Legendary

I think I’ve posted this before, but here again it makes sense because it basically explains the story of my marriage. Almost word for word.

Hero of the Underground

Tony O'Neill's got a new book out. A memoir he ghosted about a football player who turned dope addict. Actually, not ghosted, withed. I haven't read it yet, but given Digging the Vein was one of the best books I've read in the last ten years, I'm gonna get this one:



Update: Tony O'Neill's started a blog. I may actually get to blogging myself if I can get a moment.

Music Box

Last night I was woken up at 2 a.m. by a music box starting to play, out of nowhere. The sound of a music box is eerie, no matter how nice the song, especially being woken up by it. Last week when my daughter was here, I was beat tired. She very sweetly put a blanket on me, gave me a stuffed animal, and cranked the music box so it would play. Because she rules. There's no reason that the music box should start playing out of the blue a week later after it had wound down. My theory: she was dreaming about the music box, which set the music box going in my place. I ended up dreaming about her.

Tompkins

I love this, got it for my brother last Christmas. I’m not all morose at A.T.:

Blue

Writing going well. Not much more to say than that. While listening to:

Also got the check for my car from the insurance company today, which allows me to breathe. Had to shell out a lot of money to move into this place, a larger security deposit than most. But I love the place. Wood floors. Found nice furniture cheap, an entire bedroom set for a girl for all of $200. The move, aside from the car accident, which had its own disguised blessing, had a lot of hints that it was the right thing to do. I’d lost some of my faith that I could will things to be better. Getting diagnosed with a worsening illness was a real fucking insult: you’ve worked very hard, in your life, on your marriage, for your daughter, and here’s your reward. Depressed me horribly around wintertime. But it’s also given me some perspective on what matters, brought back some of my urgency. And the move went in such a way that I’ve felt somewhat taken care of, no matter what’s happening, which is something that I’d pretty devoutly lost.

Tabula Rasa

I love Imeem. Used to be Youtube was the best way to find music, now Imeem. Don’t see how they can post copyrighted material without getting arrested, but in the meantime…I often put this on when I’m starting over in some way. Because of the title and the way it hits the bloodstream.

Crash

A picture of my car, a fair estimation of my life. Actually, not that bad. Got a good night of writing in last night. Moved here with a major project to do – over the spring I wrote most of a novel longhand in a notebook. Didn’t want to plug the novel in earlier because I wanted to have the project when I moved in. And last night I finally started. Reworking the novel that I’ve been sitting on for five years. Wrote a screenplay last fall, partially based on that novel, but better mapped together. Using the plot of the screenplay mixed with the ideas, some of the writing, of the novel that never really came together. I’m thinking a screenplay is the best way to outline a novel. At least for me. My dirty secret. So some good things coming from parts of my life getting totally demolished.

Amazon

I’ve started selling half my things. The money’ll be nice, but getting rid of the cluttter is also important. Moving 1000 books here was just such a pain in the ass. Those things were bought pre-Internet, back when if you found something in a used bookstore, you had to buy it, because you never knew when you’d see it again. Now you can find anything in five seconds online. Also: CD burners. But don’t tell anyone.

Just a few things listed so far. Might list hundreds. So if you want a copy of the DSM-IV or Joy Division’s Closer, go to it.

The New Yorker

Crazy life I am leading now. Back and forth between the person I was when I was twenty-five to being a full-time father the following week. I would be disingenuous to say that I’m not grateful for the space, especially coming out of a difficult time, going on years. I’m a better father when I’m alone, when I can’t rely on anyone else, and she likes the undivided attention. I had her last week in the apartment for the first time, and it went well. She’s adapting as well as possible. Misses me but also likes new things. Her cousin and closest friend are kids of divorce, so it’s not entirely foreign to her. I’m not a kid of divorce, so it’s foreign to me, but a change was desperately necessary.

Here I am single again prepared for anything, divorced with a kid, a different kind of single, with different priorities because much of what single people desire is, in a way, behind me. I think about this a lot because this neighborhood is teaming with single people, young L.A. ambitious types, compared to the neighborhood I came from full of orthodox Jewish families, the women in wigs, their kids off limits, like living in someone else’s country. And now the country I’m living in is full of young hot L.A., very strange, though women don’t make me nervous like they might’ve ten years ago. It’s like - if I knew then what I know now, and I do. But I want a girlfriend not at all, I want to write a book.

I just never managed to be so prolific a writer after my daughter was born. I got some things done, but not when I was in my twenties, holed up like a hermit, with nothing else to think about. I never managed to be one of those people who wakes at five just to get writing in. I tend to write like crazy for a month and then spend more months recovering, but I need that month to get it all down, and it never came b/c my wife and I were always struggling, financially, personally. I’d be lying if I that didn’t weigh on me and the marriage, because it did, I’m human, and an ambitious human. That’s not why the marriage broke up – it was that and many other reasons. Back when I was blogging most profusely, we were in trouble in ways I didn’t mention, but I used the blog to escape it.

…much like I used the primary election in the past 6 months, as the marriage dissolved. Probably best that I didn’t blog then, but I wrote a hell of a lot of Kos comments. As my marriage was sinking, there’s Hillary Clinton, unrelenting and critical of the guy I was supporting, got under my skin like the rest of the country, like souls were at battle. Now I care very little about the election, seeing it as a way for people to feel self-righteous. The New Yorker cover today is a perfect example. The over-sensitivity is very boring, manufactured, not even frustrating. The rest of the election is probably going to unfold the same way. People desperate for an outrage. It just ain’t as fun as the Clintons, who are like fictional characters. The Internet is boring me, but that’s probably for the best.

So…I’m alone in the apartment for a week, two weeks out of every month. I can’t screw this up. I’ve been given some free time, no matter how it came about, and I can’t fail the separation and myself, now that I’ve got to figure out why I’m here on my own.

Car

I am freakishly tired. No time to think about much of anything except what needs to get done. In two weeks time, found a place, bought furniture, shopped for whatever else, worked when I could. Finally got myself a car yesterday. A big relief, bleeding money to rent a car was no fun. And the new car rules:



A 91 Volvo 240, black. Can’t be too many of them around. Previously had this (Not the actual car):



Homely, but worked. Except the brakes screeched like an old lady and the radio didn’t work. Wish I had taken a cellphone picture of the car after the accident. The right front was smashed in, couldn’t even roll to the tow truck. Never been in an accident – both airbags deployed, sprinkling some kind of dust in my face that I smelled for hours afterwards, everything seemed to turn white. Corner of my eye saw a woman at the streetcorner backing out of the way. Hit so hard that my car nearly spun around, rolling into a newspaper box. Corner of Bedford and Olympic, which I now try to avoid. First couple of days driving sucked, nervous, thought it might stay that way. But I’m back driving without much problem. And the Volvo drives like a tank, so it feels safe, and slow enough that I can never be impatient.

Blog

I guess now is as good a time as any to talk about the ongoing insanity that is my life:

Going through a divorce.
Only going to see my daughter half-time.
Found out in the recent months that my health has deteriorated. I feel all right, generally, but my future health is pretty uncertain. Bad kidneys, so you know. With no long-term health insurance.
Next, on the way back from a move to my new apartment, I got into a car accident, totaling my car.
The day before my birthday.
Yes, rough.

Things are very weird and nerve-wracking right now, but good too, moving on and forward in a way that was meant to be. The marriage couldn’t last. May or may not write about that. So fucking much to do right now, pretty overwhelming. But I think I want to get writing here again, as I’ve got a different type of time to kill. Nice new template to break it in.

I also owe it to my publishers to be more visible again. Good timing, really, that the reprint of my novel came out now, as this big change is here. So buy it. It’s a base price of $4. $4!!! And then add whatever you want to the price above that. The book looks fucking great, proud of it. And it’s FREE TO READ online. Read it and make whatever donation you think is right afterwards, that’s how they work.

I’ve got a lot to say, so I will. That song I posted last week puts it in perspective, didn’t want to write about it then. First verse is to myself about not seeing my daughter. Second verse is to my daughter, should she ever lose me permanently. Heavy, heavy times, but I’ve got much hope and will.

Here it is again:



I don’t need a song about her
She exists in more than name
But the song might be permanent
And I don’t want her to go away, away

When you hear this song remember
All that I wanted to say
Like your soul – it is infinite
And that I won’t ever go away
I will never go away, today

OK, that’s my life story. I’m off to see a shrink.