February 17, 2005
So yesterday I show up for my Being Alive interview at the appointed time, and find out that through a miscommunication between staff members there, I had not actually been scheduled at 2 p.m. It was not a problem, I am going back next Wednesday and will be one of the last interviews instead of the first. Most probably a better position to be in, fresh in their minds as the consider their selection.
Lo and behold, I return to my car, and find that I had locked my keys in, something I haven’t done in 30 years. So I call my sister in New Mexico, and she calls AAA. I’m abbreviating the story somewhat because the details aren’t important, but I found myself waiting on the corner for a white Toyota pick-up from the locksmith.
I’m thinking there has to be some sort of reason for this, if I just keep my eyes open and see it. Wouldn’t it have been a hoot if I met the man of my dreams this way. I thought, a great story to tell the grandnewphews. No such luck.
However, a car did pull up, and I was hailed by someone I didn’t immediately recognize. He was an intermittent customer from days of yore, one of those reasonable ones who I only saw once every couple of months and stayed "recreational." (He and his lover, instead of fueling each others’ use, were rather good influences on each other, I think).
He almost immediately exclaimed:"I love your blog! It’s so funny, it’s awesome! You’re so talented!" I had no idea he was reading it, turns out he was on the email list my sister retrieved from my computer. I thanked him and sent his regards to his boyfriend, hoping that they were both "behaving."
When the locksmith arrived, he offered to make me a new key, explaining that the one I was using stuck in the trunk so often because it wasn’t the original, and could eventually break in the ignition, costing me a fortune to fix. The copy he made, by hand, (literally he whittled it anew) worked perfectly in the trunk. No different from the original, he explained.
So I decided to look at the entire $65 expenditure not as a loss, but as a considerable savings over a mishap that may have occurred when I didn’t have the time or the money to handle it. (Yes, I’m straining a bit here. But don’t mess with me. Sometimes denial is a good thing.)
I then realized that the delay made it past the late opening time of the gallery where X hopes to hang his work (they open only at 3). So I went in, and find out the procedure for new artists to get their work looked at.
I didn’t retrieve X from the Valley until 7. The poor guy has had to endure a perpetually drunk houseguest visiting one of his hosts for two days. The equanimity with which X handled it is remarkable. He took the opportunity to remind himself by watching this gentleman how miserable it can be "out there," He’s also used the time sans computer to work on a canvas about Lucille Ball for the owner of the house, who is her #1 fan, bar none. (The house is filled to the brim with Lucy memorabilia, he is actually opening a museum in her honor.).
The speaker at the N.A. meeting tonight was an original: a Japanese-American raised in South-Central who presented very much like a "homeboy." After years back and forth to prison, he has finally embraced recovery, and is now married with four kids, and is blessed with loads of charisma and street-wise wisdom..
I was reading a very astute article in the present Being Alive newsletter that ended with the observation that the Chinese pictogram for "crisis" is two symbols represented "danger" and "opportunity." I thought it a fitting metaphor for the day.
MCO 2005
P.S. Oh, I was formally invited to perform—with many others—at WORD-A-RAMA at the Highland Grounds Coffee House on March 1. I will read some poetry.
