headed to the beach.
it was a breezy day and me and maxx went off looking for ocean glass and things to take pictures of. i looked at the little mountain range the beach made with the sand and wind;
and snapped a pic or two of tom and kate doing winterbeach things;
i think what they were doing had something to do with clams or some other sort of bivalve.
i had gone off to see about finding the big tire and i did, just barely.
you can see the last bit of the big tire at the lower right quadrant of the above photo. i wondered if my big tire moments for 2009 were coming to an end.
i live in constant fear of ends.
when i see the sky on a day like this, i grow a little sad.
there’s a humble magnificence that reminds me that we live on the edge of an edge. most of humanity knows it, in between the time it’s trying to show up for work or feed the baby or walk the dog or pick the potatoes or steal the bread or collect the bottles or…..
the status quo that tries to think it can hold the universe in check, keep back the ocean, control things that well,….they ought to read more sci-fi.
the grifting lizards from mars farm rows of people who can’t see shit from shinola but know the power of lies and fear and how to merchandise the same. the lizards, in their own dispassionate brilliance or more honestly, their consummate farming skills, can only consider the power of the grift, turning arrogance and consummate dining into covert grazing practices on a planet where the galactic food-chain and the wonders of each and every sunrise and sunset are linked to where they farm and cultivate.
this day, with tom and kate would offer only a momentary chat between me and that lizard guy who looks like eduardo ciannelli and sounds like omar sharif. it would happen as we headed to the parking lot after our walk on the beach, with kate and tom walking ahead.
a man with another leashed dog appeared walking ahead of me causing maxx to go…..”maxximum ballistic” – my pup is known in dog circles as dog-aggressive and because of this i had to hold him back until the other dog was safely in his car and away. at these moments, a small white subaru stationwagon passed us on the same path that i often walk with my eyes closed as i count steps, the path bernie madoff’s son’s car passed on his last luncheon appointment – well, lunch and a suit on one end anyway, if you know what i mean – and if you don’t, you might want to start reading these notes from the beginning – there are teeth and binoculars and corporate giants and philosophers you need to know in order to know where you’re headed – you see, i sure can’t offer any insights myself, but that’s your business, not mine. my business is done. i’m just passing through, or so i’m told each and every time i find myself stuck in yesterday or tomorrow, fizzling and sparking out there on “the eighth-electro-plasma-ocean of the ninth dimension” along with the likes of emlin tunnell ruth gordon and boris pasternak. the conversations are brief. very.
but such is life, especially when everything’s happening at the speed of light and that’s on a “slow day,” whatever THAT means out there.
where did i go now?
i’m almost sure i was about to tell you of the brief conversation with that lizard guy who had taken the white subaru to the side of the path while the dogs barked (mine especially) and a moment was stolen on my behalf.
“there’s nothing worth reading when i pick your brain,” he said, “you seem to have only one thing on your mind.”
“i’m an open book to you, i know,” i answer. maxx was quiet.
maxx is remarkably well-behaved around lizard people.
“can you tell me something i don’t already know?” i ask.
“no, i can’t,” he answered.
“do you think she’ll be alright?” i asked.
“i read minds. i don’t tell the future.” he answered.
the window went up and he drove away, making the right hand turn at the end of the path, drove past the parking lot and out.
a moment later, the car that held the other dog turned left out of the parking lot, heading in the same direction.
i heard tom’s voice say, “all clear. that dog’s in the car and gone.”
i knew that like that lizard guy knew what was on my mind.
maxx was again animated, his eyes darting around as he searched the area with his sense of smell.
i knew that, too.
at that moment, i think i knew everything there was to ever know, and in a flash, it was gone……