{"id":76,"date":"2014-08-04T22:32:18","date_gmt":"2014-08-05T01:32:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/aerendel.ca\/aarchives\/?page_id=76"},"modified":"2014-08-04T23:19:03","modified_gmt":"2014-08-05T02:19:03","slug":"very-old-stuff-pre-digital","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/aerendel.ca\/aarchives\/very-old-stuff-pre-digital\/","title":{"rendered":"Very Old Stuff (pre-digital)"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\n
\n

December 25, 1978<\/p>\n

My sister’s friend gave me a book
\n    full of blank paper
\n    for Christmas 1978
\n    There’s a green tree frog with suction cup fingers
\n    hanging on to a vertical stick on the cover
\n    Under the small letters “Write Your Own Book”
\n    is the title
\n    “Coping” in large yellow letters
\n    beneath that in a non serif font, white letters, no caps
\n    “notes to help me hang in there”
\n    My sister’s friend said she couldn’t resist.<\/p>\n

And for my first entry: I put down the sf\/fantasy book I was reading and wrote:<\/p>\n

Beryl Beaver set a wolf on fire
\n    < Dragon Winter >
\n    Burgundy is a wine too bitter
\n    for anyone here this afternoon
\n    And Glenn backed into my truck
\n    yesterday-<\/p>\n

My father walked all the way into the kitchen
\n    to tell my mother that if
\n    somebody didn’t take that record < Stephen Stills >
\n    off the turntable he would smash it.
\n    < I think the threatened smashing\n    would involve the turn table >
\n    Um- I immediately visualized my hand
\n    smashing very hard (as in Karate)
\n    into his adams apple<\/p>\n

He knew the record was mine
\n    a Christmas present from my sister<\/p>\n

Would he cower or roar
\n    if he understood what sort of effect
\n    his infantile behaviour
\n    generally has
\n    on me? Instant rage?
\n    -sigh- That’s not a very nice
\n    Christmas message
\n    is it?<\/p>\n

“Our good luck might be the next animal’s downfall-” Granny Badger<\/p>\n

=====<\/p>\n

December 26, 1978<\/p>\n

in all caps:<\/p>\n

All things are new
\n    there is no past hostility
\n    strong enough to own me
\n    You are forgiven
\n    who(m?)ever you are.<\/p>\n

now put my book down
\n    before I forget this
\n    epiphany
\n    and break your nosy neck.<\/p>\n

=====<\/p>\n

Next Page<\/p>\n

12-26-78<\/p>\n

Kathy K (a childhood friend)
\n    invaded my dreams last night
\n    we talked, I
\n    don’t remember what we said
\n    I think I
\n    wanted to hug her
\n    I remember
\n    turning around with that
\n    in mind
\n    turning around near the edge
\n    of a stage
\n    music, not heard?-
\n    inferred-
\n    But Kathy, I-<\/p>\n

remember her as an awkward thirteen year old
\n    turning around, barefoot in the sand near the river
\n    walking away from some idiot’s dirty joke, looking
\n    like she thought there was something wrong with her
\n    if she couldn’t take it- <\/p>\n

in the moment, remembering, I realized
\n    “there’s a little bit of you
\n    in every woman I ever
\n    wanted to hold-
\n    and shelter from
\n    the dirty jokes
\n    that no one wants to laugh at.”<\/p>\n

(Jim Wellington)<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

\n

{ This was typewritten on a single sheet of yellowing typewriter paper I think it was one of Jim’s from our first couple attempts at having a writers’ workshop }<\/p>\n

=====<\/p>\n\n\n
\n   Never know where to begin-<\/p>\n

I thought I’d try to tidy up a bit
\n    -for the exterminator?-
\n    as we’re moving me
\n    into this apartment<\/p>\n

We never seem to get Anything done
\n    when we’re together-<\/p>\n

came across an
\n    unfamiliar box
\n    contents in a jumble
\n    -all the time you’ve known me
\n    there’s been some kind of crisis
\n    looming very near
\n    very dark
\n    maybe it is the time of Man
\n    maybe it is a season
\n    for me to dance carefully
\n    between disasters
\n    and try
\n    -not to get crushed<\/p>\n

Maybe our lives are
\n    portable messes
\n    that we can sort through
\n    or store as-is
\n    and maybe
\n    neatness doesn’t count at all
\n    it’s how you live
\n    and what you give
\n    to each other
\n    and the world
\n    around you-<\/p>\n

((( Feels like circa 1991 ? )))\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

((( I don’t know if this is one of the things Jim Wrote and typed and left with me or is it something I sat down and wrote after one of our first attempts at a writers’ workshop? )))
\n———djo———<\/p>\n

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