January 16, 2019
Not much to report today. I’m still porting my World Lit writings, and I still need to entirely rewrite Epic Poetry. Oh, and I’m moving all of the episodes of the Norman Mailer Society Podcast to Archive.org. It’s a bit time-consuming, but it’ll work out better in the long run. I’m not even sure if Justin is going to make any more.
I had an obvious thought about my song of the day from a couple of days ago: Placebo’s “Speak in Tongues.” Kitty got married! Why else do you go to an island and come home “without a name”? OK, that’s a cynical way to put it, but the narrator is jealous that Kitty has moved on. This interpretation is less sinister than my previous one, but most of what I said still seems valid.
Today’s photos are shots of my mom from the 60s.
Mom says: “Mom watching dad at the golf range. If you pan down you would see there is a baby in the oven. You, Jerry.”
Mom says: “This was a wedding and the man on my right did kill himself. What a loss that was. He couldn't give up the booze. The man on my left was the VP of Burgoyne Index, a company that did consumer research. Your dad worked there with these men. I don't remember the man's name on the end. These were some good times back in the 60's. I was a free woman and enjoying it for all it was worth.”
Mom in her 1965 (?) Mustang. I love the look of this photo, showing its age. She looks like she might be looking at a CD cover, but that would be a twenty-year anachronism. Notice you could buy food then, just behind the weeteepee house. Convenient.Mom says: “This was made in Ft. Thomas, Kentucky when your dad and I were dating. Probably in the late sixtys.”
Mom says: “On my lunch break, downtown Cincinnati. Lucy and i going for a bite to eat or shopping. Dig the big bag, not a dooney. Oh, that hair dooooooo wish I were that skinny now - looked good.”
Another shot of Mom, circa 1965. She seems upset, or at least pensive. It might have been my father taking the photo, but it might have been too early for that.
