3-30-01 F 12:50 PM

I could go for a smoke and a drink. I could go for staying out all night partying, chasing girls, sleeping at some stranger's house. I'm hornier than a scarab beetle today. Washed some spunk down the bathroom sink. Whatever. I should be careful what I write. Someday my daughter may read this crap. I'll advise her not to, not even after I'm dead and gone. I typed fifteen minutes this morning. Just crap. Just trying to get reed up again. Last night, I worked on Jim. Changed "in to" to "into." That was it. I've lost it. But I'll get it back. I think I'm going to have to delete the last two paragraphs. They're just flab. They do nothing. I have to start writing with more concision. i should sign up for a new writing class. Ugh. I rode my bike to school with the newspaper dangling from the handlebars in a plastic bag. The kids read me their paragraphs from "Applemanodo's Dreams." We did the Ticket Out the Door. Checked our phonics. I read the sprots page. The Kings are a point of the playoffs and have to play Colorado tomorrow. Xeroxed the field trip slips. Read the from page. Bush is a moron. California has no majority. We went to the library. Ho-hum. The crossword puzzle stumped my ass today. I read about some movies I'd like to see "Spy Parents" or something. I forget what else. We played softball. The kids don't really have the presence of mind to play defense. I rode my bike home. Rochelle had taken Lulu to the vet. She has what's known in veterinary terms as a hundred-dollar ear infection. She, Rochelle, also made an appointment for us to take the baby to the pediatrician to have her runny nose checked out. I had wanted to go to dinner, sushi, to celebrate our raises which came through today, but I guess we'll save if for another day. The laptop is back already. That was amazingly quick. I have yet to hook it up to the internet yet to see if it works again yet. I poured me a Bushmills. I should lift some weights. I'm going to start again regularly so that I'll be all cut by the time Jeopardy wants to see me. Tomorrow is the all-day insect class. Glen's having a party tomorrow night.

 3-28-01 W 4:37 PM

I skipped school again today. Slept in 'til about 8:00. Played with the baby. I wondered when the card I delivered to have the Times delivered would start having the Times delivered. I bet it would be today and opened the door and there it was. The baby took great interest in it. She really ate up the business section. My she's a budding financial wheeler-dealer. I typed fifteen minutes at my desk. I viewed the Jeopardy tape. It needs work, but I'd be surprised (and bummed) if it doesn't get me to the interview process. You know there are some college whiz-kids and five-time champs out there who will make outstanding tapes. Ugh.  I've mishandled my time. I should have gotten Dawson and Powers to help me. Oh, well. I dropped the dictionaries off at Hoover. Then I spent about an hour driving around LA and Hollywood looking for a bar I've never been to. I guess there aren't any. But I was driving down Robertson, and I spotted Ivy, the famed lunch place of Tinseltown's power brokers. I'd always wondered where it was. It was in the movie "Get Shorty" and "Bowfinger," I'm pretty sure. Anyway, here I am. They got a mint julep Pimm's on the menu for the cost of a beer and hot dog at Staples Center, i.e. $10.75! for a damn drink. Well, if that's what it costs to drink where I've never drunk in this town, I guess it's worth it. I'm already imagining my star on the Walk of Fame. Yeah, right. This town is no place for writers. Everyone knows that. Faulkner, Fitzgerald, and Chandler knew that. It's old news. I wish I had some smoke to roll. ~~~~ Rochelle's roasting a big ol' slab of dead steer for dinner. I've only got another forty minutes or so 'til my meter runs out. I'll read some Cities of the Plain before I leave. Got to go to the bathroom to see where the Katzenbugs and Geffens of the world piss.

 

3-27-01 Tu 5:48 PM

Oh _______. What? Whatever. What’s up? What’s going on? Where am I? I haven’t written in a while. I’ve been working on this Jeopardy thing. I’m at some totally lame class led by this scatter-brained little hottie. It’s supposed to be about “scaffolding,” which is some technique that’s supposed to help students write. We’ve been here two hours now, and it’ pretty obvious that the little hottie doesn’t have a clear idea of what she’s talking about. I feel like a stroke victim whose mind works but who can’t speak, since there’s nothing to do but listen politely and not act like a superior dick. Whatever. I didn’t go to work today. I’m almost done with the tape. I just about scrapped everything we had done so far. Just cut all that staged shit and go with some enthusiastic improv. Fuck. Could I go for a drink. Urg. Bernie said she’d call from the Bonaventure around two. At four, she still hadn’t called. Rochelle aced her math test. I printed the application. Haven’t worked on Jim for over a week. I emailed Dad and Jane. Told them all about laptop woes. Fucking thing. The box for it was on the porch when we got back from Griffith Park. I’ve got the newspaper here. I’m trying not to read it. The new me doesn’t want to appear rude and arrogant at these things. I hope people think I’m taking notes related to the class. I’ve got to call Grandma and Christie. I guess I’ll go back to work tomorrow. I should be able to finish the tape tonight. I’ve got to figure out how to mail it in. What the heck else? I have a class all day Saturday at LA Hight. I guess I’ll read the paper after this. I don’t know where I am on my writing. I think I need to add a line to poor pathetic Ji. Taxes. Death. Death and Taxes.  I need some exercise. I played baseball on Sunday. Struck out twice and flew out to left. Played a flawless left field.

3-22-01 Th 12:30 PM

 "Men have in their minds a picture of how the world will be. How they will be in that world. The world may be many different ways for them but there is one world that will never be and that is the world they dream of."

    --Eduardo, the pimp from Cities of the Plain by C. McCarthy

3-22-01 Th 12:30 PM

My grandfather's watch is broken. The from over the little window where the date appears came loose and the hands are stuck on it. I typed fifteen minutes at my desk this morning. Drove to school. Got the paper. Yesterday, I sent in a card to subscribe to the paper. It's 44% off the cover price, and now that it costs fifty cents, I decided to do it, even though I like going out to get my paper. I tried to get the "Jeopardy Crew Clue" application file folder to pen on Ms. Federlin's computer next door before school this morning, but it didn't work. So, I tried to install MS Word on the computer in here, but that didn't work. So, I installed MS Works, but that wouldn't open it. Then the bell rang. The kids shared their vocabulary illustrations. Then we went over our phonics lesson. By the time that was over, it was time for music. Ti-tis and ta-tas. I read a few pages of Cities. Dogs are taking down calves. At recess, possessed, I made a desperate run to Carl's Jr and stuffed some more death into my heart. We worked on the math word problems. At lunch, I was able to at least print a copy of the application, but I still don't know how to install it. Maybe I can work on it online when I get a phone line and print it on Kuntz's computer. It's a regular waterhead fuckaround. We've got to finish our unit on the settlers. I've got to go to LA High and get books and then to Hoover to drop off keys. Maybe I can figure something out on the net there. Got to do some more taping tonight. Sunset maybe. Thing said he'd help. Maybe I'll take the day off tomorrw.

 

3-2-01 Tu 8:05 AM

Room 33. Feel like crap. Some kind of bronchitis. Going to be busy with shit all day. When school ends today, there is a staff meeting. I’ll have to leave about 3:15 to stop in at Hoover before I go tot Burbank Middlse school for a workshop until 6:30 tonight. Ugh

Yesterday I wrote a third-person page here in the third grade. After I read the newspaper, I wrote Jim down to the bottom of page one fifty. Three more lines’ll put me on page 151, like the proof of my favorite rum. Whatever. I guess I’ll give Jim a sore throat and have him drink gutter water. Like swallowing broken glass. I’m worried about this flashback. I’m afraid the thing needs to be entirely restrucgtured. I don’t know—I’d be sacrificing nuance for chronology. I’ll leave it, I guess. We worked ont eh tape last night. Did the Champs-Elyse’s question and the static electricity question and Coney Island. Still have Griffith Park, Observatory, Batcave, Hollywood sign, Marmont, Joshua Tree?, Turnstiles. Have to mail off bills. Taxes can wait until the tape is mailed. Ugh. Houses are on the backburner. Kings beat Phoenix last night, six to two. So much for Coyote goalie Sean Burke and his league-best save percentage. Ziggy Palffy and Brian Smolinski (the hero of Saturday’s OT Thriller) score two short-handed goals, fifteen seconds apart. Whoo-whoo! I feel like crap. I have to call Dr. Kaplan to find out if I should stop taking Flovent now that I’m taking Serevent, and can I still take Albuterol. I feel like shit. When I’m done here, I’ll read some Cities of the Plain. Then I’ll type a third person. Then I’ll read the newspaper. What am I forgetting? I need swum rest. I’m thirsty. I wonder if I’m sick because Jim is sick. Maybe it’s some physical manifestation of my imagination. Maybe all the rain we go this winger was because of the storm I was writing. I better get the car washed and check the oil. I feel like crap. My abdominal muscles are sore from all the coughing.

3-18-01 Su 10:25 AM

I’m sitting at the kitchen table. I’m still not feeling well. Yesterday was St. Pat’s. I poured some Bushmills in my coffee yesterday morning. I drank it and did it again. Then I poured some in my orange juice. I call that a sunburn. I had about three of those. Rochelle’s mom came, and I made one for her. About ten, Rochelle and I walked up to Wilshire to wait for the bus. A cab came before the bus, though, so we hailed the cab. We stopped at the Gaylord and met Thing and his date, Kewena. We all had a shot of Jim Beam and walked to the subway. We went to the Pantry, and I had steak and eggs and French toast. Then, we walked to the Staples Center. I got a Bailey’s and coffee and a Hennessey’s and a Lite beer. We had a smoke on the patio before puck drop. The King seemed lifeless, like they still weren’t awake for the early start, especially old man Robitaille, but Potvin stopped every shot San Jose slapped at him. The arenas was rocking. Tied zero-zero, the game went to OT. Selanne made his Shark debut. “Hit ‘im in the stitches,” I yelled. “The knee! The knee!” A row of people in Shark jerseys expressed their disapproval. “That’s not cool, man!”

“What would anyone from San Jose know about ‘cool!’ I fired back. I grinned at them.

Forty seconds into OT, Smolinski got one past the Sharks standout rookies netminder, Evgeni Nabakov, and everyone went nuts. The Kings pulled to within two points of Phoenix, who play tomorrow. If they win that game, they’ll be tied for the last playoff spot.

After the game, we walked up Flower past Seventh to the Irish pub, Casey’s. But in a perfect example of what’s wrong with downtown LA, it was closed. An Irish pub in the center of a major American city, closed on St. Patrick’s Day. Where else in the English-speaking world? So we walked back to the Milner Hotel on Figueroa to try the Backdoor Pub, but it was closed, too. Weekend, ghost town downtown LA. So, we took the subway to the Biltmore, and the bar there was open. We drank and shot pool and watched UCLA and USC advance to the Sweet Sixteen round of the NCAA basketball tournament. After a couple of beers, we walked to Pershing Square and took the subway to Wilshire/Vermont. We said good-by to Thing and Kawena, took a bus back to Hudson, and walked home. 

 

3-14-01 W 4:20 PM

I’m in the parent center at Hoover. I’m going to leave soon so I can tape “To Kill a Mockingbird.” The tax forms came today. I’ve still got that Jeopardy plan to work on.  Need to enroll in a class. Our offer has been accepted on the house in Downey. $185,000. I’m a little sad about leaving LA. Bailin’ LA so the kids can play. Hmm. I’ll have a garage. No dickhead DJ to have to share a wall with. Maybe I can get a pool table! A kid today told me I looked like penguin because of my pointy nose. I had just been tripping on my nose. It does seem pointier than usual. I typed fifteen minutes at Wilshire Hill. Read the paper. Took care of some more conferences. I half wanted to jump Priscilla’s mom. I read up to page fifty in the Tax Planner. I need to sign up for the classes by Monday. I should get that out of the way first, I guess. Rochelle has class tonight. I don’t know how much the baby will let me get done.

[color photo; Float Plan Ascending from Lake Coeur d’Alene, August 1997] 9:55 Home now. Rochelle has just come in from her algebra class. The Kings are beating the Sharks. Felix “The Cat” Potvin has been nearly unstoppable. I hope he and the Kings do as well when we see them this Saturday at Staple Center. I fille dout the registration form for the salary credit classes. I’ve got to remember to put it in school mail tomorrow. I have to plan and prepare for my Jeopardy Clue Crew audition. Nail down the dates, plan wardrobe, makeup, locations. Maybe I’ll not worry about doing my taxes until I’ve mailed the tape and application. How is a credit different than a deduction? I still have to call the credentialing office. Maybe I’ll fill out the EZ form real quick before bed tonight just to have a comparison point.

 3-12-01 12:45 PM M

I can't find the photograph I want to draw on the last page. Maybe it's at home. I'm at school. I typed fifteen minut3es at lunch and read a chapter of the Sixty Minute Tax Planner. I'm no less confused about tases than I was before I read it. It looks like maybe we can deduct childcare, or I guess not. Or maybe I can shift some investment income into Ada's name. Who knows? I just wish the fucking forms would arrive. Maybe I should try to file a W-4 before I go home today. I ate some microwave Swedish meatballs. I've done all this paperwork already today, and there's still more to be done. I have ELD levels to report and portfolio forms to fill out and a transfer survey to do, and it'll be a time-consuming pain in the ass that adds up to nothing. But that's the way things work around here. Whatever. [underwater color photo of The Bottom of the Sea, Under the Atlantic Off New Providence Island, Bahamas, 1999]

It's the kind of thing that makes you think of Mr. Limpet, who wished he was a fish. Yeah, right.

Ms. Richards, who has been so excited about her pregnancy, tells me she learned that the fetus has spinal bifida, that the brain is developing outside the fetus. She is crushed. I don't know how to comfort her. I say, it's a blessing that you can learn these things in advance. She says she will terminate the pregnancy. They will have a burial for the unborn child. It seems to me that the Creator is imperfect. That spinal bifida is a mistake, an overlooked error in the proofreading of creation. Perhaps it makes the miracle of a healthy birth all the more beautiful. I do not know. Pablo wants his mom to take him to the beach so he can see the Titanic on the floor. I tell him he would need millions of dollars, unlesses he wishes to be a fish and his wish comes true. I don't know if there are any fish that can go that deep, but maybe there are.

 Su 3-11-01 7:15 AM

Today is Mac's birthday. Supposedly he is on his way home from Washington DC where he and Denny delivered a car. It may have been legit, but I know Denny has down some sketchy repo work and has been in prison for a drug smuggling deal that went wrong. He's around six' eight", three sixty. No exaggeration. I hope my brother is okay. I hope the light goes on in his head. "There's always time to change the road you're on." Yeah. Platitudes, that's what he needs. Urg.          I'm lying in bed with the baby between the wife and me and the dog at our feet. The kid is grunting and clutching, kicking the covers around, kicked off her socks, put her hand in her diaper. The wife's asleep. I read this morning that the Sadducees were rich Jews and the Pharisees were more of a common sect, both of which Jesus took to task for their hypocrisy.

I woke up this morning, and I thought, there's no way we can afford a fifteen-hundred-dollar-a-month mortgage. It's funny the "mort" in "mortgage." It'll be the death of me. You got "age" in there, too. Ugh. Rochelle dreamed we were at a restaurant eating and that I had a heart attack and died. I can't say that sounds far-fetched. urg. I typed fifteen minutes on the laptop last night while I lay in bed. It might have been worth the two thousand bucks. Seems like even after we pay our bills we

I have a thousand bucks a month left for food and entertainment. What about paying for school? Caroline is coming up to see the baby again this week. Fudd and Maria are coming over, too. I should stop by the market for peanut butter and trash bags and more wings. What else? I'll read the news when I'm done here. Pioneer Square, Seattle 1997 [pencil drawing]

There's a picture from Seattle with some cool lines that I'm going to draw when I find it and have time. I guess we're going to check out that house again today. I have to call my mom and grandmother. Write a third person.

3-8-01 Out of Order

 Barth 415 555-4462

#55

3-9-01 F 2:06 PM

On the yard. Played handball with the kids. Breathless. Cool breeze. Typed fifteen minutes this morning. There was no one to kiss good-bye. Gathered my stuff and left with a

[Grandma's Toaster] bacon and egg toaster pastry. Rode my bike to school. The kids are tripping on this picture. I did two report cards this morning and wrote a lesson plan to give to Yale explaining what we did last time she claimed not to understand the objective. We went to the library. I read the paper. I have to figure out about my credential and taxes. Read some more Cities. Do a third person. I should just head home from here. "Hud" is on TCM tonight. Guess I'll tape it. I can also work on that "Jeopardy Clue Crew" application. Should I take home some report cards? I could go have a drink and read the New Times, but I think that will make me a bad father and husband. I've got to work on Jim. I wonder what great philosophers have considered the nature of evil. I guess I'll just have the man dunder th4e bridge spout some Buddhist philosophy and have Jim fall back asleep and get it to morning and him to the tow yard. I had some microwave chicken and broccoli for lunch. One of my kids gave me some booze-filled chocolates: Kahlua in one and orange Stoli in another. We have conferences next week. Seven kids are out with chicken pox right now. I need to write a rent check today. Maybe have a big smoke. Or more like a little smoke. Whatever. [Photo of the Seattle Kingdome in 1997 before they blew it down]