I hate this blog!
(Although I’ve been surprised at how many people seem to like it and are looking forward to how it comes together at the end.) Maybe that’s why I hate it – because I realized yesterday that it ends kind of pointlessly. Don’t look ahead! Trust me, in this case the trip really is better than the destination.
Most good stories have a couple of threads which carry their own weight but then gradually intertwine to a dénouement in which they all come together to a make a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. Or a kind of O’Henry twist. (Or is that a candy bar?)
Knowing where this one is going and Bagman and
Okay – so John Lockwood, before he went down the
Moving along, there was Kurt Vonnegut. Kurt Vonnegut had become my favorite writer of all time that summer. Mostly because his sense of the absurd was similar to mine and partly because he wrote very short chapters. I would have said he blogged but that word had not been invented then. In fact, we still wrote on typewriters. Absurd is good. Short is good. I still thought I wanted to be Ernest Hemingway but that is too much of a digression even for me to get into here. Vonnegut also had a dark, scathing, bitter humor at times which seemed stylish to me.
Continuing to try and move along, Kurt Vonnegut came to speak at the Annual Boston Book Fair. It wasn’t a long trip for him because he lived on
John and I went and sitting in the audience listening to him talk, John became convinced, for some unknown reason, that Vonnegut had read the same book about the hunter-gatherer tribe. “I’m going to go up and ask him,” John insisted. “Whaa-Ow.” The embryo of Bagman was cheering and the embryo of
Vonnegut’s speech ends. He answers a few questions about the future of American Literature and what did he think of the Vietnam War. He leaves the podium and heads down the aisle so he can go back to Cape Cod when John charges out of the crowd babbling like Bagman (although Bagman hadn’t been invented yet either) about hunter gatherers and shouting “Whaa-Ow!”
And here is the picture. I’m not sure whether Vonnegut is pulling away because of John’s loud “Whaa-Ow” or he was just afraid he was about to get his genitals fondled.
You see, this is why I hate this blog. Because I have just spent three days of my time and yours creaeting story threads for no other reason than to show off an old photograph of Kurt Vonnegut. And the point was what? To let everyone know that I once took a photograph of Kurt Vonnegut? What a cheap name-dropper!
So, in desperation to salvage some entertainment value, I’ll close with a few choice Vonnegut quotations:
1. Any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae.
2. I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don't let anybody tell you different.
3. True terror is to wake up one morning and discover that your high school class is running the country.
8. I say in speeches that a plausible mission of artists is to make people appreciate being alive at least a little bit. I am then asked if I know of any artists who pulled that off. I reply, 'The Beatles did'.
And kick me if I start another multi-part blog without knowing how the last blog will end.