RANTS
What Child Is This?LOS ANGELES 05 October 2009 |
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A relative is apparently angry at me, or so I was told by another relative. Fortunately, it has nothing to do with my contributions to The Nervous Breakdown (though this piece may well compound the situation). Rather, in his (erroneous) view, I slighted still another relative, so, on the relative’s unrequested behalf, I’m being given the silent treatment.
Meantime, last week, while in the middle of what might be described as extremely trying financial circumstances (including the death of my car), a friend texted to ask why I’d been “talking shit” about him. I could only guess as to his meaning. I’d recently discussed him with a mutual acquaintance, specifically regarding what I considered a pattern of rudeness. I should’ve spoken to my friend, as opposed to about him, but I did so because I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. However, our acquaintance seems to have decided a big deal was in order, and tattled.
Andre Malraux—the French statesman and author of, among other books, Man’s Hope—once asked a priest what he’d learned over the years, and the priest replied that there was no such thing as a grown-up. I’m rapidly coming to the same conclusion. I’ve been astonished, throughout my adult life, at how childish people can be. Not that I exclude myself. I’m, alas, thin-skinned and so can be quick to take umbrage, though I’m always prepared to admit I’m wrong, as I frequently am.
But giving people the silent treatment is something I haven’t done for years, just as I’ve gotten far better at keeping the secrets of others. I used to be bad about that. Once, when I was living in New York, I introduced one gay friend to another, and they promptly began a romance. Then my friend John, who likewise knew them both, told me one of them was cheating with a musician—and I use that term loosely, seeing that the only song he could play was the theme from Valley of the Dolls, or so I gathered when I attended one of his shows, during which he played the theme from Valley of the Dolls repeatedly, with only minor variations, on a synthesizer. Anyway, he was cheating with my friend, and his boyfriend knew this unbelievably hot English girl (she strongly resembled the 1970s horror-movie actress Anulka Dziubinska), and I was fairly certain she liked me, because maybe an hour after we met, she started kicking me. (Aggression is almost always a good sign.) But I wanted to be sure, so I pumped my friend for information, which he agreed to supply on the condition that I tell him anything I knew about his boyfriend, whom he suspected of cheating. Well, I figured he should know, right? I mean, he already suspected anyway, and I just had to learn if that English girl liked me. So I told him, without naming John, my source. Then, literally a day later, I was standing with John at the corner of Avenue A and East 4th Street when the Valley of the Dolls guy rolled up on a bicycle and said, “John, did you tell [the aggrieved] that I’ve been seeing [the cheater]? It must have been you, because you and your ex-girlfriend are the only ones who know.” John, of course, denied it, and then the Valley of the Dolls guy raced off on his bike like Almira Gulch in The Wizard of Oz to confront John’s ex. He might even have tortured her, which he could easily have accomplished by turning on his synthesizer. By then I’d confessed my loose lips to John, who was cool about it, though he got quite a tongue lashing from his ex, and I looked like the ass I was.
Still, I learned something: never betray a confidence. Which is not to say I didn’t do it again—even the most important lessons require reinforcement. But I have gotten much better, and I try hard not to sulk or self-dramatize or break things when they aren’t working to my satisfaction (especially phones, computers, and DVD players), which are all childish characteristics I’m afraid I continue to demonstrate on occasion. And I try to be a good guy, yet every day seems to brings the potential for a new misunderstanding and, with it, the possible termination of a relationship that previously seemed solid.
In fact, I live with the dread of losing friends. Sometimes people grow apart—that I understand—but I’ve been through so many dime-poker squabbles, and lost friends here and there because of them. On the other hand, I sometimes wonder if friends even exist; if maybe what we call friends are people who bond because of temporary necessity, and once the necessity has passed, the friendship follows.
Of course, this is a terrible way of looking at things, but, hey, I’m going through a tough time at the moment. Also, I think I was probably traumatized in the matter of friendship by Jay, who was my best friend from ages nine through nineteen. One day I’ll have to write about our various crime sprees, but that came after the critical period in the fifth grade, when he decided he had another best friend, this redneck named Blaine. I couldn’t understand what he saw in the kid, who looked like ventriloquist’s puppet and later took to wandering the streets alone with a boombox blasting country music—bad country music. But he and Jay started hanging out, and Jay would make it clear to me that he didn’t want me around at those times; and once, when it was the three of us together, Jay suddenly said, “One, two, three, go!” and he and Blaine took off running by prearranged agreement and disappeared. I waited, but they didn’t come back. Then I went home and cried; and to make matters worse, Jay and Blaine were lurking outside, and the next day at school Jay came up and said, “You didn’t have to cry about it.” What a pal.
Another time, when we were supposed to go to his house and play records and watch movies (we were both music and movie nuts), he decided he wanted to go over to Billy Pollack’s house instead. I said, “Oh, man, there’s nothing to do at Billy Pollack’s house. It’s boring.” But, because I wanted to hang out with Jay, I went with him to Billy Pollack’s house, where I in fact had a great time playing kickball, and as Jay and I were about to leave, I saw him whisper something to Billy Pollack, who walked up and said, “So I’m boring, huh?” and I got in a fight with him.
Yes, maybe my dark view of friendship, which usually isn’t dark, goes back to Jay. But getting the silent treatment and having grown men tell tales out of school doesn’t much lighten my view of humanity. And now I’ve probably pissed off somebody else by posting this rambling mess. Hell, there are microbes in the air that, having found their groove, no doubt hate me every time I move.
Fucking babies.
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Original comment thread:
Comment by Don Mitchell
2009-10-05 09:17:32
Ah, so this explains why you didn’t comment on my posting as quickly as I’ve commented on yours.
Am I first? I’ll know in a few seconds.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 09:25:37
Alas, no, Don, but thanks for commenting so promptly.
Yes, I’m about to run off and deal with the horrors of my situation momentarily. I’m facing possible eviction and…never mind. All shall be resolved one way or the other.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 20:26:18
Actually, Don, I now see that you were first. Duh. For some reason, when I saw your comment alongside Dawn’s, I confused the order — my dyslexia kicking in, no doubt.
Comment by Dawn Corrigan
2009-10-05 09:18:30
I too feel it’s a point of honor that I can admit I’m wrong–largely because, for so long, I couldn’t.
So, have you ever had this happen: you’re wrong, and you admit you’re wrong, in this kind of open, fetching, ready-to-look-for-solutions kind of way; and then someone accuses you of not giving a shit, because, well, I don’t know why. I guess because you’re not weeping with the shame and humiliation they would feel if they ever had to admit they were wrong. Because, you know, that never happens. If you’re them.
Sheesh. People.
Friendship does too exist, though, and is worth fighting for. But there’s sort of the nine circles of friendship, and not all friendships can be Ninth Circle caliber.
Sorry you’re going through trying financial circumstances and squabbles. Have you tried ignoring the latter? (Ignoring the former, alas, doesn’t work for very long, I know …)
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 09:38:23
Well, in the first instance, I’m being ignored, which takes care of the matter. The second I tried to ignore, and did for a day, and then I fell on my sword, which, via a follow-up text message, seemed to do the trick. But that was a text. A talk is inevitable.
I think the closest, in my addled frame of mind, I can come to your ready-to-look-for-solutions admission is saying I was wrong again and again, but the other party ignores it and goes on scolding me. Which leads to another round when I inevitably shout: “I TOLD you I was wrong! Jesus!”
And, yes, I know very well that friendship exists. I’m just not feeling very well and so, as the baby I am, tell myself awful things that, I guess, further justify not feeling well.
It feels like it’s been forever since I posted anything, so thanks for the welcome back (as I see it), Dawn.
Comment by Matt
2009-10-05 09:26:24
Fuckin’ A.
As I think we discussed, I’m in the shithouse with my family, too. Which involves a pretty fair amount of the silent treatment.
I’m starting to think that we–Americans, at least–are sliding into longer and longer stages of arrested development with every generation, as frequently exemplified by our celebrities and politicians. More and more, polictal “dialogue” just seems like two kids in the sandbox calling each other names.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 09:41:36
I couldn’t agree more. I had a similar thought a little while ago while glancing at the headlines on Yahoo. But what else is to be expected in a nation in which the middle-aged line up to see superhero movies?
I hope your family situation soon improves, and that mine doesn’t now worsen.
Comment by Matt
2009-10-05 10:38:34
Well, my family situation’s going to be addressed in my next post, so I’ll withhold on any further commentary on that for the time being. But I certainly hope yours gets better.
I’m all for remaining childlike in some ways. Exurberance, joy, whimsy–these are all the qualities of a child, and ones that person should try to hold on to as they grow up. But alas, too many of us just seem to want to cling to the more childish qualities of our character: pettiness, vindictiveness, selfishness, etc. I think I’ve met far too many adult versions of Jay and Blaine.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 10:46:25
More SSE: I, in fact, had a line in this piece about the distinction between the childish and the childlike, but cut it.
Funny how we’re both previewing coming pieces. And mine, like yours, is about family — sort of. Given my dark mood of late, however, it was a little too dark for me to look at it again before posting.
Comment by Greg Olear
2009-10-05 16:56:19
I think politics has always been that way.
Although I really dislike the Howard Stern-style “comedy” that is borne of meanness, and that is everywhere. Laughing at a guy getting kicked in the balls or whatever. Yuck.
If there is an arrested development, it’s because of the gradual deferment of adulthood in general. Irwin, who is 20, has been drinking beer for two years. Here in the US, you can die in Iraq at 18 but must wait until 21 — 21! — to drink legally. The signal that sends is that 18-20 year olds are children, so they act that way. I hate the drinking age law. Huge pet peeve.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 17:49:51
The drinking age doesn’t make any sense to me either. Of course, we have the Reagan administration to thank for that. They pressured every state in the union to bump up the drinking age. Wyoming, I think, resisted to the bitter end, but it was either conform or lose gazillions in federal funding.
Comment by Irene Zion
2009-10-05 09:47:39
Duke,
This same sort of tattletale nonsense used to happen to me years ago. Now I have honed down my list of friends to only the most worthy. These friends are all perfect in every way.
Family, on the other hand, is not the same kettle of fish. You can’t pick ‘em and you can’t kill
‘em. You just have to deal with their crap. I only have one sibling, but Lordy, he is a dancing on my last nerve.
You should get out of bed.
It’s time.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 09:53:28
Those last lines, Irene, sound like something out of an Ann Landers column. Good ole Ann Landers. And we get into SSE territory with “You can’t pick ‘em and you can’t kill ‘em.” I was just about to say those very words in my response to Matt, but I didn’t in light of a forthcoming post, which deals with family and is very dark indeed.
Comment by Zara
2009-10-05 09:48:14
Oh Duke. Family feuds and fighting with friends are two of the most awful things. Nothing is quite as soul sapping, I believe. And I guess the old cliche - that it never rains it pours - is apt here. Maybe there is something in the air at the moment, as a lot of people seem to be experiencing similar things to you. I wonder sometimes if there’s some great universal collective that we tap into sometimes, or that taps into us.
And while it may not seem like a lot right now, you have got friends. Good ones, who care about you a lot.
What is that old saying? - ‘A man is known by the company he keeps’ - Well, the time I’ve spend with you, and the people who I know who know and adore you, shows me that you’re pretty high calibre.
As for Jay, I bet his friends are creeps.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 09:59:25
Ironically, Zara, someone mentioned in the above post thinks very much in terms of universal patterns of just the sort you describe.
I know I have friends. Again, as I commented to Dawn, it is (or was, when I wrote this), the depression talking.
I’d be curious to know what’s become of Jay. We had our moments, but he had enormous influence on me. Interestingly, as soon as I left my hometown, we lost touch and I very rarely think of him, as he undoubtedly rarely thinks of me.
Hope your heat rash has gone away.
Comment by Zara
2009-10-05 10:50:01
Oh, the heat rash was much embellished.
As you know, I am a human thermometer and it’s the cold I’m suffering now!!
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 10:56:22
Last night it felt like autumn here in LA. Strange: that usually doesn’t happen until the end of October. I only wish you were here now. It was pretty awful two weeks ago. But it was nice that day at the beach, yes? Finally a few clouds!
Comment by Zara
2009-10-05 11:01:55
It was lovely at the beach. In fact, every day was lovely. I loved the endless blue skies and sunshine. Even though, I complained about it every second of the day.
I wish I was there too. I do.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 11:09:28
You didn’t complain about it every second of the day; it was only every other second of the day. But, hey, you’re the human thermometer. It’s your job.
Comment by Debbie
2009-10-05 10:32:05
I’m sorry that everyone is acting so petty and childish. I hope it passes quickly and without too much damage.
I’ve been on the outs with my family for, well, I guess it will be 13 years next month, so I know just how you feel. They’ll either get over it or learn to live with it…at least thats been my experience.
I think people come into our lives when we need them and leave our lives when we don’t. But I’m not an authority on any of this…so don’t take my word for anything.
I hope you feel better.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 10:37:56
Only a few seconds ago, I got some very good news regarding a check that had been lost for months that’s just been found. So I do feel better, thanks.
I’m sure there’s something to your law-of-attraction theory. Speaking of which, I was just about to write you (really!) to say that GoodReads is alive and well. In fact, a couple of people recently posted some wonderful reviews of BFL — because I willed it so, of course.
I owe you some addresses, don’t I?
Comment by Debbie
2009-10-05 11:08:32
You do owe me some addresses…..but I’m not holding my breath.
And why wouldn’t people post wonderful reviews about BFL? (I need to post one…just need to find some time first)
I’m glad you feel better. Money always helps.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 11:12:27
Norman Mailer once said that money gives people energy. Which sounds very hippie-ish, out of context, but it was brilliant when he said it.
On the other hand, I just did a thing for a website called Largehearted Boy, which will be posted in a couple of weeks, and in it I cited a song by Embrace (fronted by Ian Mackaye of Minor Threat and Fugazi) called “Money,” and Ian’s take on that subject is very different. Great song. I highly recommend a downloading of it, if it isn’t on your iPod already.
And why aren’t you holding your breath, damn you?
Comment by Debbie
2009-10-05 11:23:26
I agree with Mr. Mailer…money gets you moving, and I think it keeps people moving. It’s not very hippie-ish to me, but as we’ve learned, my views are kind of crooked.
I like Minor Threat, but its been a while since I listened to anything MacKaye has done. I’ll check out “Money” and who knows, maybe it will end up on my player after all. Lately its been a lot of metal…good, angry music. It was an angry music kind of week last week.
You know, if I started holding my breath when you initially said you would send me those addresses, I’d be dead by now. It wouldn’t be good, but on the upside, I would actually get some much needed sleep.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 11:27:47
I’ll send them to you no later than tomorrow, I promise. And maybe I’ll burn you a disc of some stuff and send it to you. How would that be?
Now to run off and take care of some money matters.
Comment by Debbie
2009-10-05 11:29:04
sounds like a fair trade.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 11:30:46
Well, I think I’m getting the better end of the bargain, but, hey, Manhattan was sold for beads.
Comment by Debbie
2009-10-05 13:25:24
You’re getting the better end now…but when I make my way out there you’ll have to hang out with me…and then you’ll see why this is a better bargain.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 17:51:52
You’re not planning to get together with a friend and say, “One, two, three, go!” and take off running, are you? I don’t think I could handle that.
Comment by Debbie
2009-10-05 17:55:16
Aww..love…I wouldn’t do that.
In fact, if I run into Jay, I’ll give him a swift kick….He deserves it.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 18:22:43
Ah, who knows what the guy’s like these days? One of the last times I saw him, he was managing a nightclub and acting out a Memphis Mafia fantasy: “Hey, Junior, send in a couple of beers.”
Funny; I’ve been thinking about him lately more than I have in years, drawing on some of my memories of him for the new novel. Not sure if it any of it will end up getting used, however.
Comment by Debbie
2009-10-05 18:34:44
He’s probably still a dick. Most people don’t grow out of it. Or maybe he did. I tend to be a little cynical….
How is the new novel going, anyway?
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 19:18:10
Slowly. Very. Very. Slowly. Thank you for asking. But it helps to remember that it took me a long time to find the beginning of Banned. Beginnings are always tough. With me at least, things tend to steamroll once I’m confident that I’m starting at exactly the right place.
Comment by Debbie
2009-10-05 19:43:08
Good..I’m glad its moving, even if it is slowly. You weren’t happy with it when I spoke to you last, so its good to seee you making some progress.
I find beginnings to be only slightly less difficult than endings. (this is why I’ve never published any of the three I’ve written….the endings suck) Speaking of, I’d better get back to plotting…
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 19:48:47
Yes, well. To quote Mailer yet again, it’s the beginnings and endings of novels that receive the heaviest going-over. But I personally find beginnings a little tougher. With this novel, though, I haven’t quite determined the ending, so it will undoubtedly prove a different experience.
Good luck with your plotting. I have a good deal of that ahead of me as well.
Comment by Jude
2009-10-05 10:35:29
Bless you Duke for your sensitive soul. The world needs more people like you.
There is nothing worse than being misunderstood by friends and family - and no matter how much you do - the ‘child’ part wants to continue their grievances ‘coz it gives their pathetic lives some meaning. I too, like you am continually amazed at the childish behaviour ’so-called’ adults exhibit. Sometimes I just want to scream - at no one in particular and then sometimes at everyone, GROW UP!
And like you, I am not immune from such childish behaviour, but I think that what it means to be a grown-up, is to realize that if you have a part to play in the ‘drama’, make amends. It’s when the amending hit a brick wall, I start to lose my faith…
I have struggled all my life with being over-sensitive (as my mother once called me) but in the end, if I can feel good about something, it’s that I care. And thank god for people like you…
I do hope your circumstances get better - nothing worse than trying to deal with shit from all sides. Much love to you.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 10:54:35
And much love to you, sweetness. I was so touched by overhearing your call to Zara shortly after she arrived in LA. When I was a kid, we used to see our grandmother every Sunday, and my grandmother would call my mom as soon as we got home to make sure we’d arrived safely. I was reminded of that when I heard Zara on the phone with you.
Also, Zara is so wonderful, and I’m confident, without ever having met you, that she gets it from you. And did you know I spoke to Tina? It was funny to me, because she sounded so much like Zara that it had a kind of stereo effect.
I’m sure things will improve on my end, and I thank you for your thoughts and return them manifold.
Comment by Rich Ferguson
2009-10-05 10:36:43
Good piece, Duke. I also liked your definition of a musician. If I knew a guy that could only play variations on Valley of the Dolls, I wouldn’t be so fast to call him one either.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 10:48:42
Well, to be fair to the guy, Rich, I think it was maybe meant less as music and more as “performance art.” But it was excruciating nonetheless — about as rock bottom a show I’ve ever seen in a lifetime of seeing many.
Comment by sheree
2009-10-05 10:58:07
I once watched a dirty drunken street performer whip a harminica outta the front of his stinky pants and play the hell outta the same few notes for five minutes before replacing the hamonica safely back down the front of his pants and announcing that his next show would be at the top of the hour.
My friend whose a drummer was with me at the time. My friend said he was going to start keeping his drums down the front of his pants so people would stop asking him if they could play his drums.
This has nothing to do with your post I know, but hey life is still twirling all around you and the possibilities are endless……..
Chin up.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 11:08:16
I needed that. I thank you, Sheree. It’s been a very troubling couple of weeks since Zara and Simon left town. It was great while they were, but as soon as they left, it all went to shit. However, there are signs of improvement in the last hour, remarkably. Maybe posting on TNB, even though I consider the piece half-baked at best, brought me some luck.
Comment by sheree
2009-10-05 11:12:22
See. Heh!
Zara reminds me of the sun on a cool day. You remind me of a mustard seed on black velvet. My mind is a funny place I visit it when I can.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 11:13:40
I must say I liked your mind, if I’m there represented as mustard seed on black velvet. Thank you for the quick visit.
Comment by Zara
2009-10-05 11:40:07
Oh, I like being the sun on a cool day! I agree with Duke, I like your mind too, Sheree. It sounds like a very good place to visit. If it ever needs a little bit of sunshine, I’d be happy to help! x
Comment by sheree
2009-10-05 12:09:46
I forgot to add that Simon reminds me of a birds feather due to the SSE mojo. Birds of a feather flock together with an SS twist.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 17:53:32
And mix us all together and you get a mustard feather in the sun against a sky of black velvet. We’re a regular tone poem!
Comment by David Breithaupt
2009-10-05 11:59:34
Look at the Pentagon and how they name their operations, sounds like something kids in a tree house made up! So not even the army grows up! I know I haven’t. Those Frenchies have it right, comme toujours. But what is at the root of all this discontent? Why do people fink? I can’t say. I’ll figure it out when I get some sleep, been up all night working. Ugh.
Another fine post.
Hey, let me know if you got the Kerouac tape, it is en route, thanks.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 17:55:34
I left a message for you on your piece, David. Yes, the tape arrived. Thanks a million. And I will try to make a dub. I think I have the technology, though I’m not sure.
Oh, and the military? Kid stuff for sure.
Sleep tight.
Comment by Lenore
2009-10-05 12:14:29
Oh my GOD do I ever hate Jay.
What an awful friend.
It actually produced a physical reaction in me to think of these asshole kids counting to three and running from you. What an over the top, nasty, slimy way of bullying another kid with abusive rejection.
I hate Jay. So much.
I love you, though. So much.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 17:57:32
Yeah, I could never quite get it through my head that he wasn’t a good friend. The funny thing is, he became a better person to me and a worse person to the world at large. But that’s a subject for another piece.
I love you too. I love you more.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-05 18:03:39
Well, I love both of you. The most.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 18:32:26
Don’t be stoopid! That’s not a very astoot remark!
I need some plenktin.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-05 18:39:16
I apologise for my schtewpidity. I am but a schtewdent in matters of aschewtness.
You can have as much plenktin as you want. Have some chups too.
Comment by Lenore Zion
2009-10-05 18:53:48
are you guys talking about that whale thing?
i ate too much. now i feel fat. thanks for loving me anyway.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-05 18:57:57
I’d love you even if you were a whale. or a dolphin. or a seal. or anything from the sea.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 19:03:12
Wait, Zara, we’re getting into another spelling variation on schtwepid. I thought we were officially going with the Polish version — though even that had spelling variations.
But does Lenore have to be from the sea in order for you to love her? That’s very cruel, Z. Especially when she just mentioned how self-conscious she’s feeling.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-05 19:06:09
NO!!!!! Is that what it looked like?? No No No No No.
Delete that comment. I was trying to be funny and I’m not. I’m beyond stoopid.
Comment by Lenore Zion
2009-10-05 19:32:54
i dunno…i think zara just really likes dolphins or something.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-05 19:37:11
That’s right. I love all sea creatures.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 19:50:36
I did tell you my story about dolphins when you were in L.A., didn’t I, Zara?
Oh, and I was just having a bit of fun, though I will delete the offending comment if you insist.
I bloody well will!
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-05 19:57:05
No that’s okay. You can bloody well leave it there.
And no, you did not tell me your story about dolphins. I only want to hear it if there’s no mention of mud babies though.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 20:10:39
There is none.
Okay, my friend Mark, who’s a journalist with a punk-rock background, was in town from Russia, where he used to live, to work on a book. It’s now a well-known book, and Mark wrote for a newspaper I really admired. I’d always wanted to write for the newspaper, and once submitted an article, which never made it into print.
Anyway, he was staying out in Malibu, and he was so busy writing that I never saw him or heard from him. Then one day I called and asked how he was doing, and he said, “I spend a lot of time staring out the window at the dolphins. I always kind of hated dolphins because of all that hippie stuff associated with them, but they’re great. I watch them play with the surfers. They’re kind of like the dogs of the sea.”
I said, “Well, you know they’re also rapists, right? They rape people.”
“Yeah, somebody else was telling me that. And apparently they’re also wife beaters.”
“Oh, now I really like them! ‘Get me another beer, wifey!’”
Obviously, I have a sick sense of humor. Anyway, Mark started laughing, and he’s a very funny guy, so that was a compliment right there. He started doing his dolphin wife-beater voice, too: “‘I said change the fucking channel!’”
A few weeks later, he wrote a column in his newspaper, and he’d quoted my joke and given me credit for it. So I’d finally made the paper after all.
But that’s probably lost in translation, huh? And I guess it really doesn’t have that much to do with dolphins. Oh, well. I’m tired.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-05 20:23:23
I laughed too. I guess that makes me as sick as you.
We had a dolphin here who attacked a woman on a boat. It leapt out of the water and just SMACKED her over. She had to go to intensive care. The funny thing was, she was a big dolphin activist and even had dolphin tattoo’s, but that dolphin just went for her. Everybody said that dolphin meant business. She recovered and apparently didn’t hold it against the dolphin. Which I thought was nice.
Nobody has seen the dolphin since.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 20:34:17
Maybe that was the dolphin version of Willy: “I want five fucking years of my life back, bitch! Performing in your fucking Sea World show! All youse humans is the same!”
But seriously, folks, it speaks well of her that she didn’t hold it against the dolphin. It makes her all mature-like: apropos a piece about childishness.
Though it did kind of wander a lot, huh? Ah, well. This was one of the quickest things I ever did for TNB. I’m glad I posted it. Definitely helped to improve my mood.
Comment by Lenore Zion
2009-10-05 22:25:57
fuck a dolphin. those things are stupid and slippery and gross.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-05 22:44:36
But they’re cute when they make that squeaking sound and clap their flippers. That’s a pretty neat trick.
Comment by Matt
2009-10-06 04:23:38
Dolphins commit murder! They’ve been observed beating harbor porpoises–and other dolphins–to death, apparently for the fun of it!
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-06 17:37:53
But have you ever touched a dolphin, Lenore? Maybe they aren’t as slippery as they look. I mean, people think snakes are slimy, but they’re nothing of the kind.
Also, the New Age view of dolphins is that they’re smarter than humans, and that may owe partly to the idea that they’re peaceful. I believe Matt has now helped to explode that myth.
Chimps, too, engage in killing apparently for thrills. It may be more common in the animal world than we believe.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-06 19:04:49
I’ve touched a dolphin. It wasn’t what I expected.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-06 19:18:23
How so?
I hope it didn’t try to rape or beat you.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-06 20:03:24
As far as I recall, there wasn’t any inappropriate touching or aggression. I should count myself lucky I guess.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 00:04:09
Oh, I don’t know. There’s no telling what a visit to a hypnotist may reveal.
Comment by Matt
2009-10-07 08:25:19
I’ve run into them a few times while I’ve been out surfing or boogie boarding. They’re cute, and fun to watch, and have once or twice allowed me to touch them. But I don’t for a moment subscribe the hippy-dippy notion that they’re some sort of advanced, peaceful creatures bursting with the wisdom of the seas.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 09:14:20
And just for that, they’ll beat the living crap out of you. Just pray they’re not horny.
Comment by sheree
2009-10-07 13:54:39
ahahahaha. Oh man, too damn funny. While living on the west coast as a teenager I used to go to the beach everyday (sometimes ditching school on shitty mood days to do so) and periodically I would see dolphins surfing the waves. It was crazy. I’ve never seen them being violent though. Who’da thunk it possible for them to be so violent.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 18:39:15
Funny; this exchange was in the back of my head during an exchange with a friend earlier tonight.
Simon and Zara and Lenore will be familiar with said friend: one whose apartment we visited shortly after Zara was instructed on Hollywood Boulevard to end her group sex with us all by a born-again sort. In any case, my friend is now undergoing a very bad breakup. I would characterize it as Scott-and-Zelda bad, if Zelda were more along the lines of Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. Rabbits could be boiled, if rabbits were the pets of my friend, who in fact has two pets of another species.
In any case, Zelda/Glenn Close phoned him last night to threaten him, and he was suckered into picking up, and I said, “Man, don’t do that! She’s a shark, do you understand? No, she’s worse than a shark! They only kill to survive, but dolphins kill for sport!”
I believe, if we continue this exchange, we may help to further dent the touchy-feely rep of dolphins — who, as you all surely know, are feared by sharks!
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 18:47:06
Yes, but DO they engage in group sex like that terrible man falsely accused me of? That’s what I would like to know.
Acually, on second thoughts, I don’t.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 18:51:23
They certainly participate bloodletting orgies. They kill en masse — with head butts. They’re freaking football hooligans!
Interesting, though, that you’re curious about their sex lives. Retractions don’t count.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 18:56:09
Yes they do. I only had it in my mind because of the previous comments to do with raping and inappropriate touching and false accusations of threesomes/foursomes. Otherwise, it would never have crossed my mind.
Not once. Not even a little bit.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 19:01:34
Sorry. The cat’s out of the bag. Which, in this context, amounts to a kind of mixed metaphor. Doesn’t it?
Oh, never mind. We’ll allow for a retraction this time — but only this time.
Comment by Simon Smithson
2009-10-07 19:04:43
Oh no! I liked said friend a lot! I hope this somehow works out well for him…
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 19:06:03
That is like, the seventh worst thing anyone’s ever said to me.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 19:07:17
Oops! That didn’t work!!! Damn you, Simon Smithson - you queue jumped.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 19:20:46
Said friend is going to be very hurt, Zara. Very hurt indeed.
Now, rank that in your list of all-time worst things said to you. You do appear to keep careful books in that department.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 19:25:20
That’s number one.
You say the worst things to me, Duke Haney.
My books tell me so.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 19:27:24
Well, at least I remain at the top. In all matters, my standing means much.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 19:30:01
Just like Simon will always be a princess to me, you will always be number one in my books.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 19:32:07
That’s the worst thing anyone ever said to Simon.
(Simon, I hope you don’t mind if I keep your tally for you.)
Comment by Simon Smithson
2009-10-07 19:36:49
No, no. It’s the second worst. The worst… I can’t quite remember what it was. My mind goes hazy when I try to think of it, almost as if it was too terrible to confront. It was something about a ‘necessity to confront your self-delusion’, I think. Whatever it was, I know I didn’t care for the sound of it at all.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 19:39:01
Wow. See I say something nice and Duke just SLAMS me. I’m off to write a sad haiku now.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 19:43:06
Well, at least, Simon, it was apparently phrased nicely. I trust there were no misplaced apostrophes or the like.
I add the latter by way of hopefully further inspiring Zara’s sad haiku.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 19:45:55
Ouch.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 19:50:53
To stunned for a haiku, are we?
I shall now walk to the store, and when I return, I expect a very sad haiku.
Comment by Zara Potts |
2009-10-07 19:57:28
My heart is too sore.
No haiku, no more. ouch. ouch.
Haiku days over.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 20:04:41
Say it isn’t so,
to paraphrase a child’s plea
to Shoeless Joe.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 20:07:19
It’s sad but it’s true
No more sweet haiku for you.
Apostrophe that!
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 20:16:08
Sweet, you say? Like pie?
Oh, I forgot: you hate pie —
failed analogy.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 20:20:34
I do not hate pie.
Well, maybe just pumpkin pie.
No hater, am I.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 20:29:07
You forget key lime.
How could you? My heart is sore,
like yours, only worse.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 20:31:47
How can yours be sore?
When I have been sweet as pie?
No, MY heart is worse.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 20:38:35
All is ranked with you:
temperature and haiku
and now sore hearts, too.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 20:41:30
Let me remind you
I ranked you number one. One!
and I still do. True.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 20:47:26
One is a number,
the loneliest number,
worse than two. Dig it.
Comment by Lenore
2009-10-08 10:56:23
Tell your friend he’s super hot and he can call me. Also, I’ve never touched a dolphin, but I don’t want to. I have a feeling it would bother me. Or I would bother it. And no one wins when a dolphin feels bothered.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-08 20:50:49
Yeah, he’s a good-looking guy. I’ll tell him you said so. He might need a period of recovery, however.
As for dolphins, I think we’ve now established that, yeah, they’re probably best left unbothered.
I must say, however, as I don’t think I have so far, that I really do like dolphins, thugs though they may be.
Comment by sheree
2009-10-05 12:20:44
Once my husband gave me the silent treatment all day long.
Finally in the late afternoon I pulled a quick one on him.
We have two phone lines so I rang him up on the second line (his work call out line) I knew he’d answer that line he had too.
Heh, I made him laugh so hard that he forgot why he was giving me the silent treatment. I am a funny funny girl when the screws are put to me.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 18:00:41
Unfortunately, life really is kind of like a sitcom at times. I mean, you know how sitcom characters fight and make up and say, “I don’t even remember why we fought anymore.” That’s happened to me.
On the other hand, the silent treatment is traditionally a tactic only employed by women on TV, but I’ve easily seen it as much in life coming from the male of the species. However, there’s a difference between not feeling like you’re in a place to talk and the silent treatment proper. They’re often confused.
Comment by sheree
2009-10-06 10:48:13
I know what you mean. Really i do. When I was 45 I cut off the power of manipulation someone in my family had over me. They have not spoken to me since. That was years ago and they still believe that their power of silence will one day cause me to run back into their derranged world.
It bothered me at first but then one day I realized it was just one less persons problems to deal with.
I am open to people “utilizing” the power of my life to futher their own recovery. I can find no wrong in that type of codependant assistance where I am a willing partisipant, but to outright manipulate me into wrong doings because you cannot face the truth of your life and need me to help create a false one that you can live in…. ah, I’d really rather not. No good has ever really become of denying the truth. It only delays you from really living your life to the fullest.
I’ve learned the hard way to face the truth and be done with it.
Hope today is a better day for you.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-06 18:28:23
I’ve always considered myself a truth-facer to the nth degree, but sometimes it’s hard to know what the truth really is. I mean, some of my worst fears about myself were never manifested in action, yet I felt badly — and then some — for even thinking along those lines. But the next piece I propose to post at TNB may explain better what I’m trying to say.
Today went much better for me, thanks. There were some pressing matters that needed to be addressed immediately, financially speaking, and I think they have been. But my landlords…the less said, the better.
Comment by sheree
2009-10-06 19:14:27
Truth always has more than one view. Too long to explain but I think you know what I mean. and as for the invitation to friendship, certainly I’d be your friend. You inspire me. The message was for Dave. I felt bad that one so young should lose so many friends all at once. Thats just rotten.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-06 19:22:12
I enthusiastically accept your invitation. And you’re dead right about David: that’s horrible. I’ve been through situations almost that bad, but his takes the cake.
Original comment thread (part two):
Comment by Simon Smithson
2009-10-05 12:42:05
Ha! Sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, but the photo of Blaine got me…
People, man. I’ve had this lament many times with my amigo Julian. What’s with people? Why they gotta be such jerks?
Some would say that moving on is the key, but there’s danger in that. We found out some years afterwards that the cast-offs from our friendship group had formed a group of their own.
Maturely, we refer to them as ‘The B Team’.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 18:06:02
Per your remark about laughter, here’s the story of how I came to write and post this thing. I couldn’t work on anything else because I was too strung out about my financial situation. Then I wrote a first line about the situation with the relative, just kind of doodling, and that turned into a whole paragraph, and so on until I came to the bit about the Valley of the Dolls guy, and that cracked me up so much that I continued to the end, and I figured, oh what the hell, go ahead and post it.
In other words, it was meant to be funny, only I didn’t quite make it funny enough so that I think people realized my intent. My tragicomic streak, or something like that, kicking in.
But you know what else is funny, at least to me? Your castoffs forming a group of their own. You just know they’re talking mainly about you. Oh, to be a fly on the wall.
Comment by Simon Smithson
2009-10-05 18:32:27
We have this cherished mental fantasy, that the B Team’s nights are spent silently sitting around a card table. And about an hour in, with nothing said to preclude it, one of them bursts out ‘B for bodacious!
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 19:00:49
For some reason, your comment about B Team and bodacious! put me in mind of this ancient novelty record, which incidentally was introduced to me by the notorious Jay:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7NUtJoDG3sE
Comment by Simon Smithson
2009-10-06 21:52:21
Oh, man, I want even more now to find that classic Haypenny poetry bit with its perfect use of the word ‘delicious’.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 00:07:08
I’m so glad you listened, Simon. It’s such a weird recording — one of the weirdest I’ve ever heard. It pleases me to have shared it.
Comment by James D. Irwin
2009-10-05 13:07:44
I’ve been on TNB a few times over the last hour or so and didn’t even notice you’d posted.
And yet I stopped in and commented on Becca.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 18:08:35
Yeah, well. It was kind of an incognito piece, like a carry-on bag as opposed to real luggage.
I have no idea what that means.
Comment by Ben Loory
2009-10-05 14:30:21
andre malraux is one stylish motherfucker, huh? i never knew.
sometimes i think i am the only person in the world who keeps secrets. my head is filled to brimming with secrets because everyone’s always telling me shit. it’s like a pressure cooker in here, all of them flying around banging against the bony walls. someday i’m gonna put ‘em all up on ebay and get rich. but i won’t really cuz then i’d feel bad. and besides, people would kill me. i spend all my time trying to remember what i’m not supposed to say to who. what i really need is a pair of earplugs! wow, i just figured that out! thanks duke for leading me to this life-changing realization. and i’m sorry so many people are assholes.
Comment by Zara
2009-10-05 14:41:09
I agree with Ben. People are assholes.
Comment by Jude
2009-10-05 14:47:08
Not all people - especially the TNBers… just the rest!
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 18:24:39
But aren’t we sounding a bit elitist? Already these comment boards must give the impression of a club.
Comment by James D. Irwin
2009-10-05 15:30:36
I only like TNB people.
Seriously, I don’t really have any friends and I’m happy that way.
I mean I have casual friends, which amounts to little more than people to hang out with occasionally.
And then there’s my brother who is an asshole but also kind of cool. He is, to my reluctant acceptance, pretty much my best friend…
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 18:12:58
He set you up perfectly, huh, Zara?
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-05 18:16:07
Maybe I should write a blog about it.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 18:19:37
Great idea! Right after you write one about LA, followed by one in which you have a heat rash while giving a guy named Jimmy the telephone number of a mole.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-05 18:25:35
A Fucken Mole, thank you very much.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 18:57:28
Ah yes. I need to study the New Zellund accent a little more closely.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 18:11:16
You’d think, Ben, in my company, you’d have realized the need for earplugs long ago.
Also, confession is the curse of the quiet, as per Lucien in Banned — or the intelligent quiet, I should emphasize. Though the loud mistake almost anyone quiet for intelligent.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 18:17:27
These comments are being sequenced out of order again, so that I appear to be responding again and again to myself.
You know, James, I used to pride myself on not having friends as others defined them, but that changed at some point, and it may for you one day. All human relationships have their built-in problems, including the most casual.
But are TNB people only the contributors, or can readers too qualify? I hope the latter.
Comment by Stephanie St. John Olear
2009-10-06 12:41:26
The latter dammit! I’ve never met any of you and you’re all invited to my porch.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-06 17:32:55
You may not be so sure when you find me camped out there in the morning.
Comment by Stephanie St. John Olear
2009-10-07 03:31:47
I’m going to go look now.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 05:08:00
I got on a plane, only to discover that it was headed right back to L.A., damn it. Ah well. It was fun to fly in a circle, though the plane was no match for your porch, I’m sure.
Comment by Stephanie St. John Olear
2009-10-07 16:35:03
I hate when planes do that. Oh well, maybe tomorrow.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 18:17:45
Heading to the airport right now. Let’s hope, this time, I board the right flight.
Oh, and if you have any blueberry pancakes on hand, that would be nice.
Comment by Stephanie St. John Olear
2009-10-08 02:18:30
Ok - just went wild blueberry picking and made flour from the wheat I picked in the night - churned some butter while perusing through TNB comments, oh - I hear a plane overhead - Duke? Is that you? Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuke?
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-08 02:43:29
Well, what do you know. The damned plane turned around and came back again, though I could hear you yelling all the way down there.
Thanks for picking the berries and churning the butter and picking wheat at night. Could you freeze it all? I’m sure to show one day.
Comment by Stephanie St. John Olear
2009-10-08 07:02:28
I would have freezed it, but, I was attacked by a very large raccoon while waiting (and churning) on the porch. Or it might have been Greg, it was too dark to tell. All that’s left is some leftover strands of wheat. I’m off to the hospital now - can’t feel my arm. Oh well, maybe next time.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-08 07:08:59
The guilt! I apologize. Now I must definitely fly east in order to perform vigilante justice on that raccoon. Unless it turns out to be Greg, in which case I’ll just clean your house and look after the kids and stuff until your arm is better. It’s the least I can do.
And to think it was all because of blueberry pancakes! I’ll never eat them again, I swear.
Comment by Stephanie St. John Olear
2009-10-08 13:51:50
Well, that settles that. You’re hired.
Greg and I have discussed it and we think you’d be the perfect Manny for our household. And theeeeen, we could create the emmy award winning sitcom based on our antics and call it “Nanned For Life”.
See you soon!
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-08 21:03:56
Did I infect you with my pun virus? I think it does far better by you than it did, or does, by me.
Your proposal, meantime, comes exactly at the right moment. I accept the position, and, in the spirit of Simon Smithson, I look forward to the fortune to be made from our TV show.
I will, however, leave it to you to collect our Emmy. I’m sure I’d only embarrass myself.
Comment by Stephanie St. John Olear
2009-10-09 05:19:06
Dear Manny,
Instructions for tonite will be left on the porch.
Only call us if someone is unconscious and bleeding.
You are welcome to ask any of the other TNB-ers to come help if you get scared
of the dark or of the kids. Except Kimberly, as she will be with us tonite at the TK party.
Love,
your grateful employers
(ps: we’re just kidding - you can totally have the night off and come to the Happy Ending Lounge with us!)
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-09 07:23:14
I will hop a plane immediately. Let’s just hope this one doesn’t circle back to L.A., as have all the others.
Are there any TNBer whose help you’d prefer?
Your manny
PS
When’s payday?
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-15 20:04:26
Hmmmm. This was never answered, I see.
Comment by Greg Olear
In his book U & I — which is sort of a memoir, sort of a book about writing, and something every writer should read — Nicholson Baker suggests that it’s impossible for men to be friends with other men. He says something like, What’s the point. He’d certainly agree with your grim statement:
“On the other hand, I sometimes wonder if friends even exist; if maybe what we call friends are people who bond because of temporary necessity, and once the necessity has passed, the friendship follows.”
I don’t agree with him, and I don’t think you do, either. One of your endearing qualities that really comes out in your writing is how much you genuinely care about people. The reason you wound up being friends with a kid who was clearly an a-hole is that you are big-hearted (or largehearted, I should say, in light of this week’s writing). That means you have the capacity to have more friends, which makes you, on the flip side, more vulnerable to the dickheads. But that’s the hazard — it’s a gift, to be able to open up that way, and you should remember that when the bastards drag you down.
People who use the silent treatment in some sort of calculated way to manipulate their friends should be cut off and never dealt with again. And people who have to communicate their issues with you via backchannels? Fuck that too.
I’d guess anyone who has ever had friends and been told secrets has screwed up on occasion. The To Tell Or Not To Tell about someone’s infidelity is always thorny…the fault is with the cheater, of course, but the messenger is who gets blamed — on both sides, usually. A lesson I learned myself the hard way.
As for the piece: great, as usual. It’s about childish things, and you tell it in a way that mirrors cafeteria gossip. Very well done. And I love your allusions.
Good luck with your shit, and call me if you need anything.
G
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 19:44:42
Thanks, man. I’ll call you even if I don’t need anything and talk your freaking ear off. As Peewee would say: You know I will. (Is it immodest for me to admit that I love it when he says that?)
As for loose lips: yes, I think every one of us has been guilty of that at some point. But some secrets really do need to be guarded, because of the potential hurt involved. Infidelity can be the least of secrets, depending. But I’ll tell you: it’s hard for me to remember ever having felt so embarrassed as I do when the Valley of the Dolls guy rolled up and confronted John. I couldn’t believe word had been passed that quickly! And in a city the size of New York!
Funny that Nicholson Baker says that about friendship between men. It strikes me as a kind of fashionable comment, related to the notion that men aren’t supposed to have feelings of any sort. Of course, centuries ago, the opposite notion prevailed, as when Montaigne stated that only men were capable of true and abiding friendship. Which is also patently false, of course.
A few weeks ago, when Justin published his piece on hipsters, I commented that I’d been through all kinds of contortions (or some such word) regarding them. I’ve also contradicted myself on male friendship. At one point I definitely preferred women as friends. But I kept getting involved with my women friends, which obviously created complications, and partly for that reason I started hanging out more and more with guys, as I had as a kid, and found I liked the “gang” aspect of it. Then I started to think that guys finally made bad friends because they treated the whole thing with disrespect, always putting other matters first.
At this point, I don’t differentiate. I like the people I do, regardless of gender, though I do still enjoy hanging out with the guys, when the opportunity presents itself. I think there are things guys will say to each other that they’ll never say in front of women, and I don’t just mean crude talk; in fact, I largely mean the opposite. And for similar reasons I think women value their friendships with women.
But all kinds of arrangements are desirable, to me at least. And, yes, finally, I do believe in friendship. I’ve had the experience of lying in a hospital bed for weeks, reassembled after being shattered to bits, and I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through all that without those who daily came to visit. And yet I’m no longer in touch with most of those people. Very strange — or is it? I’m reminded of Kristen Elde’s piece on the transitory nature of relationships, though she of course had something very different in mind.
Comment by jmb
2009-10-05 17:07:46
-this redneck named Blaine-
Hey…
And what’s so bourgeois
about a boombox and a red bandanna?
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 18:26:57
Well, to be fair, he never wore a red bandanna. Oh, and Blaine was his first name, I want to emphasize!
I wanted to find a good picture of Mortimer Snerd, but I had to settle for Howdy Doody. Man, he’s frightening.
Comment by David S. Wills
2009-10-05 18:28:29
You spend years making them and it takes a second for them to vanish… I brought a few good friends to Korea with me. I fell out with one of them and she spread various stories without a hint of truth through everyone I knew back in Scotland - now I have lost each and every friend I made over 23 yrs of living.
Lesson - people are dicks. They are childish, stupid fucking dicks.
Cats are better.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 18:53:27
Not to underestimate what you former friend did, David, but it seems to me that people don’t terminate relationships because of gossip without already wanting to do so. They’re just waiting for a catalyst so that they can appear justified.
I say this because of a fallout (or is it falling out?) with yet another friend, which occurred this spring. I won’t bore you with the details, but, yeah, this person was, I later realized, ready to spring into action. I’d been history for some time already.
Do you think some of your former friends might be jealous of you? I mean, you do lead a very interesting life. I hope you agree.
Comment by sheree
2009-10-06 11:00:26
I’ll be your friend and you don’t even have to purchase me a ticket anywhere. I have a long list of people who will tell you that I am non judgemental and I keep secrets very well. As long as I am respected and not manipulated into a world full of lies I will greet you with a smile and always tell you the truth even if it means revealing my own faults. I wish you well.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-06 18:10:26
Was that invitation for me or David, Sheree? It’s to be coveted either way.
Comment by sheree
2009-10-06 19:16:19
Thanks and back at ya. The message was for Dave. I felt bad that he lost so many friends all at once. Thats a rotten thing to happen to one so young.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 00:03:10
I agree with you somewhere up above. Meanwhile, maybe David can supply a phone number for this egregious person so that everyone at TNB can prank-call her — hopefully for the rest of her life.
Comment by sheree
2009-10-07 09:09:05
I do have free long distance but I’m horrible at prank calls.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 09:11:14
Oh, I’m great at them. Just leave it all to me.
Comment by Matt
2009-10-07 08:39:38
Damn, David, that sucks.
And at the risk of sounding like a misogynistic asshole, it always seems to be women who do things like that. Every guy friend I’ve ever had a falling out with has been largely content to just tell me off, maybe shit-talk me a bit with a few other guys. A few of the gal pals I’ve fallen out with, though, have acted like it’s not enough that we’re not friends, they have to wreck my other friendships as well. Luckily, most of my other friends knew better than to pay attention.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 09:12:49
My brother might approve of your comment, Matt. He once said, “Where there’s a family feud, you’ll find a woman stirring it every time.” I think he had in mind my paternal grandmother: a champion shit-stirrer if ever there were one.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 09:34:38
Huh. That’s funny. In my experience, it’s always the men who are the worst shit stirrers and the most unwilling to forgive and forget or make amends.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 09:51:42
What was it Simon said? That women forgive and don’t forget, and men forget but don’t forgive?
That Simon. He’s got a saying for all occasions. Except, perhaps, where dolphin rape is concerned.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 09:58:24
He sure has. My saying for all occasions is simple: People are assholes.
Good. I’ve managed to say that twice in your comment board now.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 10:02:01
My saying for all occasions is: People have assholes. It’s upsetting, but undeniably true.
Comment by Matt
2009-10-07 10:07:31
I don’t think it’s intrinsic to all women, I just think it’s something women have a greater tendancy to do–to both guys and girls. I’ve known guys that while aggressively slander a woman, but when it comes to another former guy friend, it’s usually just amounts to “Ah, he’s a fucking asshole.”
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 10:12:39
Duke - Hah!
Undeniably true. Except for me. I don’t do bodily excretions/fluids.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 10:15:59
Not even tears? An onion says you’re wrong.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 10:18:08
Yes, I do tears. But only when people are assholes.
Comment by Simon Smithson
2009-10-07 11:50:04
Dolphins: assholes of the sea.
Comment by Matt
2009-10-07 13:00:13
Beg to differ. Sea lions are much bigger jerks.
Comment by sheree
2009-10-07 13:57:55
Sea lions are beasts!
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 18:16:17
Sea lions are cool. I just spent time with some in Santa Cruz this spring. How can anyone resist sea lion offspring?
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 18:26:17
Simon, was “Dolphins: assholes of the sea” your remark for this occasion? See above for explanation, if you didn’t already. Surely you could’ve added some Smithsonesque flourish along the lines of: “Dolphins forgive but don’t forget, and sea lions are hideous freaks with bad breath.”
Sorry I couldn’t do better, but, hey, I never made any claims for myself as Smithsonesque.
Comment by Simon Smithson
2009-10-07 19:07:05
I don’t know that I have any remarks up my sleeve re: dolphins. I’ve never given them much thought.
Now pigeons, on the other hand… if it were pigeons, I could happily reel off ‘Rats of the sky!’ and call it done. I was more idly labelling dolphins.
Damn it. Clearly my mental writing staff is taking an extended coffee break.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 19:15:48
Yes, take one, please. You’re Simon fucking Smithson! You’re supposed to, when you hear about anything, instantly rattle off a pithy remark that will be quoted voluminously by tomorrow’s water cooler. Not that I, for one, gather by a water cooler, but you get my drift.
Oh, and Matt, I’ve been meaning to say for some time that your “That guy is a fucking asshole” comment turns out to have been shrewdly placed, yes?
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 19:21:58
I’m standing up for my down under brother here.. Dolphins: Assholes of the Sea. Makes me laugh every time I think about it.
See, I’ve got your back, Simon.
Comment by Simon Smithson
2009-10-07 19:35:00
Boom! T-Pac for life!
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 19:39:46
High five.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 19:40:09
Well, well, well. I see the lay of the land — or the sea, as it were. How Machiavellian of you, Zara, after you earlier said the worst thing ever to Simon.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 19:44:50
There’s nothing Machiavellian about me. I’m an open book!
And besides it was the SECOND worst thing, not the worst. What are you going to do about it anyway? Tell me to go hang out with those losers that we saw on H’wood Boulevard? Oh that’s right, you ALREADY did!!!!
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 19:49:00
I can see by your liberal use of exclamation points that that remark got under your skin. I belatedly apologize — as I believe I did at the time, profusely, but you wouldn’t have it. What a shit-stirrer.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-07 19:51:55
Who me?!?
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 19:53:11
Said in the manner of Alfred E. Newman, no doubt.
Comment by JB
2009-10-05 18:46:52
Well, I enjoyed this, Duke. Kickass prose, per usual.
Look, I’ve always had my doubts about dudes who surround themselves with lots of friends. It just seems weird. I mean, I can get along just fine without anyone, really. Why does a guy need lots of friends? All I need is a working toilet, some books, meat, and a copy of The Stooges’ Fun House.
But I appreciate the friends I have. They’re far and few between. And we’re all growing up, shaking off certain vices, what have you. I guess I don’t take the growing apart part personally.
But as for the silent treatment, that’s some cold shit. Not to mention, counterproductive and dysfunctional, too.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-05 19:16:12
Like you, I don’t take the growing apart personally, but when friendships are severed on account of a blowup over a trifle — yeah, I do that that personally, because, as I somewhat said to David, I feel like there’s a lot of hidden resentment that’s been there for some time. Yet, sometimes, the resentment strangely isn’t personal — that is, you’re resented as a kind of scapegoat for thwarted goals: “I can’t get a girlfriend because of you,” or “I”m not getting ahead at work and it’s all your fault.” That kind of thing.
I used to feel that I could get along fine alone, and I still do, often. But I kind of shift through all kinds of modalities. I enjoy spending time with just one person, talking about stuff, and, yes, at times I enjoy hanging out in a big group of people. I think, with guys, there’s kind of a gang mentality that takes over. I’d be lying if I said I’d never enjoyed it. Even bands, as Bob Dylan once said, usually end up being gangs. But I definitely enjoy and, more to the point, need time alone. I only wish I had a fireplace for those times. I love the idea of reading beside a fire on a chilly night. I know that’s only a hop and a skip from “I enjoy long walks on the beach” (which, in fact, I do), but there it is.
As for the silent treatment, it’s a power play, pure and simple. Strindberg’s The Stronger, in which one woman garrulously confronts a silent rival, is a great example. The title says it all.
Oh, and thanks for the kind words about the writing. It’s especially appreciated in light of the speed with which I wrote this piece.
Comment by JB
2009-10-06 02:45:48
Ah, and when the Warriors finally got back to Coney Island, they were all thinking: what now?
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-06 18:07:17
True. But wasn’t that also sort of the implication of the last shot of The Graduate, when Dustin Hoffman has eloped with the girl he loves, yet now it’s sort of: “What next?” My point being that we’re faced with another chapter in every circumstance.
Comment by Erika
2009-10-05 21:48:41
Friends and family, family and friends both so interchangeable both enough to leave one extremely weary.
I’ve already told you about my friendship mishap which has never been resolved. However due that fall out I was ostracized by the rest of my “friends” without ever being called or given a chance to air my side of the matter.
But as they say everything happens for a reason. And after 6 months I now have concluded that this was all for my well being. I was becoming someone I didn’t like by associating myself with that particular group of friends. I like who I am now and found my social ca lander has been busier due to the freedom of having more than one social group.
I do tend to shut down in certain confrontation which some might mistake as the silent treatment. But the fact is that I am scared I might say something I can not take back. So I instead shut down and need time to cool off.
As for family that’s a bigger issue to discuss and being that I have taken so much of your comment board with this mini novel la I will leave that for another time.
It’s just unfortunate that all this has fallen upon you at one time. Thank god for alcohol.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-06 18:19:12
Actually, I’m sort of on the wagon at the moment. I allow myself a drink every so often, but the hangovers were killing me, and I also need to lose at least twenty pounds. I only gained weight in the first place because of all the boozing.
I’m sorry to hear that you were never able to resolve the situation with your friend, though you sound better for it. I likewise couldn’t work out an ideal solution in the matter which led to our first exchange. There was some talk, which was smoke without a fire. But, you know, it is what it is. Or was.
And, yes, family is a huge thing, even though they’re pretty much interchangeable, as we both seem to agree. I tend to treat friends as family, and for that reason I take problems with friends with the utmost seriousness. I guess it’s become a running theme for me at TNB, as it obviously is in life.
You didn’t take up much room at all on the board, incidentally, and I look forward to hearing from you again when you’ve returned from work as a glamorous showgirl. I hope you’ve continued to keep Carrot Top at bay.
Comment by Erika
2009-10-08 13:48:34
My computer was sick and at the Apple clinic so I actually sent the first comment through my phone, which made it, seem like a novel sized comment.
Anyhow sorry to hear you’re on the wagon-it’s all about moderation. Not that I’m a drunk or necessarily have a cocktail everyday but alcohol does make everything better. As well as food! I’m a totally “foodie” - love everything food and beverage related which is why I could never be on the wagon.
I as well tend to treat friends like family as mentioned to you before which is why I inevitably end up being devastated when the friendships don’t work out. I should clarify not all friendships but the ones I do cultivate into family like relations.
After my fall out with the last friend I was online and found this as my horoscope
There comes a point in your life when you realize:
Who matters,
Who never did,
Who won’t anymore…
And who always will..
So, don’t worry about people from your past,
there’s a reason why they didn’t make it to your future.
On that particular day I was feeling pretty sad about the situation and I guess the universe was trying to cheer me up or shed some sort on insight. Whatever it was worked so I saved it and refer beck to it when I’m feeling down. This also has helped me appreciate my two best friends (one of 22 yrs and the other of 10 yrs) even more.
As for dealing with family, sheesh, I don’t even know where to begin. My immediate family only includes my mother and sister but my extended family is huge and super close that means everyone is in everyone’s business all the time. I moved 3 states away to get away from all their drama but somehow still manage to hear all about it even after ten years of living away from them. The only difference now is that I don’t get involved.
For years I played the role of peacekeeper between my mother and sister but had to remove myself from the both of them for a couple of months. I had to do this for my own sanity. Because of my sabbatical from them they now try their best to not get me involved and are trying to repair the relationship however they do once in a while slip up and I have to set them straight on my involvement.
I could go on forever about my family, cant live with or without them.
As for CT - I can totally live without him.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-08 21:28:23
I never had any doubt in the matter of CT. And I now understand why your initial comment seemed long to you, as it didn’t to me. I mean, hell, have you seen some of my comments? I know you have, because one of my longest was my second one to you — on a piece not unlike this one.
I’m in agreement about moderation, and I now practice it. I didn’t for a long time. Once I had a drink, that was it, I was in for the long haul — and I promise you that I can drink a lot. It was the same for me with drugs: on a number of occasions, I did coke till my nose bled — and I’m not easily given to nosebleeds. For the moment, alcohol and I are taking a break from each other, even though we sleep together every once in a while. Will it lead to a permanent separation? Only time will tell. [stifled sob]
I wish, meantime, that I could read my horoscope one day and find something as poetic as you did. Is that from Kahil Gibran’s horoscope column written from beyond the grave? Oh, and I know someone who for years acted as the glue holding her mother and sisters together, and much glue was needed, since one of the sisters (who’d briefly been a minor movie star) was a junkie repeatedly arrested, and so on. She ended up moving to California (she was born and raised in NYC), in part, I think, to get away from them, but the drama followed her there. She eventually became a therapist. She’d certainly been prepared for it.
Like her, I now live far from my family, but, also like her (and you), it’s not possible to escape entirely. But that’s true in all things, yes? None of us gets out of here alive, as the saying goes. What a cheery thought!
And now to eat, as I barely have all day. I’ve been seeing food while on hiatus from alcohol. I like food, but I’m not sure if I’ll love it the same way I did alcohol. Why did alcohol have to be so difficult? Relationships sure can mess with your head!
Comment by tip robin
2009-10-06 05:32:42
“what we call friends are people who bond because of temporary necessity, and once the necessity has passed, the friendship follows.”
if this is true, then politicis truly rules the world.
for me, it is largely true for a lot of people i know. their friendships are tenuous at best and they vanish when something else more important comes along.
i tend to hold my loyalty as a friend olympically high, and when it gets broken i am crushed, but i have yet to become fully jaded about this, because i have met some gems along the way in adulthood.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-06 17:45:04
I hate to reduce friendship to a matter of locale, and it surely reflects my idiosyncratic experience, but I found my East Coast friends to be, in the end, much more loyal than those I made on the West Coast. I don’t know any of the people I met when I first moved to L.A., while I’m still in touch with many of my friends in NYC. Sad to say, the opportunistic idea of friendship I floated in this piece is probably a reflection of my time in L.A. Which, again, probably has more to do the people I specifically met in L.A. than the city itself.
Like you, Kip, I’ve met some gems in my life. Some sadly slipped away, but it usually wasn’t for want of effort on my part.
Comment by Becky
2009-10-06 07:22:17
It has been described as belligerent, childish, psychotic, and even masculine, but I can’t DO silent treatment.
I have to confront everything. It’s a compulsion. I have “fix it” disorder.
Passive aggression, which is what most–though not all–silent treatment is, makes my ass itch. Something about it causes an almost immediate loss of respect for the cold-shouldering individual. The act itself makes me sort of indifferent about the prospect of that person never speaking to me again.
I have been blessed–and in many ways spoiled beyond what I deserve–by a handful of individuals I have been able to call my friends for upwards of 15 years. They are people who, for the most part, treat friends like family–not to be taken up or thrown away easily. It’s a cliche, but it’s true. At some point, when you know a person well enough, their petty shortcomings quit being something worthy of personal offense, drama, or protest. They are just the way they are.
I tend not to want friends who don’t care to know me that well. I tend not to keep friends who don’t care to know me that well. I’m okay with that.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-06 19:16:06
I used to confront everything. I still confront a great deal, but I’ve backed off a little. Sometimes situations correct themselves if people are given room to breath — that is, they aren’t being forced to account for actions that themselves would prefer to forget.
On the other hand, unfortunate traits tend to be permanent. A former friend, about whom I wrote earlier at TNB, drove away from a minor accident not long after I met him. His car had rolled downhill and crashed into the back of my neighbor’s car, and he should’ve left a note, but he didn’t. The neighbor ended up blaming me for the damage to his car, though he never confronted me personally, passing his suspicions along to one of my roommates. I knew at the time that this incident pointed to poor character on the part of my friend, and, sure enough, further proof was soon in arriving.
I’ve done the silent-treatment thing, but it never brought me any satisfaction. I have my faults, but passive-aggression isn’t one of them. It’s maddening to deal with passive-aggressive types. I’ve done it, and I felt like an emotional janitor, always having to clean someone else’s mess. I’m glad to say I seldom do it now. I wish I could say it never happens, but those who traffic in passive-aggression are insidious, always finding ways to sneak past even the most sophisticated defenses.
Comment by Becky
2009-10-07 03:51:14
Unfortunate traits (and many fortunate ones; let’s not be pessimistic) DO tend to be permanent. My meaning is that at some point, for that very reason, it is simply not worth the trouble to keep taking offense to a chronic condition. In other words: Nobody is perfect. You know the score, you have appraised the situation in terms of what is within or beyond your control, and you make a call.
Remain friends and don’t bother being offended at shortcomings that have nothing to do with you and that you can do nothing about…or move on. That’s my general philosophy. Though I should point out that I would never shut the door on someone completely. I don’t go in for “never” and “friend break-ups.” That seems childish to me, too.
Though I may also be spoiled on this account since I have never had a friend who was so utterly and completely dangerous and/or miserable to be around that “breaking up” seemed like a necessary thing to do. Some people wander or go a little insane, but none have been wholly unworthy, I guess.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 05:46:54
Unfortunately, once or twice, I did end up severing contact with friends, but never with an official announcement. In one of those instances, I later extended an olive branch via voice mail, but the call wasn’t returned. Most of my “dead” friendships have expired from natural causes. The interest, for whatever reason on both parts, was no longer there.
I have a tendency, at the beginning, to idealize people I like. That’s really childish, I know, but it’s not excessive. I just want to think the best of them, and I know there’s going to come a point when I have a complete picture, including shortcomings, but I like to enjoy the honeymoon phase, so to speak.
You’re absolutely right about fortunate traits, by the way. I hadn’t considered that, and, yes, it does point to pessimism. My shrink, if I still saw one, would have a field day.
Comment by Stephanie St. John Olear
2009-10-06 09:32:47
I have alot of homework to do as of late, so my time on the internet needs to
be more wrangled then this past summer where I could read all of the TNB posts and comments all night long, soooo, that said, when totally killer greg told me you had a new piece up, I resisted, knowing I’d be in it for the long haul.
But kind of like Jason saying he wasn’t going to call Irina when he got home and then promply found himself pushing buttons, I just couldn’t help but read your piece. Then I said I wouldn’t comment, knowing it would drag me in and keep me on this laptop way more than I should be. But here I am because…..as I was reading and as it was ending - I had been transported again into Duke’s world - and I wanted more. Just great writing - makes so unaware that I’m even reading. And I feel like I should just tell you. In the name of all things unsilent!
And that said, my step-mom and my dad used to stop talking to me for periods of time as well as my “best friend” Danielle Morgan in 5th grade. I’ve spent so much money on therapy trying to undo what silent treatments have done to me from family members. They totally created this weird thing in me where I was always afraid I had done something wrong. This is why friendships have always been more valuable to me than my family. And there’s a difference between silent treatments and needing some time to process something - a big difference. And you’re right - it really is a control thing.
I haven’t read through everyone’s comments, but I’m sure there is much outpouring of love and adoration for you. And I would like to add to that pitcher of imported love beer on draft that keeps showing up at the table.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 00:00:56
Sorry to have pulled you away from your homework, Steph, though I’m of course flattered to have done so, and flattered still more that you cite BFL in explaining.
Per Danielle Morgan and my friend Jay, I wonder if the fifth grade is the peak period for power-tripping “friends.” But to have parents, including step parents, give a kid the silent treatment — that’s beyond the pale.
I know exactly what you mean about the sense that you’ve done something wrong. I have that feeling constantly, to the point where I reflexively say “I’m sorry” or “Excuse me” when nothing of the kind is called for.
I had meant to post this comment hours ago, but I got an international call that pulled me away from the computer. However, I will gladly accept that pitcher of imported love beer, and I send you the same, hopefully to be drained in your company in the very near future.
Oh, and digging the new gravatar!
Comment by Litsa Dremousis
2009-10-06 11:27:31
D.R., I fucking love everything about this. Hilarious, deeply insightful re your own behavior and others’, and eminently relatable. Note perfect. More, please.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-06 17:27:16
Be careful what you wish for, Litsa.
Well, you didn’t exactly wish for anything, but you know what I mean. I’m glad you see insight. As much as I seek it, I’m always sure it eludes me.
Comment by will ambrose
2009-10-06 14:55:37
holy shit, duke. one hundred and one comments since yesterday? who the hell are you–vincent gallo?
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-06 17:25:04
Ha! Gallo is, or was, friendly with mutual friends, and I doubt he’d appreciate any comparison.
When we have coffee later this week, Will, I’ll fill you in.
Comment by Marni Grossman
2009-10-06 21:42:09
In college, a friend broke up with me because I wasn’t “radical” enough for her. She wrote, “I’ve enjoyed our time together, but I think that our friendship as an entity is over.” “Our friendship as an entity”? Still the most ridiculous note I’ve ever received. And our politics were never particularly divergent. At Vassar, most people range from “very liberal” to “very, very liberal.” There had to be another reason.
While I consoled myself with the fact that she wasn’t, after all, a particularly nice person, it still stung.
You can’t help wondering if maybe it was you.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-07 00:16:31
I remember that “entity” bit from another exchange we had. Still seems bizarre.
Rejection is always a shitty feeling, no matter the source. And you’re right: I’m sure there was another reason, though she was probably incapable of articulating it. People terminate relationships, including friendships, for all kinds of reasons that remain murky, even to themselves.
But I have a feeling, in the case you cite, it wasn’t you. I mean, any person who can refer to a friendship as “an entity”…
Comment by Gina Frangello
2009-10-08 07:35:44
So frustrating. The silent treatment is just so soul draining. When my mother-in-law wouldn’t speak to me for 5 months after my first novel came out–wouldn’t even come and visit her newborn grandson to whom I gave birth the month after the book’s release–so help me it just drained so much from me. At this amazing time (new book, new baby!) I felt exhausted and angry and nervous and worked up all the time. My stomach would lurch every time the phone rang. I felt like I was drowning in bile. It took so much focus from the good things, and I regret now that I allowed that to happen . . . but I guess it’s kind of inevitable. Rejection from friends or family is just so hurtful, even if it comes from someone you’ve always had trouble with. Even–or maybe especially–when their behavior seems bizarre, irrational and hateful and you know for a fact it is not “you” and really is them.
Yes, hoping it doesn’t get “any worse” for you, Duke.
And Marni, yeah: not you. Definitely her.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-08 08:02:46
Thanks, Gina. I’m shocked that your mother-in-law responded in such a way to your book. Not even to see her grandson — talk about irrational!
As a preemptive measure, I told my parents not to read my book. I don’t think anyone in my family has read it so far, and this one is a walk in the woods compared to the one I have in mind for my next. I’d like to say it’s in progress, but that might be an overstatement. Still haven’t quite figured it all out yet.
Loved reading about you in Irene’s TNB Chicago rehash. Great photo of you, and now I hope to one day hear you speak in the voice that’s apparently a must-hear.
Comment by Zara Potts
2009-10-08 12:09:34
200!
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-08 20:59:39
You did it again. The celebration begins in sixty seconds.
Isn’t that a line from something — a movie or a song? Or is it a line from many movies and songs? Or maybe I’m thinking of Jim Morrison announcing that “the ceremony is about to begin,” which is very different. I’m not sure that a Morrison ceremony would amount to a celebration, but I’m sure I’d find it fascinating.
Comment by Erika Rae
2009-10-08 16:35:48
Oh man - I’m really late to reading this. Please, like, um, don’t take it personally. I think you’re circumstantially tops. Insofar as we are both writers on TNB, anyway. You know. Just don’t read too much into that. Totally a platonic and probably temporary sort of thing. But I’m sure if I ran into you in 30 years in a bar and you needed a quarter for the pay phone, I’m sure I’d lend it to you. Or not. There probably won’t be pay phones in 30 years.
(Aw, come on, Duke! I’ll be your REAL friend! Hugs?)
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-08 20:58:27
Aw, Erika, you know I love you already. I mean, hey, I don’t cold-call just anyone at midnight while driving down the highway — or riding shotgun, as it were. And any time you show up, late or early or somewhere in between, is fine by me, just so long as you do.
Comment by Ducky
2009-10-08 17:11:38
He might even have tortured her, which he could easily have accomplished by turning on his synthesizer.
-I love it when snot comes out on a laugh.
I sometimes wonder if friends even exist; if maybe what we call friends are people who bond because of temporary necessity, and once the necessity has passed, the friendship follows.
-I wish I didn’t agree with you.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-08 20:55:20
I wish I didn’t agree with myself — that is, when I’m feeling dark.
About your response to the synthesizer line: Jerry Seinfeld once said that he decided to become a comedian when, as a kid, he told a joke to a friend who laughed so hard that milk came out of his nose. It’s a rush, innit? Thanks for providing me with one.
Comment by Kymberlee della Luce
2009-10-24 06:57:01
I love the honesty of this, Duke. It’s so fucking true. Some relationships are worth it even if it is messy but honestly, some aren’t. I think becoming a human (not a grown up) takes a lifetime and we get lots of chances to learn how to choose carefully and put ourselves in more life-affirming situations.
Sorry about the finances. I hope things are getting better.
Comment by D.R. Haney
2009-10-25 20:35:54
Actually, they grow a little worse by the day, but I consider comments like yours compensation.
It does take a lifetime, doesn’t it? May God have mercy on us all.
Haha… Blaine and his boombox! Cool!
Behold thy creation!