First of all, there are so many connotations, misrepresentations and misunderstandings (Nobody understands me!). It seems to me that a lot of people hear the word “Hedonist” and think of things like devil worship or Satan. Which, truth be told, is not all that far off if you consider Satan as Anti-Christ. What did Christ do? He gave of himself with no consideration of self. He was a martyr. I realize that I’m supposed to have some gratitude for that, some appreciation for the sacrifice, but I do not. What I do have is a certain amount of resentment for a debt that I did not sign up for and spent the first part of my childhood on my knees for. Even the banks have disclosure documents that we can read if we want to.
I have no patience for martyrs and I do not believe in altruism. I don’t even like the idea of altruism, that nameless, faceless, ego less, inhuman, weird idea. You can give anonymous gifts all day long, but I will have a difficult time believing that you don’t benefit from it, in self-satisfaction, if nothing else.
What I do believe in is goodness and the desire to feel good and the pleasure that we take when we feel that we’ve benefited someone. That feels honest to me. It feels human and it’s a tell that I believe that people are inherently good. This might mark me as a rube, but all I can tell you is what feels right to me. Based on what I’ve observed, it makes people feel pleasure to make their loved one’s happy. That’s the great news, it makes being selfish a valiant thing. You know that saying “If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy”? Well, it’s like that except that if there is someone in the house that isn’t happy, Mama ain’t gonna be happy.
When you’re sitting on an airplane, listening to the flight attendant tell you what to do in an emergency, please notice that she or he will feel it necessary to tell you to put the oxygen mask on yourself first. They will tell you to make your small children wait for the air until you have yours. There is a reason that they feel the need to tell you this, your instincts are to go without air until your children have theirs. Now, this is probably just your average survival-of-the-species instinct, but on the outside, it looks selfless, nice and kind. It’s really an act of hedonism.
I’m not “nice” or “sweet” or “kind” unless it’s by default. I just love people and trust me, if I do something for you it is because it benefits me somehow. You will never owe me anything because I have gotten mine. Does that have an unsavory ring to it? Well, it’s honest and at least I’ve made the terms available.
In my long of tooth experience it is the people who are not honest with themselves who are the most offended with my view of altruism and hedonism. The one’s who give as a mode of manipulation and most definitely do expect something back from you and more than likely it will be something that you do not want to give. A debt of gratitude, a debt of servitude, a debt of groveling. Listen; always look a gift horse in the mouth.
And then there’s the math. I’ll tell you, I am constantly doing math problems. The hedonistic calculus keeps me busy all day. I get propositions. I get ideas. I have to weigh each one with such caution… what is it going to cost me, what will I gain from it? Will it take longer to rebuke it than to just do it? It might be work, but what will I attain at the end of it? How will it add up? This can get very complicated.
At some level we are all hedonists, we all make these guilt avoidance decisions. We all choose what is going to make those around us more comfortable because in the end that will make us comfortable. There is no sainthood, there is no religion involved, there is no charity. If you throw money at Haiti or buy a cow from heifer.org please don’t tell me that you don’t get a thrill from that. It’s nice, it’s lovely and it’s helpful but do not tell me that it’s altruistic. It is beautiful to be in a place where you can help others. At this point, it’s a luxury to be able to feel that.
How is it that some people don’t seem to feel guilt? What about that guy down the street that is trying to talk you into buying his 2,000 year old car with 8 million miles on it? He knows he’s going to have to see you every day and yet he still keeps talking, he just want’s the 500 bucks. It’s worth it to him at the moment.
Well, I don’t know, I really don’t, maybe he’s just a horrible person with no conscience, but my instincts tell me that he is a bad hedonist. He just hasn’t figured out the math. He might be a good member of his church, but he’s lousy at figuring out what’s going to work for him in the long run. He hasn’t been honest with you or himself and if you buy that car, you might end up with a POS but he’s going to have to watch the tow truck move it around and close his curtains in shame.
To be a hedonist you have to be honest. You don’t get to hide behind a mask of bullshit ethics or religion or even “kindness”. You just have to please yourself. In the end it is far more difficult than one would think, “hedonist” does not equal sociopath or pathological liar or borderline personality or satanic worshipper or idiot. If only it was that simple! I could just buy a thousand candy bars instead of making a mortgage payment and read books all day instead of working. But most often delayed gratification is necessary and the need to take others into consideration is paramount.
Every Wednesday at a place called “The Basement” in Long Beach there is an entertainment that is worth the drive from wherever you are in this lower section of California. You know its always going to be a drive, right? Once you surrender to that, your options are phenomenal and “The Lightbulb Mouth Radio Hour” is a perfect example. It became shiny for me when I saw that Hannah Wehr was going to do a feature there and since I adore her and her work I went to the website to look into it. Here it is, doesn’t this look enchanting? … Lightbulb Mouth Oh, and look – Brendan’s featuring there too! Looking at the show listings, they have a great lineup planned, lots of incredible talent.
Buddy Wakefield
Colin Baines & Buddy Wakefield
You know how you get sucked in by a good graphic artist and a pretty logo and then the end result is disappointing? That happens to me all the time, I love good packaging and marketing just slays me. I’ll buy stuff from Apple just to get the box. Well, this isn’t that. When we got there a very nice man greeted us at the door, took a very small chunk of change ($6.00) and stamped our hands. Look up and there is Buddy Wakefield at a table, greeting everyone with that sparkly eyed grin that just melts you. Being an optimist with a very bad memory, I always bring my camera with me but I try to have good manners about it and ask permission (I do so hate getting yelled at). I asked Buddy if he would mind if I took his photo in general and specifically I wanted to get a photo of him with Colin. He was so far beyond gracious that he instantly got creative and said “let’s do this” and became the perfect model; he’s hot and he knows what he’s about. We made a few images and Colin bought the new CD and Buddy signed it for him.
The lighting is warm and rich and the decor is gorgeous. It is not mandatory but they do encourage cocktail attire and so most everyone is dressed nicely but not in any kind of a pretentious way so that you feel like it’s a contest, just lovely. Next thing you know Buddy and other people are asking Colin if he wants to read in the 6 poet competition. Colin was not prepared for that and so he initially declined.
They have managed to procure champagne in a can with a straw. It was a little dark and so that is as detailed as I can get on that other than to tell you that it’s a headache in a can and the straw is too short and so you’ll loose it in there right away. It is a charming novelty though and I’m sure I’ll order it again. ($5.00)
Ray Barbee
The format is that of an old time radio show. There are chairs on the stage and microphones strategically placed. Every week there is an author, a musical guest and an “informationalist”. Buddy was the author, the musician was Ray Barbee, who also happens to be a professional skateboarder and the informationalist was Wendie Wilson, a fertility expert. Ray started the show and it was magic. Up there all by himself with a guitar he filled that room, you could feel it in your soul. He played a few songs and then sat down with our host, Derrick Brown, for a bit of a chat. This is the part where you feel like you’re an audience for a radio show – funny sound effects, applause sign. Derrick gave Ray a test on skateboard terms and I’m not going to give it away because I know that we can look forward to a podcast, but I have to tell you that it was impressive and amusing.
Buddy Wakefield & Derrick Brown
Same thing with Buddy and Wendie, they did their thing and then sat in the hotseat. If you haven’t experienced Buddy Wakefield, do a YouTube search and you’ll see what I mean when I tell you that he is very talented. Live, he is not only talented but sweet and funny and incredibly charismatic. He is one of those people who light up a room just by walking into it. I did not know that I was going to write this, if I had planned on it I would have taken notes and a lot more photographs, and so we have to put up with my sketchy memory as far as what happened when. That is OK though because, as I mentioned above, I have high hopes for a podcast of the evening.
Wendie Wilson was very informative! We learned about donating eggs and sperm. For instance, if you are a man who is not that interested in having sex but you like to masterbate, you could make $5,000 a month as a donor! Wendie is very well spoken, intelligent and has a great sense of humor.
Colin Baines
Then there is a break.
After the break, Buddy did another piece and the judges scored his performance. This begins the open reading/competition between the first 6 people to sign up. By this time we had arranged to have Alexandra email one of Colin’s poems so that I could get it on the iPhone. He signed up for the reading just in time, he was #6. All 6 performers were very good but the judging and audience was a little on the brutal side. One poet got the hook! After watching that, I cannot imagine how nervous Colin must have been, it was the first time he’d read anything in a venue other than PondWater! But he did great and all things considered got a decent score from the judges. I would have passed out at the mere suggestion of it.
From what I understand there was a dance party after this but we needed to leave. We met so many nice people that night and all of the performers were interesting to talk to afterward. I can’t recommend this venue highly enough – these guys really know how to host an event and make everyone feel welcome. Well, aside from the sacrificial poet who got the hook, but I spoke to him after the show and he was a very good sport about it.
Have you read/seen Douglas Kearney’s books? Have you seen him read? If so, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about when I tell you how much of a thrill it was to have him here reading for us. He read from both books, the first, “Fear, Some” and his latest, “The Black Automaton”.
Doug’s poems are visual art, or sketches, drawn on the page, and so when you read them you are presented with a typographical audio/visual experience unlike anything I’ve seen in any other book of poetry. You feel the layers and explosions and emotions before you even begin to read the words. Flipping through the book at first perusal (“The Black Automaton”), I fell on page 62, “Swimchant for Nigger Mer-folk (an aquaboogie set in lapis)”. Before I knew what the hell I was looking at, I was already drawn in to the falling chaos and confusion. As you read it, you realize that the sharks and sea creatures are not confused at all, they know exactly what is going on. So as not to be confusing myself, let me explain that this poem is about The Middle Passage. It is an account and a soundtrack to the slave ships bringing the captured slaves to America. Doug refers to it as “A peppy poem about the middle passage”, and it is. But it is so much more than that (and he knows that). As I said, there are layers and when you are alone and you read this poem, you go through some changes; from peppy to appalled to just grief. I’m not sure if that is what he intended, I’m just a reader, but that has been my experience and I suspect that this man knows exactly what he’s doing.
Page 13: “The Black Automaton in Tag” You are confronted with the word NEGRO and all of a sudden there is a huge black man in the room and there is no ignoring it or glossing over it/him. You are then presented with a number of choices and there is no getting out of them, you have to make them. And a final choice as to whether it is an explanation point or a question mark. You choose, he’s not going to do it for you. It’s goddamned beautiful.
Nicole & Douglas Kearney (trust me girls, the voice is killer but, alas, he is married to a very sweet girl named Nicole and they are expecting twins!)
Now, if I’ve done my job, you have some idea of the depth of his printed work and so I hope that you’ll have more of an appreciation for what it is to hear him and watch him present it to you. He is a performance artist, he takes this already rich material and adds yet another layer to it with his voice and delivery. He writes librettos, teaches at Cal-Arts, has produced operas, is in a hip hop band, he understands a stage.
Oddly enough, he understood this living room as well and mastered it. Yes, yes, he had to deal with Dexter and his tip tapping, but when I informed him that Brendan had read a poem to Dexter he said “well, I was going to do that too”. And he did. Towards the end of the evening he read from the collection of Floodsong poems that were written as a reaction to Hurricane Katrina. They are all written from the point of view of the animals who benefited from that disaster. He read “Floodsong 8: Strayed Dog’s Call &” and just as he got to the last few lines that read “good doggy good doggy” what do I do now.” Dexter got up and gained attention. Doug offered to pay him and take him on the road.
I know that I should tell you about the food or the raffle but what I want to tell you about are the Floodsong poems. So brilliant to dive down and get a perspective from that angle. As Doug said, there are plenty of voices in New Orleans to speak of the human suffering, no need for an Angeleno to try and tell it (I am so paraphrasing). From a poet’s point of view, wanting to cry out about it, this is such a creative and effective way to do it. Hearing the mosquitoes sing in ecstasy, the alligators with their throaty love songs, once again there is the shallow “ha ha” and the simultaneous feeling of loss in your gut. Getting twisted like that is pretty amazing and I appreciate it so much even if it can be somewhat emotionally exhausting.
About a week ago I told someone that I didn’t like poetry. It runs the gamut from ridiculous thinness to complete exhaustion and that day I had just had enough. It’s all emotional and don’t think that the reader is any less a victim to it. Very often the poet is purging and the reader is some sort of exorcist. It was a moment of weakness and I think that it might actually prove out how powerful poetry can be. It can be the ruin or the redemption of a reader.
Douglas Kearney wrecks me in a way that I appreciate most. He’s smart and his poems need to be worked over the same way he’s working me over. I feel like there is a give and take and we’re in it together.
Yes, we had wine and cheese and cookies and coffee and some other stuff, I’m sure. But having Doug here and accessable and being able to talk to him was so powerful that I haven’t been able to remember who won the raffle. Well, ok, I do think that I have notes. I can tell you. And there is video as well. I’ll add that all later, for now, I wanted to tell you about this.
Have I mentioned that Colin Baines did his very first reading in front of people that evening? No? How ridiculously remiss. He was wonderful and I am so proud of him! He and Douglas share some of the same influences and so it was really great that they got to chat. Here, I’ll show you, there are videos of the two poems that he did.
Nicole, Douglas, and Jeannette
Peggy Dobreer (she'll be reading at the February event with Jenny Noa!) & my good, great friend, Rebecca Fazio
Shannon, Peggy & Louise. I don't know what these girls where up to, but they're caught!
Joanne Qualey Baines
PO Box 3025
Covina, CA 91722
joanne@hedonistreview.com
Sometime around 1976 I got a job in a stationary store in a Mall. I was 16. Malls are weird if you are in them every day for hours. I put a hat that I liked very much on lay-away. When I finally owned it, I wore it to work. My boss said to me “what do you think this is, the Easter Parade?” and made me take it off even though I had hat hair for the rest of the day.
In 1978 I got my dream job at a record store. I spent all of my money on records for the next 5 years.
I then spent about 3 years volunteering for the Alliance for Survival. Our chapter was responsible for the backstage catering for events such as “Survival Sunday” at the Hollywood Bowl. This included the crew and dressing rooms. We held fund raisers to make the money to buy the food. We also spent a lot of time on the phone soliciting companies who were “sympathetic to our cause” (I’ve always hated the way that sounds – makes me cringe) to give us cases of carrots or eggs or bananas, things like that. The Unitarian Church let us use their commercial kitchen for prep. I learned that unions and riders are a challenge. I also learned how to make a radish rose.
After leaving the record store I became an Avon Lady and went to school to learn accounting, filing and Gregg Shorthand. Approximately 10 minutes later no one knew what Gregg Shorthand was.
In 1983 or 84 (some of these things overlap) I worked as a dispatcher for an arcade game company and would take the calls when Pac Man broke and send out the nearest truck. My boss’s son kept an ouzi in the warehouse and insisted on showing it to me every time I had to go back there. I drove a forklift once and a stake bed truck once a week to China Town.
At this point I started writing letters to strangers and became a vampire poet. By that I mean that I wrote poems for and about vampires along with some occasional erotica. I joined the Undead Poet’s Society and won second prize in a poetry contest at the local community college. My poems were published in a number of horrible horror poetry journals which have since disintegrated due to exposure to the sun.
I left that job to work as administrative support for a start-up software company. The company was purchased but the new, enlarged company did not need two of me. Can you imagine?
For over five years I was the bookkeeper at the SGV Postal Credit Union. At the end of this time I had to leave because I could not stop crying.
I wrote a very long letter to Alice Cooper (I continued writing letters to strangers while I was at the CU. At some point I wrote a letter to the LA Coroner’s office that resulted in some Sheriffs coming to talk to me but I don’t think that belongs in this document). I felt that I needed to thank him for giving me an outlet for my angst when I was a teenager. I also felt a need to tell him some stories. The letter was about 12 pages long.
Alice’s assistant, Renfield, called and asked for me. I told him that I wasn’t in. He had asked for “Joanne Baines” and as you can imagine from the previous paragraphs, I just assumed that it was a debt collector. He called back though and did it right, just asked for Joanne and we talked for some hours.
For the next 20 years or so I assisted Renfield in his duties. Opened and sorted all of the fan mail, boxes of fan mail. Did errands like picking up leather pants from the tailor, collecting Alice’s head from Renfield’s closet and taking it to the post office without being a smartass on the customs slip so that it actually got to Germany. Photoshopped Alice’s face on a dollar bill and took it to Kinko’s. You know, stuff like that. I penned a quote that was attributed to Alice for a Ramones promo piece. “The Ramones have always endorsed family values that Alice could appreciate”. Yeah, that was me.
I worked for AOL for a couple of years doing online tech support. People would come into a chat room and ask questions and I’d answer and send them on their way. There was a macro keyboard set up so that 99% of the questions could be answered with a couple of keystrokes. It was tense in this house when I was doing it because I took it as a challenge to get the most people in and out of that room. I met Rent-A-Hacker there. He’s a good kid.
Since these activities were only part time, I wrote a business plan for an ISP in the Coachella Valley. I secured the financing, built the WAN, designed the user interface and called it CyberVille. I was the Mayor of CyberVille. My business partner was heavily into D/s and so he spent all of his time bossing people around in a chat room on AOL. Once he began using all of the capital to hire slaves who were of no use to me in running the company, I staged a coup, took over the dungeon and sent the slaves home. Unfortunately, I was too late and by that time there was only about 38 cents left in the budget. The investors and I decided to kill it.
I went home and in 1997 started Manic Web Design & Hosting. I also developed a terrific fear of driving about this time and so it made sense to work from home. Alice Cooper was my first client and I did his site for about 12 years until his merchandising company took over. To be honest, I wondered what took so long.
Sitting at a computer all day is really pretty unhealthy and so at some point I decided that I needed some balance. I went out into the yard and dug everything up, created paths, made flower beds, planted herbs and fruit trees and various other odd things that I cannot afford to buy at the market. I’m actually not sure how this happened but I was looking at something and found a recipe for making soap. Just basic soap with lard and lye. That seemed magic to me and I tried it. You just need lard and lye and water and some fragrance and some castor oil makes it nicer, if you ask me, and you end up with the most beautiful bar of soap that makes your skin soft and smells good and lasts a long time. So, I really got into that, with the shea butter, cocoa butter, all sorts of additives and herbs, chamomile, calendula, etc.
As usual, my obsessive behavior got out of hand and I had so much soap that I had to do something with it and so I started selling it at all of the local Farmer’s Markets under the name “Kitchen Witch” – that’s because of the magic part. But when I set up the Yahoo Group for Kitchen Witch, things went weird. Before you know it I had 1500 pagan witches trading spells and lighting candles for each other. I liked it, they are nice people. But I’m no more of a witch than any other woman and I’m not going to start praying to onyx stones and such. Although I do like candles and started making them too. So I left. I just left and now it is litter on the side of the misinformation superhighway and the spammers have overtaken it. I still reserve the right to grow things and make soap and various other lotions and potions.
2002 or 03 or 04 – set up a separate server for “Adult” content. Renfield had a friend who had been badly used by previous webmasters and so what could I do? Besides, the adult sites are the most fun and challenging. You would not believe the hackers and extremist Baptist Phrakers who attempt attacks on these sites. The security has to be awesome, same with the bandwidth and e-commerce/subscription billing. These sites are on the wrong side of the tracks and the craziest things can happen. So, that’s fun, right? TanyaDanielle.com, FrancescaLe.com, Le’Wood.com (a combination of Francesca Le’ and her lovely husband, Mark Wood), DamselX.com, and marycarey.com (while she was running for Governor against Arnold and Arianna). I am particularly proud of the fact that the marycarey.com site never went down once even when she did the Leno show and the site got slammed.
The content provided to me for these sites was very often of the poorest quality. There was one photographer in particular who was very inspiring to me. All of his work looked like a Poloroid that was found in the dirt in an alley behind a liquor store. So I took some photography classes, bought a camera, set up a studio and sets in the back yard and began producing content.
Things were going along swimmingly, although now that I use that word, there was that time that DamselX was tied up in the spa and she floated off of the seat and I had to yell at her husband to get her because I wasn’t going to get my camera wet. Well, aside from a couple of little things like that, it was all great, very creative and quite colorful – I have an amazing variety of colored ropes to match any outfit. But then I got served papers and sued by someone’s ex-webmaster who accused me of stealing his client, unfair business practices. I did not steal his client, she came to me and I have the emails to prove it (another reason that there is no percentage in the phone for me). However, that does not matter because if someone sues you, you have to defend yourself and it is expensive.
So that put Manic Design back into the dark ages. It took a long time but I found homes for all of the girl’s sites or they moved on to other things. And that’s that for me and the last remaining export product California has to offer.
Now I focus on Miva e-commerce sites and WordPress blogs. Although sometimes I’ll sell homemade tamales or soap.
As you can clearly see from this history, “Poet’s Assistant” is the next logical step in this career path.
Timothy Green reading at the December PondWater Society event.
I don’t know how or why I’m getting away with this but I’ll tell you, it does feel like I’m getting away with something. Jamey Hecht, Jenny Noa, Brendan Constantine, Timothy Green and next month Douglas Kearney. Really? I need someone to punch me in the head so that I’ll wake up. There are more to come listed over at the PondWater Society page but I’m not really ready to move on yet. Just dwell on this with me for a little while, ok?
Last month Brendan read a poem to Dexter. Did I neglect to mention that? Our dignified little Dexter who has comforted Colin and kept my feet warm and democratically decided who needed him most at what time and then taken it on himself to act on those well-made decisions. Dexter is a worthy soul and most definitely has earned a poem from a potential Poet Laureate. I’m guessing that a lot of dogs have earned that. The fortuitous magic here is not lost on me.
I feel compelled to tell you right away that Todd was not here. All I could think was “who will win the raffle if Todd is not here?” But it’s ok, we made it ok. He was with us in spirit.
If you’ve ever spent any time with Timothy Green, then you know that he has a sense about him of non-judgmental acceptance. Each time I’ve been in a room with him, I’ve wanted to stand next to him. He is rational and objective and smart and that seems to radiate from him like a safe zone.
“American Fractal” is a beautifully chaotic collection of writings. Finding the chaos in order – my god, that appeals to me. There is no supposed order in the book, it feels random and yet, there does seem to be an order. I do believe that this particular poem is a good example…
Poem From Dark Matter
First light through the limbs of trees. And then
the trees. Each morning the hum of traffic
through the freeway wall. And then the traffic
we’re bottled in. Each thing first betrayed
by the shapes around it. As if shadows held
all our weight. Like the empty space that props
each fiery nest of stars, the smooth circumference
of every heavenly body toward which astronomers
might dream. I’m at the kitchen window, early light.
Reading science for tea leaves. Pluto, it seems,
is far colder than we thought. Even the constant
speed of light is decaying. And look where thoughts
can lead: Somewhere in a lonely future, a man
hears his heart stop beating long before the world
goes black. So slow the rate at which nothing
approaches. Or maybe like an ostrich we’ll outrun
our past. And then our present. And this, my gift
to you, whatever you’ll make of it: The soul, a ship
in a bottle lost at sea. Drops its anchor anyway.
Actually, as I page through the book again, they are all good examples, I just happen to randomly like this one the best today. Tim read from the book but he also read a couple of wonderful short stories. He is such an inherent poet that his prose could pass for poetry, the words and phrases are put together so beautifully that it is visually stunning.
There is no way that I am qualified to describe it. So here is what I think that you should do. Go to his blog and read his entries. Follow his dream diary on Twitter. He actually wakes up and condenses his dreams into 140 characters and posts them on Twitter. By far my favorite use of the thing and I am so impressed by the end result that I actively inquire about his sleep patterns to be sure that he will dream well.
About halfway through, we had a break and I think that worked out really well even though he was the only one reading and we didn’t really need a break. It’s so much more enjoyable if you’re not distracted by a particular cookie that is calling your name.
"Goldfish" by Terri Baines Jansen
Yes, there were many cookies. Brownies with chocolate chips and walnuts in them, chocolate chip cookies, those little spritz cookies that you put through the press so that there are a million Christmas trees that all look alike. Spiced candied hazelnuts, peanut brittle. It’s December! It doesn’t matter if I was sitting here by myself all month, I am physically incapable of not making this stuff in December, it’s some sort of primal abundance ritual. The usual rosemary garlic baguettes, brie, havarti, cheddar. Oh, and hummus and pita bread. Terri brought a different variety of brie and a gingerbread cheese spread that looks incredible. I didn’t put it out, stashed it, but if you’d like to try it, come over.
Ok. Let’s talk about Terri Baines Jansen for a minute, shall we? She has been such an amazing supporter of these events right from the start and her enthusiasm does not wane. We have so much fun together and usually end up laughing our heads off. See this stained glass piece? Terri did this. I am blown away by how beautiful the glass flows and she’s captured the currents and it just looks gorgeous when the sun hits the pond and reflects through this glass. This is not a great photo, the bubbles are iridescent and I think that the whole thing is far more luminescent than I’ve managed to convey.
"Celestial Santa" by Terri Baines Jansen
Last year we were over at her house and she had done this Santa Claus that I just fell in love with. I think that I may have pined over it too effectively, or maybe just effectively enough, because this year she came by and had made one for us. Remember that, if you see something in someone else’s house that you really love, go ahead and moan over it, maybe they’ll give it to you! I know this because the one pictured here is ours now.
"Water Lily" by Terri Baines Jansen
And to top it all off she brought this piece on Saturday so that we would have it in time for the reading.
Her work has a depth and subtlety that I just love. I think that it’s interesting the way the textures and colors in this seem to fight and yet get along. Just enough tension to make it interesting and still beautiful.
Well, as I mentioned before, Todd wasn’t here so he could not win the raffle. Although, he probably would have, that magnificent bastard. Instead Jeannette Baines (Eddie’s Mom and my Mom, which might be weird but I’ll fight him for her) won a signed copy of Timothy’s book and I cannot think of anyone in the room who would appreciate it more. Miss Rebecca Fazio won a copy of “Rattle” and got to choose the issue she wanted and Tim signed that too, on request. Our friend and neighbor, John Simola once again created and donated a flower arrangement and Frank Jansen won that. Just as there was a little bit of quiet in the room we all heard his wife, ValLimar Jansen, say “I think that a lady should have that”. And so we all know who wound up with the flowers!
Early in the evening Tim and I were talking about neighbors and neighborhoods in general. We’ve lived here for over 25 years and in our little cul de sac we are still the new kids. No one moves from here. I am still not sure what to think about that, feels a little Steven King ish to me. However, we all get along. Moments later a couple that I had never seen before came in and it turned out that they live about a block down the street. Lovely couple, Teresa and Spencer, and I was very happy to meet them. Maybe there is a chance for a sense of community here after all? Don’t worry, I’m not going to get carried away – this is LA Suburbia after all, we drive to what is shiny. However, it was very nice to meet our neighbors and maybe we can carpool.
It was raining and it is December and I want everyone who came to know how much I appreciate the effort. What I know is that it was worth it. Timothy Green is a scholar and a gentleman and a very, very good poet.
I still don’t know how I’m getting away with this but I am so happy to share it. We are all very fortunate people.
The paparazzi shots…
Yes, Rebecca, I hear what you're telling me, just let me get this shot.
Kat, from Book Club, she's awesome. Please note the returning of the Kate Durbin book - that rocks!
Jeannette "she's mine" Baines, Vickie, and John
Spencer, Teresa, Terri, John, Rebecca
Timothy Green - there is a lot going on here. On the right, my flimsy video camera atop a flimsy tripod. In the back corner, the tree made from white chicken feathers. Behind Tim you will see the flower arrangement that John made and a double tiered plate of cookies for just in case the poet wants a bite to eat during his reading.
Tim, Kat, Jeannette
Captive audience
ValLimar & Frank Jansen
ValLimar, Jules, John
“Poem From Dark Matter” reprinted with permission from the author (thanks Tim!)
I’ve been accused of posturing, as in assuming an exaggerated or unnatural pose or mental attitude on FaceBook. This might not seem like a big deal but it felt very hurtful to me because I thought that this person was my friend, a good witness.
The trick to this life is to recognize what’s working and what’s good and revel in it. Expose it, roll in it. There will always be the banal, the tiresome chores and aches and pains but why focus on that? What’s in it for anyone? We are all charmed if we look in the right direction. Everyone has a story, why make it mild?
In my defense, everything that I say is true. I don’t write fiction. I live life. I feel it and I describe it the way I feel it or see it. If it seems contrived or amped up, I’m sorry. I view this life through a kaleidoscope and it is just fucking beautiful.
This is my truth. It’s my life. I’ll be damned before I describe the corn on the big toe of my right foot.
Funny things can happen when you turn your living room into a Poetry Salon. Initially its a very simple transformation; remove the furniture, replace it with a roomful of folding chairs and little tables with cloths and candles. Add a table for literature and a music stand for a podium and there you have it.
What is easy to forget about are the ambient sounds that naturally occur in a residential neighborhood and in your own house. Once the reading begins you learn a lot about your surroundings that you hadn’t noticed before.
We’ve lived here for about 25 years and from the very first day there has been an ice cream truck that cruises the neighborhood. The guy that owns and operates that truck is named Prince. Prince long ago chose a Kenny G song to play loudly through those ice cream truck speakers and has not deviated from it. After around 18 years I think that we all got somewhat inured to it and stopped hearing it.
However, it really comes alive again quite profoundly when you hear it as a background to a Jamey Hecht reading.
I need to dust out my laptop – that fan is incredibly loud.
Sometimes the freezer sounds like it is crying. It is not, its just making ice cubes. Nothing to be alarmed about.
From time to time the Guinea Hen will get over-stimulated and fly up onto the roof, yelling the entire time. I have no idea what gets into that beady little head of hers, but it can be quite a cacophony at the most inopportune times.
Brendan reading while Dexter taps and sniffs
And then there is Dexter. I do not know how old Dexter is. I only ever remember him being here. He showed up one day and informed us that he was home and we took his word for it – he has a very honest face. Now, somewhere around 15 years later, he is deaf, mostly blind, has fat tumors and long, tippy tappy toenails. He’ll still play ball though and if he can figure out what the hell it is you want, he’s still game for anything. He follows his nose everywhere in an effort to figure it all out. He’s got enough seniority and he’s looked after all of us for so long that he’s earned the right to sniff around a poetry reading no matter how unnerving or distracting those toenails are.
Luckily Brendan has a magnificent sense of humor and gave some consideration to incorporating Dexter’s tip tapping as a meter. PS: Dexter was named after “Dexter’s Laboratory”, not the charming serial killer.
I think that it was outstanding of Jamey Hecht to come again this month and read for us. His one-man show “Back, and to the Left” is still playing and so I know that his schedule is tight at the moment (as if it ever isn’t). He still has three showings to go, tonight, tomorrow, and Sunday the 22nd. That last date was brilliantly chosen as it is the anniversary of the assassination of JFK. I suspect that it will be a particularly poignant evening and if I don’t get to go, I’ll be very disappointed in this life. Eddie and I went opening night and I cannot recommend it highly enough. This one hour show is so compelling and powerful that at its conclusion you’re left wondering if you’ve been in a time warp. I overheard someone say “that was the fastest hour I’ve ever experienced”. The production is directed by Charles Pasternak, who is not only an excellent director, but a brilliant actor and a very charming guy if you happen to meet him in the hallway. If you need ticket info you can find it at jameyhecht.com.
Jamey Hecht
Here’s the deal; Jamey’s got all this going on and he just gets in the car with Sava and Ellie and they drive here from Venice. And it’s a damned good thing they did too! Sava saved the day, once again, by doing the introductions so that I wouldn’t have to delve into my collection of paper bags for breathing. I don’t know, I guess that I really need to work on that method acting. But Sava has spoiled me by doing it so beautifully and eloquently. And Jamey read from his book and it was breathtaking and then he did a short story that I am sure will be printed in “The New Yorker” or some other worthy publication.
Now, if you’ve read my attempt at a draft of a manifesto then you’ll know that we had a break at this point. Oddly enough I was so happy with Jamey’s reading that I had forgotten my own vices and Sava nudged me with a reminder.
BREAK!!! Get more food, more wine, smoke a cigarette, exchange phone numbers, friend each other on FB, whatever. Don’t you love a good break? You can exhale and think about what Jamey just read and prepare yourself for Brendan’s reading. Well, trust me, you can, that’s what I did.
Sava introduced Brendan with the elegance and style that he deserved, calling him a “gentleman and a ninja”. Being the guerrilla fighter of poets, it seemed correct.
Will there be a ransom?
And now there’s Brendan. Honestly, as much of a chatty typist as I am, I’m not sure how to explain it. He began by telling of his concern that the PondWater Society was a rouse to get him here for some nefarious purpose and he seemed quite relieved to have found a room full of people who were anxious to hear him read. And read he did. His poetry and style is so dynamic, everyone was captivated. As he finished with “Unsung Cheese” (I bugged him all afternoon to read that one), all I could think was “can we do this again?”.
I have to say that these are the loudest poetry readings I’ve ever been to. Part of that may be because of the acoustics of the room, but it is also greatly due to the enthusiasm of the audience. Clapping, whistling, shouting out, laughing. It’s just great and both Jamey and Brendan brought out the exuberance of the crowd. We had a Q&A after the readings that was both fun and illuminating. Brendan’s book “Letters to Guns” is wonderful and he has 3 poems in a new anthology “Carving in Bone” (He gave me a copy, isn’t that sweet? I’ll let you look at it when you come over) also a chapbook called “Crimewave”. All are fantastic. His poetry has such a texture that you can almost feel it on your skin as well as the effect it has on a person’s heart and head. Lines stay in your mind long after the reading is over and to hear them read in his voice is just spectacular.
Cheddar Cheese Puffs
Sometimes I get all worked up and excited by the anticipation of things and then I bake. Loads of baguettes, dozens of cookies, probably about 8,000 of Aunt Dorothy’s Cheese Puffs. Tried them with Swiss, but Brendan declared the Cheddar the winner and I have to agree with him. Bruschetta and Olive Tapenade on toasted baguette slices. Honestly, I thought that there would be more people but about half of the usual crowd was sick with colds and flu. There was lots of wine and various lesser beverages. Todd brought a giant salami!
The usual mingling and clunking of plastic glasses, book signing, questions, answers, and laughter. Then we had the raffle. Darren won a signed copy of Brendan’s book! He was very excited about that because I think that he was shocked to learn that he liked poetry. He told me that after hearing the readings he was going to check out my copies of the books, but now he’s got one of his own. John Collier won a copy of “Rattle”. Tim Green donated a number of different issues so John got to choose the issue that he wanted. Another perfect match-up between winners and prizes, it’s kind of weird how that’s working out. Our neighbor, John Simola created and donated a flower arrangement for the raffle, some of the flowers were creatively made out of dollar bills. Todd won again! He didn’t want to enter the raffle since he had won last month, but I think that if Fortuna is smiling on you, you’d better smile back.
Kevin Lerma, from The Heirloom Artisans, loaned us a gorgeous Craftsman style table for all of the books and literature to be nicely displayed. He also let us borrow his Sam Maloof inspired sculpted rocking chair (which Sam Maloof actually sat in once, but I’ll let him tell you that story) and an incredible marquetry cabinet. These things are still here and I am very curious as to whether he’ll get them back. He wanted to be here to discuss the making of these pieces but he was one of the above mentioned with a cold. Hopefully he’ll be here in December.
Timothy Green at the LA Times Festival of Books
Next month, December 12th, Timothy Green will be the featured reader. Tim’s book “American Fractal” inadvertently led to these happenings. I was so excited to meet him and his book at the “LA Times Festival of Books” that I came right home and wrote all about it. He is also the editor of “Rattle” which I’m sure you’ve heard me mention about a million times. Such an amazing writer and also a really great person. You can find his blog here, to see what I mean. His wife, Megan, also has a book of poems out “The Beaded Curtain” which I am simply in love with.
Some celebrities that were spotted at PondWater Society on Saturday…
From the back, left: John S., Colin, Gloria. In Front: Charlie, Caren, John C.
Kay, Charlie & Caren
Ed, Jeannette and Kat
Jeannette has a way about her.
See what I mean? I'm just dying to know what witty thing she said to him!
This blog thing is very entertaining. I entertain myself by typing words that I find pleasing, putting them together in a way that sometimes makes me laugh out loud. Believe me, I write this crap for my own amusement, if someone else happens to have the same sense of humor and gets a laugh out of it, great, but I can’t worry about that.
I say that but in the meantime I check my stats. At first I wanted to see the numbers, how many people are looking at me, being the exhibitionist that I am, I would need to know that. But very quickly the numbers got boring and I looked at where they were coming from. And then I found the section in my stats that shows me what keywords or phrases people are typing in to Google that lead them to this mess. “Virginia Slims” is probably highest on the list. That pleases me because I’ve been smoking them since I was 15. Then there is the “women who smoke virginia slims” and that’s cool too because there are no photos of me to kill that fantasy. Here are some of my favorite search terms that led people here…
mortician humiliation stories
oprah smoking cigarettes
fat woman deordorant
jesus thorns plant
frustration results in hedonism
vagina slims cigarette
pictures of copulating grandmother
Believe me, these search terms baffle me too. I mean, some of them are appropriate, but I’m here to tell you that there are NO pictures of my Grandmother copulating.
Being a true California thing, Frederico has had some work done by "Dr." Paul Airhart at the Airship_DC/PH Airhart clinic for googly eyed things.
So then I went to the links that were on the net; who had posted a link to my stupid, dumbass, hiding-in-plain-sight blog? Well, for the most part it was Facebook and Twitter, based on my yelling at people to look at my blog that I didn’t want them to see but really, really wanted them to look at. Then… all of a sudden… my numbers went sky high (hey, it’s all relative) and there was a link from someone unbeknownst to me. “The Miniatures Page”. Weird, huh? So I clicked on it and it was a message board. Someone calling themselves Cacique Caribe has found Fredrico and posted a link to his pic as a thread on the message board. So there ensues a discussion about what is Frederico and where would you get something like that and where would you get googly eyes, etc. However, Cacique has described Frederico as “a bit silly, simplistic and crude”.
So, now, someone has not only found my blog but there is a critique of my activities and creations. Ok. So I read on and there is some give and take on what that thing is and finally, about a half an hour into the thread someone gets it. I keep wondering why didn’t someone just ask me? I would have told them. But apparently this group thinks that they are in some sort of a bubble and all of the internet is at their disposal. That’s pretty freakin’ quaint, don’t you think?
Here’s how I see it. A bunch of people come and look around and make assessments without even bothering to leave a “we were here” note on the door. They gather back at their place and discuss what they saw. But what they don’t seem to realize is that I saw the clues and followed them and now I’m standing there, at their door, hearing everything they say. “Impala” says she got a great idea for decorating the house while everyone else is out shopping. “Jake” says “The green thing looks like one of the “leafy” bits from a stem of plastic flowers” and includes a pic of a fake flower and a description of exactly where Frederico originated. “BlackHawk1″ wants to know if Cacique regularly follows Hedonist Review… ha ha ha. And Cacique defends himself by saying that if it comes up in his Google Image search, he’ll click on the link.
Please remember that I’m standing at the door with a drink in my hand, listening to all of this.
“blackscribe” finished it off tonight by saying “I’m really surprised that bottle of Ouzo in the picture isn’t empty. That would have explained all of the other photos.”
And I wandered back here.
Doesn’t it seem a little rude? I am very concerned about the internet. I’m not sure if people just don’t give a shit about manners anymore or if they are very unaware of how small a world it is. Please note, it is a VERY small world and it would behoove you not to say something about someone unless you feel so confident about it that you would be willing to say it to them in person. If you think I’m an asshole who has wasted a lot of time and energy on stupid shit, why not just post a comment saying so. It’s more than likely that I’ll agree with you. But don’t go back to your “little” (miniatures, remember?) tribe and talk shit about me and my blog as if I’m some blind, deaf and dumb corporation.
In the meantime, I would like to thank The Miniatures Page for giving my blog and Frederico so much attention. Really, you guys rock.
Ok. This was posted by my friend, @BecauseUAreHere on Twitter – this gorgeous link to a recipe by Becca R over at bacontoday.com. Who wouldn’t want to try it? After reading the comments from other people who had tried it, I doubled the cupcake recipe and tripled the frosting. Even then, I ran out of frosting before they were all beautiful. That’s ok, they’re pretty tasty even without the frosting. Maybe if you made a single batch of the cupcakes and doubled the frosting, it would come out perfect.
I also chose to use the mini muffin pan so that they would be darling little tiny cupcakes – the recipe sounded rich to me. Before I keep going, I’ll repost the original recipe here. If I’m not supposed to do that, someone should yell at me and I’ll take it off right away and simply write about how I bastardized it. I’d like to give due credit though.
Bacon Maple Cupcakes
Ingredients
* 4 1/2 tablespoons butter, room temperature
* 1/2 tablespoon bacon drippings (left in the fridge to become solid)
* 1 egg
* 5 tablespoons brown sugar
* 4 tablespoons maple syrup
* 1 1/4 cups self rising flour
* 1 teaspoon baking soda
* 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
* tiny tiny pinch kosher salt
* 1/4 cup milk
* 1/4 cup of minced bacon, cooked and drained
What you’ll do–
* 1) Cook some bacon in a fry pan (about 6 thick strips). Reserve the drippings and place in the fridge to solidify. Mince 1/4 a cup of the bacon. The chef should eat whatever is left to assure that the bacon is tasty.
* 2) Beat the crud out of the butter and solidified bacon fat ’till light and creamy. Add the brown sugar and maple syrup and beat well until combined.
* 3) Add the egg and beat until incorporated.
* 4) Sift the flour, salt, baking soda and powder together.
* 5) Add some of the flour and mix, then some of the milk, then continue to alternate the dry and wet ingredients, ending with the dry. Mix until just combined. Fold in the bacon. Taste and add more maple syrup, flour, or milk if needed for desired taste. Keep in mind the maple frosting is very sweet, and to add in very small increments for alterations as maple syrup in large amounts can break a cake batter.
* 6) Scoop into cupcake papers and bake at 350 F for 18-22 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Be sure to rotate the pan after the first 15 minutes for even baking.
Maple Syrup Frosting
Ingredients
* 4 tablespoons of butter.
* 2 tablespoons of maple syrup.
* 1 cup of powdered sugar.
* turbinado sugar (optional, but recommended).
* coarse grain sea salt (optional, but recommended).
What You’ll Do –
* Combine the syrup and butter until combined. Add the sugar, a bit at a time, and whip at high speeds until combined. Pipe or spread onto cupcakes. Sprinkle on sea salt and turbinado sugar for decoration and a lot of added flavor.
(add some crumbled BACON TOO!)
Ok. The first thing that I did was change the 6 strips of bacon to 2 pounds. Now, don’t think I’m crazy, I need that bacon because I make bacon waffles and freeze them individually for fast toaster food. Plus, I knew that I was going to eat a lot of bacon while I was making this.
Secondly, because I was using the mini muffin pan and I couldn’t find the little papers that go in it, I used the solidified bacon grease to oil the pan. That worked out great and I think that because of that they have a pleasing toasty texture on the outsides.
Here’s the photo-documentation of this extravaganza…
Bacon on a Silpat lined pan to go in the oven. 375 degrees for about 20 minutes will do.
And there it is, all toasty and straight and not splattering on me.
Chopped Bacon and some strips for the garnish, plus...
Drain the grease and put it in the fridge to harden.
It's a lovely batter.
Now, you can see that I've overfilled this pan. I think that because I didn't have self-rise flour and I tried to improvise, I got away with this. I think that the cakes are also a little more dense because of it.
And there they are. I can tell you that oiling the pan with the bacon grease gave them a flavorful texture.
And fini.
If you don’t want to go to all of the trouble to make these, be sure to try the frosting recipe. It is amazing, not too sweet, just perfect. I would triple it for any project because you’ll want that much of it!
Every Wednesday at a place called “The Basement” in Long Beach there is an entertainment that is worth the drive from wherever you are in this lower section of California. You know its always going to be a drive, right? Once you surrender to that, your options are phenomenal and “The Lightbulb Mouth Radio Hour” is a perfect example. It became shiny for me when I saw that Hannah Wehr was going to do a feature there and since I adore her and her work I went to the website to look into it. Here it is, doesn’t this look enchanting? … 
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