Sinister: A Summer Wasting
Jay Eckard
jayeckard at xxx.com
Wed Jul 2 21:09:13 BST 2003
SInisterines...
I rather distinctly remember writing a little post this time last year
about How Damn Hot It Was. Not really much of a repeat year, as it seems
determined to rain at least 80% of the time. Not that I'm complaing: the
rain makes a pleasing sound as it hits the magnolia leaves just outside my
bedroom window. It's all Romantic, you know, A Year Without Summer. It makes
me want to take to writing novels based on dreams in Swiss chateaux.
I've been quite busy not being bust at all the past little bit. My friend
and a notable Left-Handed person, Eric Cheesybun, came down for a few days.
I used this as an opportunity to drive him around North Carolina.
To further cement this as a Sinister experience, we went to go visit Laura
Llew the very night she was selling (shilling) the new Harry Potter book. I
was excited to see her in action when the crowds got ROWDY. There was
counter-thumping and raised voices: *thump on the sales counter* "You'll all
have to SETTLE DOWN NOW or my Bookstore Boy will Toss you out on the
street!" It was like seeing a wild horse bucking against some noble Western
background or an eagle swooping down on a fish. Very bracing.
Unfortunately, prompt at 1 am, the said BookStore Boy (read Mook) tossed
even us out into Main Street Easley. Llew takes no sass from nobody.
On our drive home, Eric and I experienced the further granduer of the two
way Interstate Highway exit. Yes, the onramp and off ramp were the same
thing, so we saw a little Ford Escort plunging towards us at 60 mph. This
was 4 in the morning.
We had other various exploits: deer-dodging and wandering lost and
Delaware Diners.
But. I have a point.
Now, because of an offer I made in driving up to New York next month to
see the Belle and Sebastion show, many people have written asking me about
meet ups.
*pulls out a map, a wooden pointer and a picture*
*slaps the map with pointer HERE*
This is Durham, NC where I live.
*slaps the map with pointer THERE*
This is New York City, New York, some 800 miles away. I do not live
there. In fact, I've only been there once or twice.
*shows picture*
This is a picture of me, soaking wet and shivering, in boots and a
leather car coat, back when my hair was long and shaggy. You can see the
rain dripping off me and steam coming from me in the cold. If you look
closely, you can see lots of closed shops in the cityscape behind. It's New
Years Day in Manhattan. There are two people running briskly away in the
extreme left of the picture and a blurry Llew-like person in the foreground
who is marginally drier.
This is the extent of my knowledge of New York, so maybe somebody who
lives there/knows the place will suggest some manner of plan for a meet up.
Cause if no-one else does, I'll make plans based on my extremely sketchy
knowledge: we can meet up Across 110th Street, then go down to see the
Luckiest Guy on the Lower East Side, but I Don't Want to Go to Chelsea
beacause New York is Like a Graveyard. Yeah New York.*
Yours,
Jay
*These directions brough to you by Bobby Womack, the Magnetic Fields, Elvis
Costello, the Moldy Peaches and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
--
"The Posby falls into a Trance
In which it does a little Dance."
Edward Gorey
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