stuff

after work yesterday, i walked to the brookline library, about a ten minute walk from the school. k was also heading there, so we walked together. she set a fast pace. she made a couple calls on her cell phone. she talked and talked and talked. she is an only child, popular with her classmates, captain of the cheerleading team, a real life diva. she is an honor roll student, is taking ap spanish, applying to colleges. she goes out with a man in his 20's, drives him around, goes places. i confess that i have a soft spot for k, as i confess a soft spot for almost every young person i have ever worked with. she is cute, alive, filled with an energy that i envy. she is excited about starting adulthood, plies you with a plethora of questions, picks your brain. to be honest, she does have quite a temper, can be mean, insulting. but somehow, with her, it usually comes off ok. if i were her age, i would be quite taken with her. now, you just hope that that wonderful energy can survive the blows to come.
i enjoyed the walk. it reminded me of the many times i walked home from school when i was a student, often with a classmate who lived in my area. when you are surrounded by the energy of youth, you feel younger. things have meaning for them. it still matters. k, in her stylish jeans and flats, telling her boyfriend where it's at as she sets a furious pace for any pedestrian to match, teaches me more than i could ever teach her.

leaving the house today. got into the hallway and was about to lock my door when i heard the guy next door berating his poor wife. i've heard this a few times already, but this time it was really bad..."you fucking idiot! i'll kill you! you fucking cunt!" this man is a babbling alcoholic, a human doll who repeats the same set of sayings every time you run into him. in the summer, he sits outside, and satisfies only himself by saying..."nice day, eh? back again, eh? don't go too far! i like it when they keep the lights on in the park..." for this man to call anyone an idiot is beyond belief. these people have been married for over 40 years. how many times has he yelled this way? or hit, or pushed? as far as the woman goes, compared to him, she is a genius. she reads, listens to music, can actually carry on a conversation, worked at the library for 15 years. she deserves better than a drunken fool who verbally abuses her. little did i know when i took this apartment that i would end up in a real life bukowski short story. i have to say, i would much rather read them, than be in them, even if i only have a small part. by the way, i hate these guys who treat their wives like crap and then give strangers a good vibe. fuck these dim wits. but, it's more complicated than that, i know. this man has been worked near to death by a capitalist system that didn't educate him. it held out drink as his only reward, and he drowned himself in it. so now, the one good thing he has left, he derides and destroys, in a brutal game, that we will all lose.

the year was 1964. booker ervin, joe henderson, and wayne shorter, all made the best albums of their careers. inner urge, juju, the space book, many more. mingus had dolphy and jordan and coles and byard and richmond. coltrane had his quartet. sinatra, was starting to slip, but he was still a great singer. sam cooke, eric dolphy, still had life. bukowski was making the plunge on 100 a month. marvel comics was on fire. jackie wilson had just hit with baby workout. willy mays was flying around the bases, ali was still clay. the four tops had baby i need your lovin out. the beatles were coming. whites were starting to dig the blues. all of this, and more, was going on.

and, to top it all off,
we decided to destroy southeast asia.