Could be I listen to Warren Zevon more than most, and that song is one of those I tend somehow put in each playlist- whatever my intentions when I put one together, but it reminds me that life is so rich. Like recalling a delicious meal with friends I love, or realizing too young that we all live on borrowed time, but I felt as I read this, the places, the relationships (they all are however brief) and its dissolved a wall I didn’t know I built around me since this morning (after dreaming of a funeral that already happened but not in the dream) so thank you for leaving me wide awake right now.
“Sometimes when you’re doing simple things around the house,
Maybe you’ll think of me and smile
I’m tied to you like the buttons on your blouse
Keep me in your heart for a while.”
Rilke, in his Letters to a Young Poet writes “Ah, poems amount to so little when you write them too early in your life. You ought to wait and gather sense and sweetness for a whole lifetime, and a long one if possible, and then, at the very end, you might perhaps be able to write ten good lines.” This was certainly one of those.
“There is a path ahead and i long to listen longer, accept the beating of other hearts and dreams, restrain compulsion to listen only for the sound of my own voice and instead relinquish the spotlit self which prevents full immersion in hope, joy, the friends disguised as strangers on the road ahead” this the heart of everything, you understand.
I run into everything and continuously apologize 🙃
Like the happy friends picture, good times! This felt so good to read: "The heart if it lives long enough and true enough to its aim finds its desire fulfilled sometimes in the imagining, always in the remembering of the good things." Thanks for sharing, and trying, it is inspiring.
Ah, the good old days: I remember riding on the back of a green dirt bike to a spot overlooking a secluded beach on Lake Champlain, spying on a couple of ladies sunbathing in the nude. Making out with at least four of your exes or my priors. With a five to one ratio of women to men, Burlington was an ideal place for a lazy lover like me.
Drinking and playing pitch at the OP, eating monstrous pastrami sandwiches and listening to music at Nectar’s, all the awesome bands that came through Hunt’s
Bernie popping his head out the upstairs apartment window while Peter Mac and I were shoveling his car out of a snow bank. “Hey, I’m running for Mayor, you should come to a meeting tonight.”
Didn’t make that meeting, nor did I cast one of the ten votes he won by, but that didn’t stop me from going to the victory party. I did volunteer for his reelection, administering the Freeman’s Oath to register voters,. It was a lot more fun back then, and the stakes weren’t so high. I mean Republicans like Jim Jeffords and Dick Snelling were cooler than Madeline Kunin and that pompous ass Patrick Leahy, may he retire in power. I was friends with his flak man, who recruited me to play for his softball team in a game against the Free Press. We got clobbered, but I played great and apparently the Senator was so impressed he mentioned me in a staff meeting the following Monday.
These days I just yell at everyone online, including the young Bernie fans living on my front lawn, who play loud music all night, smoke pot all day, and refuse to vote for Biden this fall. Not that there’s anything really wrong with that.
Not a big fan of Substack after passive-aggressive, Trump/Putin loving cocksuckers like Glenn Greenwald and Matt Taibbi took up residency here. Also, although I mainly write short posts and jokes, I still favor proper punctuation, except semi-colons which are weird, and exclamation points, because fuck them. There’s nothing to get excited about and periods are a perfect ending.
I don’t want to kiss and tell. They’d probably be chagrined to learn we’re still withdrawing fantasies about them from our memory banks.
I forwarded this to a couple people still living in that area with whom I’m Facebook friends with. Liz Rothwell just told me about that guy writing a book about Bernie. What’s his name?
I don’t have much to add to Bernie’s legacy. I was closer to Jane Driscoll Sanders, who was his campaign manager at the time. As a small donor to his congressional and senate campaigns, I got an email from them in 2015 about a possible run for President. I told them I wouldn’t support a 3rd party and advised him to run what I called a Tom Sawyer campaign in the Democratic Primary, that he should take the whipping for all the ink Hillary (and maybe Biden) were going to spill on their desks. Later, when “Bernie Bros” became a term of alienation, I wrote Jane a lengthy email about how to effectively counter the false impression.
A few days before the election, I literally had a dream Hillary and Bernie were getting married on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial wearing Civil War Era attire, standing in sunshine they were looking out at dark clouds that were gathering over a battlefield behind me.
To this day, especially THIS day, it galls me that Bernie got blamed for Debbie Wasserman-Schultz’s transgressions.
ha quite a prescient dream dude!!! as for Liz she would never be chagrined (or surprised) at my affections for her....i won't violate his privacy as he has a book deal but this morning i wrote him anm email about you saying i'd try to get your contact info email me: appletonking@yahoo.com
you read my first post i ever wrote on here? i once thought to go political on substack but more and more i see that as a black hole admire your outrage tho its totally warranted i suspect we will power thru this upcoming shitstorm as a deeply divided people... hell if i can have hope for the red sox this year anythings possible in this country right? heh
Dan Chlasson’s book deal is secure. Scott McKay is the go-to source on Bernie. They no doubt know each other well. I hope there’s something about the late, great Peter Freyne in there.
I don’t recall reading you on Substack before last night, TBH, I don’t recall a lot these days. My memory bank is being drained on a daily basis. Interestingly enough, I was worried about Facebook manipulating me with chatbots when I friended Mary Madden. I asked her to verify her authenticity by telling me her sister Nora’s and your name. She called you App King. Hmmm, maybe she is a bot.
Kristina Stykos from the Vanguard Press is on Substack. She writes long stream of consciousness posts like yours, albeit, with punctuation and meticulous grammar.
When I moved to the Bay Area in 1992, I was struck by how pessimistic Giants fans were, they reminded me of the Red Sox fans I left behind. In 1986, I remember trying to buy the regulars at the OP a round of drinks when the Sox were one out from winning their first World Series since before The Great War in Europe. Dick Jenks, who didn’t drink anyway, rejected my offer, saying, “It’s not over yet, they can still find a way to lose.”
This generation of Boston fans is so spoiled, as are Giants/Warriors/49ers fans. I post more about sports than politics, but I can’t help but note the synergy between the people who constantly complain about Biden’s domestic policies and detractors of the Giants’ GM, a Canadian Muslim who put together a team that recently won a franchise record 107 games. One of his big/small trades was for Carl Yastrzemski’s grandson, who fans have turned on like a hanging curveball over the middle of the plate.
never knew kristina her stuff looks great i just re stacked on here...texted with Mackay as he was at fenway today....mary is no bot she calls me by that name👍
your recollections of that era i starve for actually a latecomer to the o.p. a young guy who got into screenwriting horror films
encouraged me to write last winter and i found substack you rememeber goldfinger?
the giants fans are very literate and loyal from what ie seen when i had my 5 mins. on "social media"🤣
“And she did say ‘oops.’” That just delighted me. I love these musings of women gone by. I wonder if they can find them—how complimented they would feel to be part of your mythology.
notsomuch i suspect if the mythology took an even closer look at the parcheesi antics involved but im so glad you found something of descriptive authenticity here fleshing out people's characteristics is challenging but necessary work and its like : shit do i REALLY want to work !$$@!??#! erk
Could be I listen to Warren Zevon more than most, and that song is one of those I tend somehow put in each playlist- whatever my intentions when I put one together, but it reminds me that life is so rich. Like recalling a delicious meal with friends I love, or realizing too young that we all live on borrowed time, but I felt as I read this, the places, the relationships (they all are however brief) and its dissolved a wall I didn’t know I built around me since this morning (after dreaming of a funeral that already happened but not in the dream) so thank you for leaving me wide awake right now.
comments like these and yours in particular are what makes this place very cool 🤗
It’s a good place and yes it can be pretty amazing
“Sometimes when you’re doing simple things around the house,
Maybe you’ll think of me and smile
I’m tied to you like the buttons on your blouse
Keep me in your heart for a while.”
Rilke, in his Letters to a Young Poet writes “Ah, poems amount to so little when you write them too early in your life. You ought to wait and gather sense and sweetness for a whole lifetime, and a long one if possible, and then, at the very end, you might perhaps be able to write ten good lines.” This was certainly one of those.
Yes. I’ve been. And yes.
“There is a path ahead and i long to listen longer, accept the beating of other hearts and dreams, restrain compulsion to listen only for the sound of my own voice and instead relinquish the spotlit self which prevents full immersion in hope, joy, the friends disguised as strangers on the road ahead” this the heart of everything, you understand.
I run into everything and continuously apologize 🙃
have you ever listened to the Grace Potter song "apologies" you'd like it 😊😇 ❣️
Cormac McCarthy-like prose. Early exploits live long in memory.
ever long for those they are recounted to 🤣🤣
Oh, what a lovely reading after a day spent traveling, A. Your writing never fails to leave me thoughtful and intrigued! P.S. Good pics. xx.
💥💫💚
ya brazil is a big place huh?! minas gerais?
Like the happy friends picture, good times! This felt so good to read: "The heart if it lives long enough and true enough to its aim finds its desire fulfilled sometimes in the imagining, always in the remembering of the good things." Thanks for sharing, and trying, it is inspiring.
hmmm i forgot i wrote that lol did i ??
regardless good eye! thanks as always mary ann 😊🫠
Ah, the good old days: I remember riding on the back of a green dirt bike to a spot overlooking a secluded beach on Lake Champlain, spying on a couple of ladies sunbathing in the nude. Making out with at least four of your exes or my priors. With a five to one ratio of women to men, Burlington was an ideal place for a lazy lover like me.
Drinking and playing pitch at the OP, eating monstrous pastrami sandwiches and listening to music at Nectar’s, all the awesome bands that came through Hunt’s
Bernie popping his head out the upstairs apartment window while Peter Mac and I were shoveling his car out of a snow bank. “Hey, I’m running for Mayor, you should come to a meeting tonight.”
Didn’t make that meeting, nor did I cast one of the ten votes he won by, but that didn’t stop me from going to the victory party. I did volunteer for his reelection, administering the Freeman’s Oath to register voters,. It was a lot more fun back then, and the stakes weren’t so high. I mean Republicans like Jim Jeffords and Dick Snelling were cooler than Madeline Kunin and that pompous ass Patrick Leahy, may he retire in power. I was friends with his flak man, who recruited me to play for his softball team in a game against the Free Press. We got clobbered, but I played great and apparently the Senator was so impressed he mentioned me in a staff meeting the following Monday.
These days I just yell at everyone online, including the young Bernie fans living on my front lawn, who play loud music all night, smoke pot all day, and refuse to vote for Biden this fall. Not that there’s anything really wrong with that.
Not a big fan of Substack after passive-aggressive, Trump/Putin loving cocksuckers like Glenn Greenwald and Matt Taibbi took up residency here. Also, although I mainly write short posts and jokes, I still favor proper punctuation, except semi-colons which are weird, and exclamation points, because fuck them. There’s nothing to get excited about and periods are a perfect ending.
John Braaten, Bay Area
haha great onre john
should have known you were the real writer
im curious now but...which ones of my exes??#@!!?? 🥵👹
also email me as i got interviewed by a guy younger than us a fine poet and writer with book deal to write about bernie's start
he could use your stories
I don’t want to kiss and tell. They’d probably be chagrined to learn we’re still withdrawing fantasies about them from our memory banks.
I forwarded this to a couple people still living in that area with whom I’m Facebook friends with. Liz Rothwell just told me about that guy writing a book about Bernie. What’s his name?
I don’t have much to add to Bernie’s legacy. I was closer to Jane Driscoll Sanders, who was his campaign manager at the time. As a small donor to his congressional and senate campaigns, I got an email from them in 2015 about a possible run for President. I told them I wouldn’t support a 3rd party and advised him to run what I called a Tom Sawyer campaign in the Democratic Primary, that he should take the whipping for all the ink Hillary (and maybe Biden) were going to spill on their desks. Later, when “Bernie Bros” became a term of alienation, I wrote Jane a lengthy email about how to effectively counter the false impression.
A few days before the election, I literally had a dream Hillary and Bernie were getting married on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial wearing Civil War Era attire, standing in sunshine they were looking out at dark clouds that were gathering over a battlefield behind me.
To this day, especially THIS day, it galls me that Bernie got blamed for Debbie Wasserman-Schultz’s transgressions.
ha quite a prescient dream dude!!! as for Liz she would never be chagrined (or surprised) at my affections for her....i won't violate his privacy as he has a book deal but this morning i wrote him anm email about you saying i'd try to get your contact info email me: appletonking@yahoo.com
you read my first post i ever wrote on here? i once thought to go political on substack but more and more i see that as a black hole admire your outrage tho its totally warranted i suspect we will power thru this upcoming shitstorm as a deeply divided people... hell if i can have hope for the red sox this year anythings possible in this country right? heh
Dan Chlasson’s book deal is secure. Scott McKay is the go-to source on Bernie. They no doubt know each other well. I hope there’s something about the late, great Peter Freyne in there.
I don’t recall reading you on Substack before last night, TBH, I don’t recall a lot these days. My memory bank is being drained on a daily basis. Interestingly enough, I was worried about Facebook manipulating me with chatbots when I friended Mary Madden. I asked her to verify her authenticity by telling me her sister Nora’s and your name. She called you App King. Hmmm, maybe she is a bot.
Kristina Stykos from the Vanguard Press is on Substack. She writes long stream of consciousness posts like yours, albeit, with punctuation and meticulous grammar.
When I moved to the Bay Area in 1992, I was struck by how pessimistic Giants fans were, they reminded me of the Red Sox fans I left behind. In 1986, I remember trying to buy the regulars at the OP a round of drinks when the Sox were one out from winning their first World Series since before The Great War in Europe. Dick Jenks, who didn’t drink anyway, rejected my offer, saying, “It’s not over yet, they can still find a way to lose.”
This generation of Boston fans is so spoiled, as are Giants/Warriors/49ers fans. I post more about sports than politics, but I can’t help but note the synergy between the people who constantly complain about Biden’s domestic policies and detractors of the Giants’ GM, a Canadian Muslim who put together a team that recently won a franchise record 107 games. One of his big/small trades was for Carl Yastrzemski’s grandson, who fans have turned on like a hanging curveball over the middle of the plate.
never knew kristina her stuff looks great i just re stacked on here...texted with Mackay as he was at fenway today....mary is no bot she calls me by that name👍
your recollections of that era i starve for actually a latecomer to the o.p. a young guy who got into screenwriting horror films
encouraged me to write last winter and i found substack you rememeber goldfinger?
the giants fans are very literate and loyal from what ie seen when i had my 5 mins. on "social media"🤣
“And she did say ‘oops.’” That just delighted me. I love these musings of women gone by. I wonder if they can find them—how complimented they would feel to be part of your mythology.
notsomuch i suspect if the mythology took an even closer look at the parcheesi antics involved but im so glad you found something of descriptive authenticity here fleshing out people's characteristics is challenging but necessary work and its like : shit do i REALLY want to work !$$@!??#! erk