10,884. RUDIMENTS, pt. 343

RUDIMENTS, pt. 343

Making Cars

I've never much been a party

to conflict, taking sides, etc.

My life has been a long horizon,

with things dancing upon it as

they all stretched to horizons

of places I wasn't headed. That

requires silence, some distancing,

and a sort of removal from taking

immediate sides; like when they

say 'never write that blistering

letter in response to something

without first 'sleeping' on it and

going back to the issue in the

morning.' I guess that works.

A lot of stupid moves are done,

and a lot of stupid words are

spoken, in haste, heats of the

moments, and all the rest. In

the same regard, a good passion

rules a good life, so the opposite

of that could probably be argued

as well. (And who likes to sleep

on  a letter anyway? [joke]). And 

I'd probably be one to do that. 

The counter-arguing, not the

sleeping on the letter. But then 

again, that's why things like Twitter,

from what I understand (I don't

partake so don't know) should

probably come with a hangman's

noose as the icon or logo.

-

My idea of things was 'character,'

as in building one. I'd seen lots

of people, some of those I've

already mentioned  - like Jim

Tomberg, for one  -  who had

actually made a character of

themselves. That worked for me.

Why not just be, if nothing else,

for God's sake, an 'interesting'

person. It was apparent the

world was already filled with

boring drones, dead and vacuous

people going about their equally

deadening paths and staying

with it all. That cliched, old,

probably even apocryphal,

Chinese 'curse' was always

bandied about (1970's)  -

'May your children live in

interesting times.' Yeah, I

heard that like 20 times a

month for a while, always

said, of course, by the most

stupid and ritualistic people,

waylaying the phrase's sense

of usefulness if it had any.

All those Walter Cronkite sorts

always managed to slip that

in, with the wise-ass half TV

grin showing that they 'knew'

the joke and the routine far

better than you, so get it.

Screw 'interesting times.' For

Heaven's sake, first make

yourself interesting. Find

something interesting to

say or think about, make an

interesting character of your

own self. Heave the rest.

-

There were always things I

was unable to fathom, having

little of the undertsanding

needed to figure them out. Like,

for one, why people needed

money  - not just needed, but 

gave their lives away for it. I

could understand  - don't get

me wrong  -  about how you

maybe need the food money 

and household stuff to be 

living, but some people, in

turn, dedicated their entire lives

to its pursuit. I could never be

bothered, because it held no

definition for me. And it

certainly was not complicated.

And to be 'interesting,' things

needed a certain level of both

complication and definition   - 

much as an artist, seeking a face

to portray, needs an interesting

and a complicated face to work

from. Defined. They're not that

easy to find, but they're out there.

They bear the same connections

and lineage as does the 'interesting'

person  -  odd angles, active lines.

The stuff of hidden assortment

and surprise. In the same way,

I've never met an interesting

person who owned a second 

house, (I mean, really, who 

then needs two houses? And 

especially  -  as in the case

of so many of these New York

types I was among  -  when the

first thing carped about are the

'needs of the poor, and our

responsibility as a society to

provide...' all that crap; you

know how it is. Try to take

their house away and give the

proceeds back to those in

need. See how far you get.

These jerks will start screaming 

into their raw, unprocessed

wheat germ with lemon-zinger

tea). Sometimes loyalty to a

concept ends when it hits your

pocket. I liked it all simple, and

quiet. No causes, much; no 

parades. In the Studio School

I got to know a few really 

monied people  -  besides 

the rich and famous artists 

and musician sorts who came 

through  -  and, mostly, they

were a crummy enough bunch.

Nothing real offensive just 

perversely selective and 

biased. I thought. I won't be

lying to you though  -  it 

wasn't as if I didn't wish I

had their money. Thirty-grand

back then could have made

my forlorn days for weeks.

-

I never had any reason to be 

that way, seeing as how I 

basically had gotten there 

from nothing and with

nothing. I never even knew 

half the concepts these people 

dealt with. You have to imagine  

-  and  I'm asking you to  -  

someone like me just blowing 

onto this type of scene. I  

was a zombie for the first 

two months, I'm  sure. 

With nothing, and knowing

nothing. One of the first

people I meet when I finally

did get settled was some crazed,

giant Mexican-Indian of a

guy from Colorado. I had a

pretense of never being

gullible, at least enough to

protect my own person, and

this guy's story was a bit much,

but I just listened and wondered

about him. It was asking nothing

from me. Or, maybe I could 

have ratted him out and got

some money. Killing a wife

doesn't happen everyday; and

then spilling the beans about it

and giving the incidentals of both

place and time, and method too.

I suppose I could have cooked

this guy's goose but good.

-

Now, you think to yourself, about

this - is making such a judgment a

good thing? An intelligent thing?

Did it mark me as the dumb-ass

I may have been, for not having

done so? Not turning him in? Not
ratting? Would a wiser and more

educated person (then) have done

so? Do you see my thought pattern.

I have to be truthful  -  that was

then. This is now; and I really doubt

you'd find 30 people in a 30-mile

radius of me schooled in things as

much as I am now. Point of pride.

[Editor: insert that here and make 

sure it stays. Citation, Boswell,

ibid, and all that crud!]. I never

have seen that guy again in, now, 

what, 50-plus years. If he's dead,

that's fine. If he's not, maybe I

hope he got what was coming, 

maybe I don't. I said I never

took sides.