Today is the 25th anniversary of the murder of John Lennon. My my, but it seems like only yesterday that he’d been dead 10 years. It’s an excuse to listen to my Beatles “1” CD and to renew my hatred for yoko for breaking up the band, I guess, but I’m awfully busy hating Bush nowadays and I don’t know exactly when I can work in Yoko. Maybe I can work it in between being worried about R.E.M. losing its religion and my angst over whether the rest of U2 is OK with starvation in Africa. I’m also devastated about the rumors that Brittany Spears’ marriage is breaking up. I may just bury my head in meaningless sex if I can ever get out of the damn house.

Talked awhile to SuzArt on the phone last night and she gave me an abbreviated report on Bob O and he must be OK. I feel badly that I haven’t checked on him myself, but all he needs is this cold I’m carrying.

I have my central heat going, both my bathroom heaters going and a fire in the fireplace and I’m still cold. I’ve been running the dishwasher and the clothes washer and making hot tea to try and get some humidity in the air, but I’m still cold. The thermostat says it’s 70 degrees in here, but even with sweats and a bathrobe, I am freakin’ freezing. My hands and feet and nose are cold. I thought about exercising to get my blood moving, but naaahhh. What I really want to do is to go sit on the equator and have beautiful native girls feed me fruit and bring me spleeves the size of baby’s arms. Too bad there’s no money in that, or i’d have a career. In the alternative, I’d be happy to snuggle up to some Oklahoma woman to get that body heat stuff going and that would help with my whole meaningless sex diversion idea, but that doesn’t seem to be in prospect any more than a trip to the equator. So, I’m just freakin’ cold and I’m still mad at those of you who bitched about the summer weather. Not only is the top up on the Miata, but I don’t feel that it’s smart for me to get out in such a small car when any jerk who hits me is going to have a bigger vehicle. Ban SUVs!!!!

I believe I now hold the North American record for blowing my nose the most often in the shortest span of time. I’ve used up three hankies and two rolls of toilet paper in the past two days. Does anyone know the world record?

Egad, but NPR can get tedious! They try so hard to be dispassionate about highly emotional issues that it just gets … well,…boring.

Enough blogging. I’m going to run up and down the hallway with scizzors and put small objects in my ears and nose. I’ll let you know how that works out for me.

No need for panic.

That loud noise you heard was merely my frozen ass shattering as it hit the ground.

It wasn’t much of an ass anyway, but I’m sure to miss it the next time I want to sit in a non-padded chair.

OK, I’m not proud of it, but I smoked again. I’m not going to just give up, though. I’ll try again starting this weekend or Monday. I just got so darn bored sitting at home with a cold and not being able to go out and talk to anyone and I spent so much time between my own ears. Oh, shit. Just one excuse after another for being a weak and spineless hedonist.

Once more into the breach … Oh, fuck Henry V … I don’t give a damn about Agincourt.

This cold in my head is making it difficult for my right brain to talk to my left brain and the voices are really starting to echo in here.

Looks like I’ll head into these holidays with no woman to share Christmas and no date for New Year’s Eve. No doubt the universe unfolds as it should, but I don’t have to like it.

I’ve discovered that I like cranberry juice heated and spiced with cinnamon. It’s really yummy. So, I’m sitting here with a fire in the fireplace and The Bird blowin’ sweet on the stereo and my hands wrapped around a large mug of heated juice and spice beverage and no one to talk to but the wind. I’d seduce myself if there was any challenge to it.

I’m missing the Wednesday night Paseo dinner and movie due to the inclement weather, by which, of course, I mean this freakin’ winter snowstorm with wind chills in the minus territory. Those of you as**oles who complained about the heat during our relatively mild summer can now just shut the F**K up.

Last night, I felt too bad to read, write or paint, so I watched TV. In fact, I watched more TV last night than I have in years. Boy Howdy! Have I really been missing out! Fascinating and mindblowing things on television nowadays. You-all should be so proud of the time you spend in front of the tube.

Now, I understand completely.

Tyra Banks in Top Model, a reality show about 13 beautiful young women who want to be America’s next Tyra Banks! Yea!!! Followed by Victoria’s Secret show with Tyra doing her last runway model appearance. Historical. Didn’t you just feel the electricity in the air? What a television moment! Up there with Lee Harvey Oswald being shot and the Twin Towers falling down. Iconic. A time and money saving show for me as well. Yes, just think of the time I’ve saved having to survey the local gentlemen’s clubs to find out what the style conscious stripper will be wearing next year. No woman I know would appear even in private in any of the styles being shown on this show because all those sparkly rhinestones and fetishist stuff would just be too damn uncomfortable to wear in real life. And, darlin’, if you do show up in my bedroom wearing undies made of lifesaver candies, you must expect me to laugh my ass off before you get the reaction you seem to be seeking. I wonder how many adolescents taped this show? And Newton Minow thought television was a “vast wasteland” in the middle of the last century. Shows what HE knew.

Is all of television now made of bad reality shows? After Victoria’s Secret, there was “Amazing Race” and “Elimidate” and — endless re-runs of “Frazier”.

“Elimidate” is my all time favorite so far. So f’ing CRUEL!!! I especially like when there’s one guy and three or four women who start calling each other whore and slut. That makes for particularly edifying television experience. Kept me eating popcorn late into the night, by Gosh.

I just learned that the phenomenon of a woman’s thong underwear flashing above the back of her low cut jeans is called “whale tail” or “whaling”. Cute and descriptive. The internet is ALMOST as good as TV.

Ah hab a cowd in ma node. I whanna schmoke. Ahhhhchoooo!!!! Ah chew!! Aaaaaaahhhhhh cheeeeww!!! Ahm coffin alla thyme two. Ah whanna cigaret NOW. AAAAooooonnnnnnkkkkk. Id ertz to blow ma node ‘cuz idz rubbed raw. Ah whanna schmolke. Id sez a snow storm id cummin. Kill me pleeze.

First and foremost… Yes, Ed, just standing at the door of GSpot at midnight and asking me where I got those Harry Potter glasses can get you mentioned on my blog.

Next… Yes, Privacy Shattered Sharon, sometimes the blog is about nothing more or less than me being a big old gossip; and, thank you for explaining to Raffine’s Thomas what “redoubtable” means.

As I write this, I’m finishing my first 24 hours on the nicotine patch and without the nasty tobacco I love and worship and crave and adore. I feel like having a funeral for my cigarets. boo hoo. I really am being a baby about this, it’s making me want to have a temper tantrum and to throw myself onto my bed weeping. Besides everything else, I’m catching cold.

I’ll buck up and quit whining for a moment to tell about Friday evening.

A goodly number of us, as always, gathered on the Paseo about 5 p.m. for drinks and banter. The smokers were very good about cutting me slack as I was six hours into abstinence at the time. Can’t tell you what we discussed since I was too focused on not smoking, but it seemed congenial. One of the things about this deal is that I’m very restless and can’t stay still or pay attention. I do recall that we got updates on Bob O’s scooter wreck and none of knew until just now that he’d been in the hospital for several days since Thanksgiving. It interrupted his visit from his internet St. Louis girlfriend. Man, what a bummer! Scooter wrecked, arm broken and lovelife thwarted. Triple whammy. Despite my self involvement, one thing no one could ignore was the bright pink furry Ug boots worn by Babs to set off a denim and fur outfit. YIKES!!! We just thought Bob O had the flashiest footwear in town, but we were dead wrong.

We left Galileo’s and went on the Paseo First Friday gallery walk with the especial destination of the SuzArt show across the street at ArtSpice. While the show itself seemed a little disorganized, the only thing that counts with me is the work and SuzArt has some encaustics with Asian (Japanese?) writing collaged on three small blocks that knocked me out. I also liked one oil painting piece in the window and a Lynn Barnett Sparks piece. Three really good pieces in one show is a success for me. The rest of the gallery walk seemed well attended and I think there’s a bit of a critical mass building up to make that First Friday notion a success.

Walking out, we saw our Lebanese friend in hat and bright red lipstick. “You look quite sophisticated,” she was told. “I was born sophisticated,” she replied with a tone that was applauded by part of the group and made others simply groan.

We made our way down to JRB Gallery on Walker, where I liked the deep rust and yellowed cream work “Relinquish” by James Smith and the keyboard and vocals of Heather Nelson providing the ambience. I think Joy Reed is doing a gangbusters job with that gallery.

(I WANT A DAMN CIGARET!!!! AAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!)

About 6 or 8 of us went to dinner at Adobe Grill, the best of the hispanic food in town as far as I’m concerned, and cussed and discussed the art and artists and each other with jocularity. The biggest part of the crowd decided on a Friday movie at PennSq, but I had other plans.

I met up with the Elastic Cafe folks in Bricktown. Madness. Utter madness. Hornets game meant that event parking was $10 instead of the usual $5 and the whole of Bricktown was covered up in the usual yahoos plus the sports yahoos. What was I thinking? Things got worse from there. We were supposed to meet at Toby Keith’s for dinner at 8:30 p.m., but that didn’t happen. There was some kind of mixup about getting a table for 30 (?!?), so the lovely Juliet changed plans and decided to have dinner at Spaghetti Warehouse and just drinks later at Toby Keith’s, but not everybody got her text messages and the 30 invitees from Elastic Cafe were strung out all over the place and no one got it right blahblahblogblah!!! Lots of interesting people anyway. I enjoyed Esther, the model and medical student — it doesn’t seem fair that one woman could be beautiful enough to model and be smart enough to be a doctor, but there you have it, all in one horse riding package. Also met an interesting woman who made sure I knew she was married (LOL) who tried to help me stop being so wound up over smoking by doing a little accupressure on my left palm. Later, I’d meet an aromatherapist and masseusse who covered me in some unguent oil (I had to smear some on my belly button fer goodness sake) that was supposed to calm me. Maybe it did, but it was hard to tell since I was surrounded by models and being rubbed, kissed and taken out to the floor dancing. The Wise Guys were the band at Toby Keith’s and I know some of the guys, even practiced law with one of them. The band was fronted by Randy, the Norman Nobody/Edmond Somebody, and he’s one of Elastic Cafe’s models and the reason we were there. Did I mention that I thought the bar itself was crap? Just me, I suppose, but it’s a big barn of a place and I kind of just don’t get it.

I struggled to get out of Bricktown about midnight and went to the Paseo, where I saw Ed at the door of the G Spot. El Matador was playing. Interesting contrast with The Wise Guys. Wise Guys were doing a lot of Beatles covers and El Matador was doing covers of Sting and The Police. Much more intimate crowd than Bricktown and I like being able to walk in and be known and have “my” drink waiting for me without asking. Went next door to Isis and saw my hero, MH, in his black leather jacket being cool; Christian the bartender and Latin teacher who, as usual, was with a gorgeous woman (she was so good looking that I couldn’t hear Christian tell me her name; I was enchanted); and Jasmine (no, not THAT Jasmine, another Jasmine) who was having her 22d birthday. Craig was lighting chunks of flavored tobacco for the waterpipes and the mood and flow was aces. However, I was feeling worse and worse with this cold and, again, restless without cigarets around the tobacco users, and went home alone around 1 a.m.

My patch is itching my left arm and I WANT A CIGARET!!!!!!!!! I’m quitting here for now.

G’nite and Sweet Dreams

I think I’m catching cold. It’s God’s punishment for trying to stop smoking. Or his encouragement, I’m not exactly sure.

Anyway, I took yesterday off because I just didn’t feel like it.

Mostly, I lolled around and napped and listened to music and such.

About 5 p.m., got a call to go to coffee at Will’s on Western and how could I resist that? It wasn’t like I had lots of appointments, things to do, people to sue and lives to ruin. I was doing nothing. So, I went.

One thing led to another and it ended being a perfectly lovely evening.

We had dinner at Sushi Neko. After all, it was right next door. Miso soup followed by Negi Maki (I insisted my companion have some warm saki to go with that) and a finish of a couple of sushi favorites, smoked trout and crab. YUM!!!

From there to the champagne special at Roccoco on Thursday night. I’m of the opinion that Eric, behind the bar there, is the best in town. Seems like a really great guy and very attentive. A couple of flutes later, I found myself kissing in public. Always a good move, I think. Makes everyone around you so at ease. Saw the redoubtable Thomas of Raffine there, again without his ballcap. WTF?!? He was speaking to two, count ‘em 2, gorgeous blonde women (Nicole and Paula maybe? He introduced me, but I was otherwise occupied in liplocks at the time). Meanwhile, there’s a jazz combo there on Thursdays and it was absolutely perfect. The music provided ambience without being intrusive, but if you listened, it was pretty darn good. THAT’S what I’m talking about, as they say.

Missed the usual crush of boy meets girl at Flip’s on Thursday night and didn’t even come close to the faux sophistication of bin 73, but it somehow seemed perfectly all right.

Coffee for a nightcap and early to bed and early to rise. All in all a lovely evening for me.

On the downside, I woke up this morning coughing with a tight chest and feeling like I’d been the one drinking. Must have rubbed off. Can you get drunk by kissing someone who is drinking? Sweet mystery of life… .

Read this a.m. that Wes Lane’s wife is in trouble with her probation for prescription drugs. Don’t usually feel sorry for right wing Repugs, but I feel sorry for Wes (who I don’t know). It’s a bad deal. Hurt politically. Put in a bad place on the job. Worst of all, the problems at home dealing with addiction of a loved one.

Wonder if someone somewhere sometime will get the idea that the War on Drugs is a failed public policy. If the guy who uses crack and the girl who smokes pot goes to jail, no questions asked, why does a doctor who is the spouse of our DA get a walk when she prescibes herself painkillers? Why is crack cocaine for poor people so much worse than powdered cocaine for rich folks? Aren’t we bringing the law and the justice system into disrepute with these glaring inequities? Since it costs $15,000 to provide therapy to a drug user and $30,000 a year to lock them up, why are we building so many prisons and not more rehab centers? The War on Drugs started in the Nixon administration and politicians ever since have been more and more populist in their appeals to get tough on drugs. What have we accomplished? More drugs on the street, worse drugs on the street and more vicious thugs selling drugs on the street. Why is America the drug capital of the world? Why is our problem so much bigger than the problem in Europe or industrialized Asia? Could the difference be that we have the War on Drugs and they don’t? Drugs kill more people in America than all the terrorists in the whole world. The War on Drugs has cost you and me — even if you didn’t inhale back in the 60s — significant Fourth and Fifth Amendment freedoms. Of course, the War on Terror has dwarfed that loss of our freedoms via the Patriot Act and seems to be just as effective in making America seem stupid, but that’s another story altogether.

Anyway, I feel for Wes Lane personally. He’s got a codependency problem and a political problem and that’s tough. Politically, he’s hoist on his own petard and I think he has no choice but to send his doctor wife up the river. Maybe he can watch Bogart as Sam Spade telling Mary Astor she’s the one that has to go to jail, to take the fall for killing his partner. Live by the sword, Wes, and you die by the sword. That’s the rule. Oh, how that karmic wheel does turn.

Bob O was hurt in a scooter wreck and has a multiple compound break of his right arm. Just talked to him Thursday p.m. and he was headed home after 3 hours in the doctor’s office. He expects to wear a cast with poles and wires sticking out of it for the next three months.

He says a woman in a car looked right at him and drove right into him. Did you once date this woman, Bob?

Later, I suppose we can pester him about sharing his good pharmaceutical pain killers, but right now he says he’s in pain and will be using everything he can get his hands on.

Give him a call and check on him, folks.

One scooter down and two to go?

Ah, well. It’s hard to rehab at “our age” and I feel for the guy.

in other local news

Saw Larry P at the G Spot yesterday wearing the coolest mustard yellow/gold shirt. Looked really sharp and soft and yummy. He says he bought it in bulk in a variety of colors and I think that’s a hoot. There was some banter about him shopping at Soul Boutique; don’t know about that, but I really liked the shirt.

DeShan says she’s not going to be part of next year’s Girlie Show. Don’t know the story behind that, but I bet it’s a corker with 5 women artists involved. This year’s show was a huge deal with hundreds of people there at the Farmers’ Market. Oz shot some under the radar footage for his film and I saw just about everybody worth seeing.

There will be a show on the Paseo tomorrow, according to SuzArt. The artist list includes several of my favorite hometown folks. Here’s the email she sent:

Join us this Friday, December 2 from 6-9 p.m. for the First Friday on Paseo gallery walk at the former ArtSpice location 3022 Paseo, Oklahoma City, (The green building)

Some of your favorite artists showing: Suzanne Owens, Lynn Barnett Sparks, Jenny Woodruff, Garvin Isaacs, Michael Wilson, Sam Echols, Cindy Hoke, Nicole Moan, Suzanne Randall, Milissa Ward, John Brandenburg, and many more.

Regular Gallery hours are W-S noon-4 p.m.

A percentrage of proceed from sales at 3022 Paseo will benefit the Paseo Artists Association. This space is available for monthly rental to artists. Call 525-2688 for info.

All the Paseo galleries will also be open Friday, Dec 16 from 6-9 p.m. to ease your holiday shopping panic.

The Paseo Historic Arts District is located between Walker & Shartel just south of NW 30th.
Please pass this email along. Thanks.

While I’m flogging upcoming events, there’s one tomorrow at Rampage Studio where Nicole Moan hangs out with her family and does interesting things at 24th and Shartel. Free admission, booksigning and three bands, Tall Cotton, Bloody old mule and one other the name I disremember at the moment.

And, since I’m on this roll, Kelly O invites all and sundry artists to contribute to the 3d annual red cup trinkets and baubles show, her brainchild and a wonderful holiday event. Here’s her email:

The RED CUP
Invites you to
the 3rd annual
TRINKETS N BAUBLES
Holiday Celebration

enjoy
Original holiday ornaments
Incredible RED CUP delicacies
Holiday spirits
And cheer

Saturday December 10, 2005
7-11
3122 North Classen
405 525 3430

A large contingent of us went to VZDs for dinner last night and then a smaller group watched The Talented Mr. Ripley at my house. Every week, this is my highlight: seeing and catching up with old friends and breaking bread together. One of the best parts is that Debbie always puts away the dishes at the end of the evening. We have coffee and chocolate before the movie and share “stuff”. It’s great and it’s something that I look forward to. This week, we welcomed the addition of Linda Finley and it was good to be able to hug her.

Sandy Married Lady turned me onto the Asleep at the Wheel Greatest Hits album and I’ve been playing the grooves off the CD. I’ll have to get some new music soon; I’ve already memorized the words to the song about the letter that Johnny Walker read.

RebL has confused me by sending me not one, not two, but three different mailing addresses for my son-in-law in Iraq. I’ll have to get it figured out soon since the deadline for posting something to him that will arrive by Christmas is either Saturday or Monday, depending on how you send it.

John X says he’ll soon begin blogging on Possibility X dot com and that he’s trying to find a way to replicate Haiku in a short film project. Very interesting idea, I think, and if anyone can combine those two art forms, it’s the X man. His page is linked at right.

It’s further down the line, but I also have an update on Skip Ziusudra’s upcoming event and here’s his email:

hello my friends

goosebump time

remember, you can do nothing wrong. we have 33
creative people
participating in our dec 10/11 event. turn 33 creative
people loose
in a fun interactive evening, and what could go wrong?
as long as
you are having fun, we are on course.

i will be offline for a while as i change servers. my
phone number
is 557-1369. archaic as it is, you can call me if you
have a question.

add to the participants
sky camfield as homeland enforcer ( has a great
inspector clousseau take )
dan sparks as lighting assistant/actor
jennifer grover as a famegod(dess)
scott nixon as a poetleper
more coming

i am in midst of resolving these challenges. any ideas
you can offer
is appreciated

i need 3 sheets of clear plexiglass or plastic to form
jasmine’s cell

i need two masks – one robotic, one babydollish – call
me

cushions, chairs, any easy to move seating

any people who want to play a character imbedded in
the tourists (audience)

when i am back online, i will be emailing an outline
of the eve, and
tribal dynamics to the participants

starting sunday, we will be in the warehouse space
every evening
6:30 on, to decorate, mount lights, rehearse, etc.
come when you
can. friday night the 9th we’ll have a walk-through
party for
whoever can make it.

love
skip

We DO love you, Skip, but watch the punctuation, please. LOL

G’nite and Sweet Dreams

(Privacy Shattered Sharon — name withheld to protect the innocent by jrl) has invited you to join in supporting Stop Alito | People For the American Way.

As you may already know, President Bush has nominated Judge Samuel Alito to a lifetime position on the U.S. Supreme Court. Judge Alito has a long, documented record of right-wing activism on the bench, and if confirmed, he could threaten our basic rights and freedoms — privacy, civil rights, reproductive freedom, environmental protections, workers’ rights, women’s rights, consumer protections, and individual liberties. This nomination could affect all of our lives for decades.

People For the American Way (PFAW) is taking a stand against this nomination and is collecting names for a petition urging the Senate to oppose Judge Alito. PFAW can help make sure that your senators see your signature and hear your call to oppose this nomination.

If you agree with me that Alito is bad news for America, please sign the petition and join this campaign.

You can sign the petition and get your own personal petition page by clicking here:
Save the Court

Thanks,
(Privacy Shattered Sharon )

I’m writing because that’s what I do. It’s almost who I am.

I’ve been thinking about that scene in Adaptation where Nicholas Cage plays neurotic twin brothers and, towards the last of the movie, the two take a moment during a crisis to share about their past. One of the brothers says that the measure of life is how well you have loved, not how well you’ve done in getting someone to return that love. Insightful and heartbreaking, I thought.

About the only thing I’ve done today is go by the funeral home this afternoon to see Mike. Linda broke my heart with her red-rimmed eyes. It gave me joy to see Mike in his denim shirt and safari vest and for him to have his pipe and leather hat in his grasp. Just had a heart beat skip.

I couldn’t stay but a minute or two. I just couldn’t.

Other than that, I’ve just holed up and tried to keep the wind from blowing me away. Went to the grocery for milk and honey, literally.

I’m so paranoid, I’ve got the front of my house closed up and dark to make people think I’m not here.

Don’t know who I think will drop by or what they could do to me if they did, but I just didn’t want to see anyone today. I didn’t feel companionable. I’ve got to admit, I didn’t even take phone calls.

This isn’t the first time in my life that I’ve isolated, but I hope this is one of the good times and not one of the bad times.

I brought work home over the long weekend and didn’t make an honest pass at it.

This has been a weekend of partings for me. One of my all time favorite public figures, Judge Eugene Matthews, also died. I covered him as City Hall reporter in the 70s when he was a city councilman. He was a civil rights activist in this town when that wasn’t a very safe thing for a white guy to publicly do. Blessed are the peacemakers, Gene. You seemed to be one to me. We went to the same church and I even tried cases before him. Heck uv a guy. Hope someone has the same opinion of me at my death that I have of Gene today.

The OKC art community contributed greatly to the art faculty of the afterlife this weekend. A great many people who pick up a palate and a paintbrush faced funerals in this town. I guess the holidays are tough on everyone, no matter what.

Then, life goes on. Rec’d. an email from Tucson letting me in on the Christmas scoop — what grandkid wanted just what exact size of this or that. Lets you get some perspective. I always try to get my grandchildren something that makes a very obnoxious noise or has a great many small, sharp parts. It’s my not-so-secret way of getting back at my daughter for being a child. I must say that she does so much better a job as a parent than I did, despite the fact my parenting is one of the things in my life of which I’m most proud. As far as I can tell, my daughter’s an actual grown up. No question about the fact that she’s more grown up than I am, but that’s damning with faint praise.

It’s been all silent on the son front. Haven’t heard from the boy and if you live anywhere near Yukon, I hope you go to the discount movie house there and tell the kid he should be ashamed the way he’s treating his poor, old, pitiful father.

According to the IRS letter I got this weekend, maybe they would take Jack instead of an arm and a leg. I’ll have to get with my CPA about whether “first born son” is an option or will it have to be next born, this one already being unfit for grinding into government sausage.

I hear the Red Cup staff 80s prom and birthday party for Daniel was a big success. Heard from birds in the know that it was still going on at 5:30 a.m. and that some of the hosts were back at work just a few hours later. Someone slap that drunk gay guy, willya? Who’s the old guy in the cummerbun? And that wench, Becky, in the blue dress with the black velvet corset strapless top? Bring her to me. Muhwahahahahahahahahahaha.

Saw my hero at Paseo and had a little conversation. He’s perplexed about why he would be my hero. Damn. The guy’s got taste and style. He’s got a cool job and talent. He’s a sculptor on the side. He’s got a prestige address. He’s everywhere cool, so he’s clued into the city. Hell, my only question is why he isn’t everyone’s hero. He even does something I’ve not been able to accomplish and that’s be friends without conflicts with Privacy Shattered Sharon. Damn, Mike. You’re my hero. The fact that you don’t KNOW how cool you are makes you all that more cool.

Also met a guy from New Orleans named Travis, thanks to Skip Z-man. Travis is helping to restore a buttload (technical term of his trade) of old drums down on the corner of Paseo. He was out Saturday night on the corner with some passersby just percussing. The street needs musicians. Hope he gets hooked up with Randy Clemens’ dobro. Red Stripes all around and keep going!

The wind makes me restless. Puts me out of sorts and on edge. The weather’s changing and I don’t like that much. The top will have to go up on the Miata again and this time, it’s likely to stay up for awhile, I suspect. I hate that. One thing and another, and I won’t be going around the lake at night as I often did in the warm summer nights. No one to go with any more, either.

Going to see Mike today makes me want to do some sumii. Maybe this weather will accomplish the goal of keeping me home and writing and painting. There’s a silver lining for you, Pollyanna.

G’nite and sweet dreams,

John

Mike is at Smith & Kernke on 23rd St. and there will be visitation from 2-5 p.m. tomorrow, Sunday, 27Nov’05 with a memorial service later. In lieu of flowers, please make a donation to American Cancer Society or Oklahoma County Hospice.