CATCHING UP: Picked up my copy of Creative Loafing this morning to see if they had published my letter in response to Mary Grabar's idiotic column. I had received an email from CL saying they planned to run it, but no dice. I know of at least four or five other people who wrote letters about the column, but in the end CL chose to run only two. Luckily, one was by my pal Rupert Fike, who asked Mary how she could accuse the poetry slam of "one-mindedness and an insular mind-set while defending the policy-making decisions of the Bush administration? Oh, please. This presidency is now famous for suppressing any internal opinions which might possibly go contrary to what they've already decided to do..." Way to go, Rupert! I'm sure Mary is seething with even more conservative outrage and thinking of her next piece of uninformed "opinion" to foist upon the world. Write on, Mary.
On other fronts, I've been busy this week with the day job and, in the evenings, working on the rewrite of the first half of the novel, as well as sequencing the next collection of poems. The book of poems is about 75 pages at this point. It may get a bit smaller after I let some trusted friends take a look at it. The title is still up in the air.
I've also been carless all week, after dropping it off at a local garage for a number of overdue repairs. My breaks have been squealing for ages and then I had two lights pop up on the dashboard, including the dreaded "check engine" light. The garage fixed the breaks and replaced some hose that leads to an oxygen sensor and charged me nearly $500. Sigh. Shitty timing with all the other bills and moving expenses I'm about to have when I finally vacate the loft. My drug-dealing next door neighbor has been a bit more quiet (only a slight bit), but the pot still drifts into my bedroom. Reefer madness, indeed.
My dad has also been back in the hospital because of his diabetes. I skipped the Georgia Poetry Society meeting this past weekend because of this. He's doing better today, but he was in pretty bad shape Saturday-Wednesday. He's started dialysis, which leaves him fatigued and with no appetite.
Java Monkey was fun on Sunday, most of it spent having a laugh at Mary Grabar's expense. I bet her ears were about to burn off the sides of her narrow-minded head. Hehe. And the best news of the week -- Constantine was voted off American Idol last night. See ya, Smeagol!
On other fronts, I've been busy this week with the day job and, in the evenings, working on the rewrite of the first half of the novel, as well as sequencing the next collection of poems. The book of poems is about 75 pages at this point. It may get a bit smaller after I let some trusted friends take a look at it. The title is still up in the air.
I've also been carless all week, after dropping it off at a local garage for a number of overdue repairs. My breaks have been squealing for ages and then I had two lights pop up on the dashboard, including the dreaded "check engine" light. The garage fixed the breaks and replaced some hose that leads to an oxygen sensor and charged me nearly $500. Sigh. Shitty timing with all the other bills and moving expenses I'm about to have when I finally vacate the loft. My drug-dealing next door neighbor has been a bit more quiet (only a slight bit), but the pot still drifts into my bedroom. Reefer madness, indeed.
My dad has also been back in the hospital because of his diabetes. I skipped the Georgia Poetry Society meeting this past weekend because of this. He's doing better today, but he was in pretty bad shape Saturday-Wednesday. He's started dialysis, which leaves him fatigued and with no appetite.
Java Monkey was fun on Sunday, most of it spent having a laugh at Mary Grabar's expense. I bet her ears were about to burn off the sides of her narrow-minded head. Hehe. And the best news of the week -- Constantine was voted off American Idol last night. See ya, Smeagol!
Comments
-D.
GAV
Sorry about your dad. Hope he's doing better. I've moved my spam-choked blog to http://nolapoet.blogspot.com if you're interested.
How depressing about Mary, beating that straw man and thinking that it's profligate liberals like Sonny "Fly Me to the Track" Perdue who keep both she and I working without health insurance. I got her the gig at your amamama, which is no hotbed of liberalism by ANY stretch. I'll tell you some interesting backstory off the record.
Robin