Colin and the 9-11 Reading

I've been doing what I do when I lose someone I love: putting their name in the search in the folder of my journals (which I've been writing digitally since, I don't know, the turn of the century) and seeing what I come up with about them. I found an entry I'd written on September 12, 2009. The day after a reading that Tom Spanbauer had put together (I believe) in remembrance of 9-11. 

By then, I had been a member of Tom's Dangerous Writers class for four years. I'm not sure how long Colin Farstad had been a member, less than I. I think this may have been Colin's first public reading of his work (alongside Tom and Dangerous Writers Kevin Meyer and Elizabeth Taylor). It was at Powell's on Hawthorne, which was a big deal for a new writer, and all four had written original essays, about 9-11, for the event.

Here are a few chunks from my journal, chronicling the event (and for context, I had read at a different reading recently, and I reference it in my comments).

First in the journal there was a section I'd headed: Random quick blips from yesterday. In no certain order.

Last night after the reading when Tom told me that the way he was able to keep himself from crying, reading his piece, was looking at the old man in the front row and pretending that man was his father and he was going to laugh at him for crying. I said, “Wow, that’s so,” and paused just a moment, “twisted.” His smile went from big to bigger, and I told him the emotions he showed just made the reading that much better for us.

 

Colin at the podium. That spread of books on the shelves behind him. Big Colin smile. He’s been so excited about this and saying things like, every time I go over the railroad tracks, or see 11:11 on the clock, or, or, or – I have to close my eyes and make a wish. Afraid it wouldn’t happen after all. But it did.

 

Before the reading, telling Colin how he’d told me, before my reading, his way of being nervous earlier in the day before his performances (Closureyes) but then, getting up to show time, coming to a calm. Telling him how that helped me not be nervous for my reading and hoping the reminder would be good for him too.

That last segment is a little hard to follow. What I was saying is that when I had been nervous about reading my own work in an earlier event, Colin had told me that when he performed with his band Closureyes, he always got nervous early in the day but by the time he went on, the nerves would be gone. That comment had helped me feel less nervous about getting up to read, and so I hoped that telling him so, before his own reading, would help him not be nervous too.

OK, so here's another chunk, later in the journal entry, when I had stopped jotting random moments and was writing out the event as it had unfolded:

Colin [read] third. He probably read slower than he usually reads in class – yes, I think he did. But he was a bit fast and he has that way of mushing his words together. Made some lines hard to catch. Me, I kind of like that he read like he reads, that Colin way, but it’s too bad that you missed things. Like the cool way he dissected and inverted the god is in the details thing.

Some bits of his piece: Kissing without kissing. Letting the girl smoke in the apartment. Taking comfort in the human touch (that was said twice, I think, and was the last line of the piece). The story I tell over drinks and cigarettes. Shoulder to shoulder, cavemen around the campfire. Knee to knee on the couch (with his roommates watching the TV).

Colin got to introduce Tom. Well, not introduce, but call him up. Tom spoke as he always does. That soft blue powder voice, the hesitations and the places where that voice stumbles – all of it charming.

I wish I had Colin's 9-11 essay to read again now. To get the context for the lines I pulled out, the kissing without kissing, the cavemen around the campfire. To remind myself what I meant when I said that Colin "dissected and inverted the god-is-in-the-details thing." (Hyphens added because I've learned some about punctuation since 2009.) Mostly, though, I'm just happy that I thought to write down some of the moments of an event in Colin's life that obviously meant a lot to him. And happy to have been there in the audience for it.

And happy that I've always had that impulse to snap pictures even when I've never had the aptitude for it. 

The readers preparing before the start of the event.

Colin receiving his applause.

where it all began, for me, with steve arndt

Truly, Steve Arndt is the reason I am a part of what feels like the best, most thriving and supportive literary community in the country. If you're a part of that community, this may be true for you too. And if you're part of that community, I'm sending a big hug as we all get used to the hole he leaves behind.

I've been doing what I do when I lose someone. Looking at pictures and reading what I have written about them and our story together in my old journals. I wanted to share a little. This collection is some journal entries and some emails, actually, because it tells the story better.

My backstory is that I had been emailing back and forth with Stephen (my Stephen, the O'Donnell one) for months without having met him, and was going to be taking a trip to Portland to visit my family and meet him in person for the first time. That first visit to meet Stephen, I also met Steve.

From my journal, October 5, 2004. This is before the trip. In here, I'm writing about chatting with my aunt Kathy on the phone about the man I was coming up to meet.

When I said his name was Stephen, she said that was funny because she has all sorts of Stephens around her, and she wanted to introduce me to Sienna’s boyfriend Steve, who is a writer and has taken a year off to write a book and who is connected to the apparently very huge writing community that is in Portland. He is involved in writing workshops and such, and I guess she told him about me, and she says he’d like to talk to me. So that was interesting, too. I said, you know, I’ve always been afraid of the social aspect of the whole writing community thing, and I realize that maybe if I want to get anywhere, I have to jump into it. Very terrifying, but I would like to meet and talk to him and see how things go there.

Now from October 25. I'd flown up, hung out with family, met Stephen, and here was my first meeting with Steve, out at dinner on, I think, the third night of that visit. (When I mention "Seth's book," that was a novel I had been writing at the time.) 

We were sort of in the middle of that discussion when Steve and Sienna came. That shifted the dynamic of the conversation, but it was still very nice. I enjoyed meeting Steve, who is involved in writing and has an accomplished mentor. I can’t remember all that he said, but a couple times I found myself intrigued by the way he speaks about writing or art in general. I remember talking to him about the voice I use in Seth’s book, how I think it’s a good point of the novel. He expressed an interest in giving me some encouragement, and we exchanged email addresses. And all laughed over some pistachio dessert that no one liked but Stephen and which Kathy remarked quite loudly was, “Really crappy.”

This photo is the very first photo I have of Steve, from that dinner.

Now, an email from him from the next day.

last night, if i talked too much, forgive, so nice to be in a conversation about art with artists. not that its some kinda exclusive club. really like stephen and hope to know him better over time.

please if you wanna have a dialoge about writing and won't mind my shity spelling, please e me with your thoughts and concerns. my biggest thing right now is just sitting down and doing writing. in a relationship what you thought was good use of time in the past slips into another good use of time.

hope you arrive safe and strong, steve arndt

And from a later email:

let me know the next time you come up. would love to introduce you to my mentor here in portland, tom spanbauer, ('the man who fell in love with the moon," a pulitzer nominee in 93 and most recently, 'in the city of shy hunters').

yes to stephen, same way i spell it, he has an easy humility that gives comfort.

yes to bob dylan, 'he not busy being born is busy dying.'

take care, thanks sea

I don't know if the yesses were in response to anything in my own correspondence or just Steve talking poetic, as he tended to do without thinking.

Another email. This is me to Kathy on November 1, 2005. She'd told me if I wanted to move to Portland, I could stay with her while I got myself settled. And she offered to pay my way to take some classes at PSU if I wanted, because they had (have) a writing program, something that you could actually earn a degree in. A degree in writing was, at least at the time (I don't know about now), a rare thing.

Hey, I'm thinking seriously about PSU. There are so many reasons I feel it would be something smart for me to explore. I'm actually looking into getting my college transcripts and such together now. Who knows if I'd actually get in, but I really like what I've read about the English department—and Steve Arndt (sp?) has really done a lot to sell me on the writing community there. I was telling Mom: it's more than just school, I think. I've always tried to avoid the idea that to get somewhere with writing you need to get involved in a writing community, do workshops, network... all stuff I was terrified of. I kind of feel like, yes, I need to do this type of thing to get me out there—but that I'm really too shy to do it on my own. And I feel like, hey, Steve might help me feel comfortable enough to... kind of go for it.

This is what Steve did for people. This is what he did for me.

Back to my journal. I want to share one last entry. This was when he took me to meet Tom Spanbauer. I said "class" below, and Tom did famously run a class, his Dangerous Writing workshop, but this was a one-on-one session between them. In it, Steve took a chapter of the book he was writing and read it aloud and then there was discussion about the pages afterward. I felt very privileged to be able to sit in on this intimate work time between them.

February 12, 2005. 

I went to class with Steve and it ran an hour overtime. I felt very welcomed by Tom, and I made a couple comments about Steve’s chapter, and Tom received the comments and engaged me. At one point, Steve looked across the table at me and asked, “Would you say that’s written like most writers write their books?” Or something. And I said, “Do you ask that because you’re not sure or because you already know the answer?” and Tom laughed. 

Steve had said that this latest offering was kind of bland and he wasn’t all that happy with it, yet it was brilliant. I told him after he’d read that it was so good I almost didn’t want to join the class. And they both took that as the compliment it was meant as. And Tom actually told me that at times, he’s been jealous of Steve’s work.

Yes, I think I'll leave this collection of snippets there. I think Steve would (reluctantly and self-deprecatingly) approve.

Raising a glass to Peg

Today would have been my friend (since I was six) Peg's eightieth birthday. As a kid I always remembered it, of course, because it was the Fourth of July. This birthday is so bittersweet because she just left us all two short days ago. I'm still in that place where I don't quite believe it. When I want to honor someone, if only just for myself, whether it be for their passing or their birthday, I tend to search their name in my partially-digitized diary, looking for passages I can pull out and maybe share. or maybe just read through. Memories I've forgotten. I started doing that this morning, poking around through my computer, looking at little mentions of her, but then I ran out of time and had to get on the clock for work.

The other night, Stephen was telling me a special Peg memory of his, which he also shared on a loved one's post on Facebook today, about an evening when we had Peg over for dinner:

The three of us sat outside and had a lovely meal. When we asked her what wine she wanted to drink, she told us that she never drank wine in this country, that she only drank wine in Europe; she thought the wine you could get here was way inferior to what you could get there. So, no thank you! I got such a kick out of that; that was so HER.

I loved that little snippet of memory. And I mentioned it to my mom just now on the phone. And she told me that years ago, when she and my dad introduced Peg to Australian wine (we lived in Melbourne for a few years when I was very young), it was the same: Peg loved it so much she decided that she'd only want to drink Australian wine. 

Funny, when I got off the phone with Mom, I jumped back on my diary search, poking around my old journals and looking for Peg's name, and this came up. It's not a memory of Peg per se. It's Peg's memory of my dad. One that she shared in a long email thread I started back in 2020 after my dad died, wanting to collect stories about him. This was Peg's offering, and she told it because she was thinking about Dad, but I would like to share it, thinking about her. She said:

I have so many stories to share. My fondue story is one of them. It was the adults having fondue one evening. Everyone had left the table except Don and me. He had opened a bottle of Wynn’s Cabernet and he and I finished it off and maybe opened another. It was wonderful wine and I credit him with introducing me to its charms. He saved his last bottle of Wynn’s for my 40th birthday some years later because he remembered how much I loved it. I still have the empty bottle, even though you can hardly read the label.

Mara can tell you how I never stopped talking about that wine, to the point that she was compelled one Christmas to import a few bottles for me!

There are many more stories that show how much I loved that man. He was one of a kind and will never be forgotten.❤

I kind of love that sentence, "I credit him with introducing me to its charms." I love the whole passage because it's a memory of my dad and a memory of Peg, not to mention my lovely friend Mara, but also because it's so full of Peg's voice. Like she said about Dad, she was a one of a kind and never to be forgotten. And though I don't have any European wine or any Australian wine, and though I'm sipping on a two-hour-old peanut smoothie that's gloopy and half separated, I do raise a glass to her. A woman of class and grit and humor and a woman who knew what she liked. Like this other tiny memory I came across, from my diary back in 1985:

Of course the 2nd thing that made the day good was the Everly Brothers concert. It was really great. Let me see…what did they sing? “Bye Bye Love”, “Bird Dog”, “Kathy’s Clown”, “On the Wings of a Nightengale”, “Wake up Little Suzie”, “All I have to do is dream”, “Claudette”, “Be Bop alula”, Oh so much! And it was great! I got myself a t-shirt & a poster which is a collage of their albums & magazine covers. Peg got a copy of a tape that was a concert they did in ’83 which was very similar to ours.

We came home with the top of Dad’s convertible down and Peg’s tape blaring “Claudette”, “Bye Bye Love”, “Bird Dog” out of the speakers.

Some passages from my journals about my good friend Robert Hill

Robert Hill was my second close friend to pass away in a very short period of time, and I've been looking through my old journals for stories I wrote down about both of them. I compiled a bit of a post with excerpts for each of them, and this one is for Robert—a sadly inadequate and incomplete collection as my journaling is scant at times, especially in these later years full of projects and not enough time. But I'm thankful for the memories I did write down, and I thought I'd share for anyone who's missing him.

Some commentary and explanations in italics before the entries. 

*

This took place at the home of Tom Spanbauer where I and some friends were in his Dangerous Writing workshop. The "outside group" I mention is a small writing group threesome of Steve Arndt, Kathleen Lane, and me, that we were talking about expanding, and which eventually became the Henry Writing Group (because we met at the Henry, across the street from Powell's). Diane and Dian are different people, not a typo. I honestly can't remember whether I had met Robert by now. It's the first mention of him in my journals.

Friday, February 22, 2008, 2:25 PM—Pages went well—rewrite passed—of course, Diane wasn't there. 

And outside, we were talking—Kathleen, Steve and me—about the outside group. She's spoken to Robert Hill, who's interested, and she wants to invite Dian.

Just a tiny snippet about when I started reading Robert Hill's first book When All Is Said and Done.

Thursday, February 28, 2008... 2-28-2008... nice—10:28 AM—Finished Now is the Hour yesterday morning and have started Robert Hill's book.

Lots of voice. I've already come across good humor and sadness and social issues.


This was a writing retreat the Henry Writers took together, and Robert used the time to work on a story he was writing for the book Stephen and I were producing, The Untold Gaze.
Monday, October 20, 2014, 4:05 PM—Lovely day-long writing retreat at the Tiny House. It was Liz, Kathleen, Robert, Sara and I, and the house was lovely. I spent most of the writing time up in the loft bedroom, which was so low you had to crawl across the floor to get to the bed, and the roof was a steep slant over your head. It felt cozy sitting on the bed with pillows and a window at my back. Sounds of frogs through that window. And geese. Geese were flying over constantly. At one point, I sort of stretched and craned my neck back and upside-down saw so many geese fly across the sky. Lovely sounds to write by. That and the occasional giggling of Robert just about directly below me in the great room. Giggling to himself about the piece he was writing for Stephen’s book. In the end he told me he was a little over the limit. “You wanted 600 words, right? Mine’s…” squinty-eyed face, “eleven hundred.”

Snippet from Henry Writing Group.

Wednesday, October 28, 2015, 9:41 AM—Laura surprised us all with the opening to a new book, and Kathleen surprised us with a piece from a whole book she’s written in a month and a half. Both were amazing. Robert with a gorgeous new early piece to his new book, which was very different and added so much to the story. Sara with an essay on rape, which was strong but which we were able to give her a lot of good feedback on. Which she’s writing for a submission to an anthology headed up by Roxane Gay. Dian with a great story she wrote in a garden in France. Liz with a rejection letter for her memoir that she wanted feedback on. It was a night of being enriched in the company of some of my favorite people. And inspired.

More writing group. The reference to "poeh-treh" is about a performance Stephen and I did at the Poe Show, but what I love about this entry is that it was the first time Robert saw copies of The Remnants, his second book, which Forest Avenue Press published and whose cover I was honored to design.

Wednesday, January 20, 2016, 2:20 PM—had Group last night to fill my soul up again. I read for the first time in months. It felt very pedestrian and not that interesting, but I just wanted to get them back on track with the reading and me back on track with bringing stuff in. All evening, Liz, Steve and Robert kept talking about “poeh-treh” and laughing and talking about how good we were. Liz said as soon as we finished performing, she stood up in applause. “And I hate standing ovations!” she said. Robert walked me to my car afterward and asked me where the inspiration for Lord and Lady Bungalow came from. So funny that it just popped out of our mouths while driving around, on the way to Cape Meers that early trip when we found Bayocean and didn’t get swept away by a tsunami. Laura brought the first copies of The Remnants, hot off the press. She gave Robert a copy of the Poets and Writers that has the piece on Forest Avenue Press and followed it up with pulling out six copies of the book and handing him one. The delight on his face. So fun to watch him look at the actual book for the first time. A couple times I caught him just sort of lightly petting the cover like it was a delicate bird. 

Then the wrap-up of Robert's Powell's book launch for The Remnants.
Friday, March 18, 2016, 10:24 AM—Well, Robert’s launch was a lovely night. Looks like there were at least 75 people. The party at Liz’ beforehand was very nice. Stephen and I met Wes at the call box, and that was a lovely surprise. There were maybe 25 people at the party, and then Group had the front row for the reading, which I think was nice. Stephen and me, Kathleen, Steve, Liz, Dian, Sara (Margaret was out sick but just found out she was one of the runners up for the PEN, which is amazing), Laura, of course, Norm. Stevan Allred. Brad came, which was nice. Jamie, sitting alone in back. Liz was the intro, which was fabulous, and Robert gave a lovely tribute to Tom, which I told him about in my letter. Robert had flowers and/or presents for folks he was thanking, and mine… I sat on the floor and opened it with Kathleen and Steve and inside… so clever. First I unwrapped what looked like crackers and I thought, OK, where’s the cheese. It wasn’t until I finished going through it that it occurred to me, and I said to Kathleen, no, this is just like in the book! Tea and saltines! He gave me two tea cups and saucers, tea and saltines. And a sprig of apple blossoms which—he searched for… what is it in the book… cherry blossoms? But this was a good substitute. He really had the crowd laughing as he read. Stevan likened it to Shakespeare, how at first, you’re a little lost in the language and then you click into it and it becomes this understood, beautiful language you ride, and I think it’s true—the laughter just built. 

Another snippet from writing group, this time on Zoom, with a mention of the next book Robert had been working on. (The "poor mouse" is something a crow left in our birdbath, if you must know.)
Wed, May 12, 2021 at 12:08 PM—I had Henry group, which was just Liz, Robert, Steve and me as Kathleen, who was supposed to join us at the beginning and then the end, couldn't get back on at the end. I only saw her for a moment as she was getting off (I was a little late because of the poor mouse). Robert read the end of his book, which was amazing, and Liz read the beginning of a new project. So it felt like a momentous meeting. We talked and talked about just the last few lines of Robert's book, and it felt like a privilege to do so. 

Finally, here are Robert's final words from the final email I got from him. I wanted to share them, not because he mentions reading the book I've been writing, but because I like to picture him there, sitting outside, just enjoying some coffee, and goofing around, beautifully, with words like always.

It's going to be 88 here today. It's glorious out. I'm sitting on the front porch with my coffee looking at a haze of sage pollen waft across the driveway just in my sight line to a cluster of daffodils across the road.

Bugs are buzzing, an owl is hooting, in the distance several dogs are engaged in an a cappella argument.

I have barely had any clarity to work on STUCK. Maybe 4 pages in the past 3 weeks? Ugh. But... I am looking forward to devoting a church of outdoor time today to diving into your book because it's so charming. And so you. And so therefore attention must be paid! Wait... Willy? Is that you? Are you home from Albany? The boys have a bone to pick with you! What? Lunch with the mayor of Providence? How... special. I made meatloaf for dinner. Digestion must be made.

Some passages from my journals about my good friend Mara

I recently lost a very close friend who I'd known since I was six and she was four. I started to poke through my old journals, the ones I'd transcribed to computer (which is far from all of them), where I could do a search of her name and see what I found. Most of what I found was nondescript, mentions of hanging out, vaguely-described good times. But I pulled out some passages that were more particular, going back through the years, that I thought I'd share for anyone who knew Mara. 

Some commentary and explanations in italics before some entries. Spelling and punctuational errors intact because at the start of this, I am eight.

*

I had a cassette tape and was getting various friends and family to sing and talk on it with me.

January 31, 1978—On my tape, Mara and I had made a martian story. Something happened & the tape speeded up. We were talking fast & high. It echoed. It sounded so neat!

I'm ashamed to share this one because Mara and I were playing a ditch 'em game from my sister Edina, and how mean is that? Also, apparently we were climbing around Mara's monkey bars with pillows on top of it... eek. But it was a very particular memory I have of being with her, just the two of us.
April 9, 1978—today Mara and I were trying to get away from edina, and we had an idea. it took a while But I got over mara's Fense. I let mara in the T bar had pillows on it and we got on it, and got the giggles. 

We were camping at a place called Campland, and they were shooting some sort of commercial. Friendly the Wolf was the place's mascot.

May 11, 1980—Today I got in another comercial. I was a background. We made a mound of sand for friendly the wolf to sit on. Shena, Heather, Tom, Edina, Mara, Ryan and I walked in the background while friendly the wolf talked. We went home. I watched video taped movies.

The "(s)" below is me describing a motion with the hands that looks like an S.

September 30, 1982—Edina's birthday. We went to the French Pantry for Edina's birthday. Alaine (a waitress) teaches sign language. She gave us name signs. Mine's an "E" (left hand) rubbing my right arm. (I like to make music). Edina is 2 "E"s signing "talk". Frankie is an "F" with the 3 last fingers chomping the thumb for Pac-Man. Heather is "H" (s) Shena is 2 "S"s playing a flute. Alaine's is an "A" dancing. Mara signs "Super Jew." 

October 16, 1982—We played our soap opera. You see, about a weak ago we made a soap opera. I'm Lisa Van Jua, a snob. Mara's my sister Andrea. Heather's Stephany Shore. Edina's her 16 year old sister Kathy Morgan. Shena is Jackie Benit. Frankie is Christopher Shena's son & Heather's adopted son. I'm a modle. It's a lot of fun!

The Butlers were/are Shena and Mara's good friends.
February 20, 1983—We went to a mission. Then we ate breakfast out. Then we went home. Noni had a big get-together, the Butlers came. I was so mad. Shena and Mara were acting all hot. I got to Special on Lady bug again. We had sundaes. 

May 29, 1983—We swam in the lake again. Today I lost one of my ear plugs in the water. Heather & Frankie made up a "Star Wars" presentation & after it we came home. Tonight, Mara & Heather spent the night. We swam in the pool. We watched part of "The Blue & the Grey", I turned it off & I went to sleap.

This entry really got to me because Mara's personality shines through so beautifully. It was a visit with a good friend Ian, who we hadn't really hung out with since his brother (my first best friend) had died a year before. (Colleen was a friend of the family and I guess Sean was her son. I don't remember him.)

Oct 4, 1984, 6:47 PM—Well, Colline brought Ian and Sean over this after noon. We (Shena, Mara, & I) saw them drive up in the van they've always had, as we walked home from school. Mara, instantly tore off her shoes and began to run toward our house and I followed close behind. Shena, however, stayed back abit. Ian got out of the van and it's true. He's almost as tall as I am. Mara gave him a big hug. I don't know why I didn't. I guess I was too scared to know what to do. Mara said a few words and started, with Shena, towards their house. We went in our house. Colline and Mom were talking and Ian and I just stood around for awhile. He seemed as scared as I was. But, then, we both began to loosen up. We played Sean a couple games of pin-ball. Ian got 500,00 on one game. Sal and Susan were over with Chandler. Then, we all began to play tag. It was Ian and me against all the kids. The boundaries were the whole house and yard and we captured them and put them in our "dungeon" It was like old times. Later, Mara came back up and she, Ian, and I talked in my room about old times and things. We talked about Big Bear and the hill behind his house and the tree house he has in his back yard and camping and playing zoo. I was really sad when he left. I think he's coming back on next Tuesday or something.

12/25/84 7:11 P.M.—Shena and Mara came by and we took a boat ride with Coco in which we sang songs and saved someone's volleyball. Now, they're gone and we're back at the McFerrin's lake house where we're spending the night.

There are a lot of years between my childhood and the millennium that I haven't transcribed for computer. Here, Mara was getting married and friends and family were making a quilt for her as a wedding gift, each person making one square.

Saturday, July 21, 2001, 6:49 am—I started painting background squares for Mara's quilt square yesterday. I have it laid out and am now onto the painting portion. I hope the thing doesn't look completely stupid. I'm using the story of Mara from our childhood, in which they had just moved in and she was going up and down the street asking if parents had any kids she could play with. I'm leaving Kirsten out and just doing a cartoon of Mara at an open door asking the question, with an inset, then, of an older Mara—because we could find no good childhood photos amongst Mom's stuff, nothing that didn't have a hand in front of the face, etc.

Thursday, July 26, 2001, 6:21 am—Last night, I finished up the square for Mara. I think it looks fine. The picture of her looks pretty good and I was able to use the light board to trace some lettering onto the cloth. I was afraid about that because you can't just draw and erase on cloth like you can on paper, so this worked out well.

 

Another jump forward. I feel like this might have been the first time we saw Mara's house when she and the boys moved in, here in Portland.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007, 2:41 PM—And then the evening was Stephen, Frank and me with Mara and the family at her house, a tour of her house and pizza, then Stephen home and Frank and I went off with them to the zoo for Zoo Lights. Asher and Boston were bouncing off the walls and it was so much fun. Rainy and wet but lovely lights all around and a train ride.

Lastly, an account of the Zoom surprise birthday party Shena and the boys arranged for Mara in 2020.
Thursday, 6-25-20 8:25 PM—The lovely, funny chaos of the surprise birthday party for Mara. 

I logged on about five minutes till. A few people on already, not Shena. Kirsten (formerly) Butler, which was cool and she said, "Hey, Gigi, do you remember me?" Let's see, the group ended up being Shena, Stephen and me, Peg, Boo, various Woodruffs I mostly know by name, Adam, Kirsten, Dave Lambert (who at first couldn't make his sound work and almost gave up), Michael, Heather, Molly and Ryan Silbernagel, and the boys, sometimes on their own devices and sometimes in the room with Mara. 

At first Mara was on a work call and Asher was doing all this reconnaissance, trying to get Mara off of work and on with us without giving away the secret. When she finally logged in and started to see people she burst into tears. She didn't have it on gallery view, so she kept discovering people one by one, which was cute, and calling out names and sometimes crying again. It was mostly total chaos and Stephen downstairs and I upstairs just sat and took it in. She kept saying funny things and making oopsy faces at the screen, which was cute. We sang the lamest, most halting, most flying-apart-at-the-seams Happy Birthday song ever. 

But she loved it and felt very loved. It was three thirty in the morning in Barcelona. Shena had big, white bulb lights running in an inverted V over her head. Heather made jokey comments about how dare Kirsten be so hot. When I said I thought David didn't have audio or whatever the ability to talk is, Mara made a joke about, oh good, David should shut up, and then Peg said that David had been the one who delivered the flowers and the cake. Shena was told that as leader of the meeting, she could mute people at will and there was joking about someone having his TV on. Someone had a gorgeous set of windchimes ringing here and there in the background. We were all on in the chaos for about an hour and it was sweet and funny. It was a nice, big group.

In the bathroom with Barbra Streisand

 I've been looking through my old kid diaries trying to find passages about my aunt Kathy to share. But I came across this, which seemed appropriate for Barbra Streisand's 80th birthday. Kathy features a little, but mostly this is my cousin Heather and me and our brush with Streisand.

From my diary, with all spelling and punctuation errors intact. June 7, 1984.

*

Well, last night was the N.O.W dinner with Barbara Streisand. First, mom & I rode down to Heather's house with our clothes and everything. We got dressed & made our selves beautiful. (I went & got a dress at the mall with mom) at Heather's. A long, blue limosine picked us up and we started for the place. There were 4 seats in the back, 2 facing each other and the other 2 facing each other. We drank virgin Marys from the limo while Mom & Kathy drank champagne. It was raining. People would watch to see if we were anybody famous. We walked in after leaving instructions with our shofer (however the hell you spell it), Rob. The place was packed. I had a ginger ale & we found our seats. Dinner wasn't very great. We had dry chicken breasts with the bones still inside and some rice. Heather & I got served white wine with it. Then Heather & I decided to walk to the bathroom. In the bathroom, Heather was waiting on a stall and out came Barbara Streisand. I brushed her arm slightly as she rushed past & Heather sat on the same toilet.  

in honor of father's day: a couple old diary entries about my dad

In honor of Father's Day, I thought I'd look back into some of my early diaries and pull out some passages about him, like I sometimes do. But I think I've used up all the fun material I have in my kid diaries about him so I thought I'd look through a few from when I was an adult, and I found two passages to share. The first, from 2012, was about a phone conversation he and I had when I was writing an ebook about how to be an accountant. One of the things I had to do in writing the book was interview three different accountants and edit the interviews to have them tell their story in their own words. I can't remember whether Dad didn't want to be one of those profiles or if I chose not to use him because we have the same last name and that would look like cheating (probably the latter) but I called him to get a good rundown on the subject.

The second entry, from 2007, was from when Dad and I discovered the computer game Second Life. Actually, I misspoke in the entry and called it New Life. If you don't know what it is... well, I think I explain it well enough in the entry, actually, that I'm must going to shut up and let my thirty-eight-year-old self do the work.

~

July 24, 2012

I forget what day it was, but I had a long conversation with Dad, like an hour, about accounting. He explained so much and make things actually kind of clear to me—his way of explaining was so good, and I wished I could have interviewed him. Because he was that good—he explained it so well but also made it interesting, was voicy about it. Was kind of the perfect combination. He called himself a one-stop-comptroller… or something. A quote I actually pulled and used in my intro. The way things morph and change, who knows if all the work I did on the book so far will even stay, but it felt good at the time, finding an intro out of the blue, after talking to Dad. And just a nice time talking to Dad.

October 9, 2007

So I couldn't call Dad on Saturday but we had a long conversation. So nice. I keep thinking about how little I see him. Well, he's got this game he's playing right now, on computer, called New Life. Where a world is created and you get to be a character and go around in this world. Well, it seems there are over 9 million people in the Linden world. And Dad's one of them. And now I am and now Stephen is. 

 
It's too cool. A lot of fun and interesting but also, and for me mostly, it's this way to hang out with my dad and it's almost like being with him. The first morning I was on Orientation Island and just walking around but then Dad friended me and sent me a teleport to the house he's building and all of the sudden I was "there" with him. He was all gray at first. Took a while to fill in. But then we were talking. And for me, instant messaging is pretty foreign, so this was a big step up from email. And talking back and forth about this thing he's interested in, and he was showing me his windows and how he'd made the texture in Paint Shop Pro. 

We wanted to find out if my body would just sit there in suspended animation when I logged off, so Dad logged off and then came back. He's Lundon Little. I don't know how he got Little for a last name and there was no Little in the list when I chose. I chose Willikers Littlething. Willikers for the old nickname he had for me and still sometimes uses.

My brown-haired purple shirted character stood there and waited for him and when he returned he seemed to sort of leap into existence, and at first he was gray and at first he had a woman's body and these prominent boobs. Then it morphed into the character of Lundon Little and the color came in. I told him about the boobs. He said, what, I had boobs? And I laughed. You click one thing and the character puts her hands on her belly and throws her head back and laughs. You hear it. That was so funny again I had to say something about it like, "Oh my god, that is so funny!" And then Lundon Little laughed. Hands on the belly and head thrown back and laughing. The two of us laughing in real life and laughing in cyberspace, sharing a laugh together.

On the occasion of her fiftieth birthday, some passages about my cousin Heather in my old kid diaries, with the spelling and punctuation errors intact

[When I talk about "towns," it's a game we used to play where we each had a tiny town made up of tiny toys. When I talk about the McLittle Theatre, that was what we kids called ourselves when we performed plays and made the grown-ups watch.]

1978

May 13—today I went to Magic Mtn. I went on the revalusion. We saw a lady and a man fighting seamed like killing. Heather came too and Shena, Mara, Edina. Heather's birthday party.

1979

August 28—Dear Mandy, I went to the beach with Heather, Edina, Ryan and Tom. I cought 5 sand crabs. Heather caught 55.

1981

April 14—I am at Heather's house. I went to Swensons with her then to rolar rink. We spyed on people and we played shoot the duck. My spy person was in back of me. Heather spyed people. first one went off. Heather spyed the other. She went off. They were sisters or they liked each other.

May 24—Heather came over and we had a party. We played towns and our town adopted 2 kids Kitty cats had a baby.

June 25—Today's Mara's Birthday. I invited her to my party so she invited me to hers. Heather's at our house. She and I are making a book. it's really good. Maybe we'll get it published. Wish us good luck. 

December 28—Heather is here. We found out that our favorite Beatle Paul McCartney's 1st name is James.

1982

August 5—I went to "Marie Calenders" restraunt. I had stew & boysinberry pie mmm! My town is having a musical. I love most of my songs & most of the play..it's called "Best of Friends." The "Twilight Zone" today was good, about a dead man going to heaven. "Heather's town" is doing a musical too "not just another Monday" A song in my musical is Johnathan and its so pretty.

August 10—I saw "E.T." for my 3rd time. I laughed and cried so much. We (Heather & I) are writing letters to Henry Thomas, Stephen Spielburg, Drew Barrymore and other people in "E.T." I sure hope-wish-that we get letters or autographed pictures of them.

November 2—Morning: I remembered how Heather was singing "Johnathan" & "Remember Me" in school & her friend liked it so much that she asked for the words & always sings it. I'll try it at school. Night: I did my gene's report. I put words to some tunes I have. "Why can't there ever be a way," "Fortune & fame" & "What about me?" I made up a new story of how Gayle, Kristin, Tanya & I start a singing group.

December 30—Heather & I made contracts & screen tests for Edina & Frankie for McLittle theatre. We made a logo. We want to get buisness cards made. We're going to pay employees. 

1983

January 15—I saw "Time Bandits" a movie about a little boy who goes back in time. I loved it! We thought of a whole new plot (play) "ERA" (When women take over the earth & Heather & I (men) take a space shuttle & hit a time warp.)

January 21—...Heather & I went downstairs (Almost 12:00) to make a special drink for the McLittle Theatre's party. Dad came down & Heather saw his Head Around the door & screamed. I turned & saw Him & screamed. Our drink is milk vanilla extract & sugar.

March 1—My life is like a musical. A long time ago I sang a circus song. Frankie & his friend were making a circus for Heather & I to see. I got up and started singing about what you need for a circus. Heather joined in on a 2nd verse and we sang just like a musical. I loved it. I've sang about what to do (A song called "What shall we do today", I've sang about when Mom wouldn't understand me (A song called "What do you mean by that) etc. I always just sing. My life is a musical.

May 29—We swam in the lake again. Today I lost one of my ear plugs in the water. Heather & Frankie made up a "Star Wars" presentation & after it we came home. Tonight, Mara & Heather spent the night. We swam in the pool. We watched part of "The Blue & the Grey", I turned it off & I went to sleap.

1984

April 22, 84. Heather came over Sat. She had a great time. We watched 'Carrie' and then at night, we closed the window shades, turned off the lights, and watched 'The Shining'. That was such a scary movie that today mom told us she was lying in bed in her room listening to us scream. Heather & I clung together for dear life and dear sanity. It was maybe the scariest movie I have ever seen.

(June 7) Well, last night was the N.O.W dinner with Barbara Streisand. First, mom & I rode down to Heather's house with our clothes and everything. We got dressed & made our selves beautiful. (I went & got a dress at the mall with mom) at Heather's. A long, blue limosine picked us up and we started for the place. There were 4 seats in the back, 2 facing each other and the other 2 facing each other. We drank virgin Marys from the limo while Mom & Kathy drank champagne. It was raining. People would watch to see if we were anybody famous. We walked in after leaving instructions with our shofer (however the hell you spell it), Rob. The place was packed. I had a ginger ale & we found our seats. Dinner wasn't very great. We had dry chicken breasts with the bones still inside and some rice. Heather & I got served white wine with it. Then Heather & I decided to walk to the bathroom. In the bathroom, Heather was waiting on a stall and out came Barbara Streisand. I brushed her arm slightly as she rushed past & Heather sat on the same toilet. 

 
(Oct 7 8:53 (AM) ...After I finished clearing the table, Kathy, Mike, and Dad began to talk about something and Mom, Heather, and I began to talk about ourselves. Mom said I was intelligent, friendly, introverted, thoughtful, and that I don't exactly know who I am yet. She said Heather was intelligent, nice, and shy in that she hides her shyness behind Paula Pokrifki and Jane Barnhart and all the other names she uses. Everything Mom said was true.

Dec 8 9:10 AM. Right now, I'm over at Heather's lake house. We all went to Louise's last night (except Edina who was too sick) and Heather and I sat a little two-table. I was telling her all about Tricia and about my meditating and my self hypnosis. She told me that once, a long time ago, she was trying to telekinetically move a cup (as I always do) and she thinks she jiggled it! I like being able to talk to her about this kind of thing. Because, I can't talk to Tricia about it because it's more of a game to her (Tricia).

I have to write, now, about one of the things Heather and I discussed. The only E.S.P. I happen to possess is shared with Heather. When I was writing my first version of Toybox, Heather was writing another book of the same plot. Toybox is about some people who find out about the world going to be destroyed and they build a shelter under ground and wait the war out. Heather, without knowing anything about my book, started writing the same sort of story except her people hid out in a space ship. That is #1! I hadn't told her about it all! Next, I was writing Armistice and there was a character called Shark who was really mean and called people names like ''flea's snot'. Heather, at the same time, was writing Chapter 1 in which there was a sleazy character who was in the story for about the same amount of time and who spoke the same way. Thirdly, When I wrote my rat story, Heather was writing one and the main character happened to be named Cissy and one character in my rat story was named Sissy (same name, different spelling) but that's not all! Cissy went to work in a soda shop owned by a man named Mr. O.Reily who was an irish man, described almost exactly like a man in my rat book named Mr. O'Malley. Mr. O'Malley owned a restaurant called (I think) O'Malleys where the star, (Loraine) of the rat story worked. Also working there was Sissy, Mr. O'Malley's daughter.---

two posts from my old diaries in honor of leap day

I was hoping to find a few quick entries in my old kid dairies to celebrate the advent of Leap Day. I've kept a diary since 1978, all handwritten until I don't know when, when I finally started typing them out on computer. At some point in time I decided to type, word for word, all of my early diaries into the computer for safekeeping. With my memory sucking as much as it does, my diaries have been a prized possession, even though most of their pages are about me being a dork, but I'm lazy so basically when I want to share something about those early (and late) dork days, I just pull up the computerized versions. Unfortunately I didn't write on many Leap Days in those early years, but here's what I do have.

Note for the 2004 entry: I was the spotlight operator for a circus and also anxiously awaiting news of the birth of my sister's second child.

1984

It is now Feb 29th, the day of leap year. I got an A on a World Cultures test today. Last night, Mom, Dad, and I gathered around the television set to watch (& tape) the grammy awards. Michael Jackson won 8! I added, today, to my scrap book, a picture of him from the Register. P.S. Shena fell and broke her arm badly. She was operated upon today.

2004

Sunday, February 29, 2004, 8:04 AM—There is always something somewhat significant to me about the day of the leap year. Which, I suppose, is nothing more than a good example of how absence causes intrigue. There’s nothing important about a leap year day—in all, there simply is nothing about a leap year day. It’s a non-thing, really, in the elusive mass of reality. But because we’ve designated it something, and caused that something to come only once every four years, I note with interest every time it comes around again. And I’d love for Zoë to be born today. A leap year day baby is luckier than a left-handed baby, in terms of uniqueness. Luckier than a red-headed baby. As a child, I think she’d really appreciate it.

So, I’m sitting in the third show on the headset with the ring one par cans off, spots on amber, waiting to cue them to return to white, when suddenly the flaming hoop in the big cage is pitching forward, trailing fire, and going down. One of the cats has knocked the thing, and as it goes over, a tiger is leaping through it, and it comes down right on her. Instinctively I hit the ring lights again, to make sure there’s enough light for Juergen and Judit to see what’s going on. My stagehands are making exclamations in my ears. Maybe I am, too. I see Juergen lurch forward for the staff of the flaming hoop… Judit batting at her hair… the tiger jumping down and around toward the entrance to the shifting cages with smoke coming up from her… another tiger or two leaping around in the cage. A scattering of workers in black shirts converge around the outside of the tiger arena. Juergen gets the hoop uprighted and he and Judit spread out to calm the tigers.

In the funny combination of right light white and spotlight amber, Juergen and Judit very patiently calm the tigers and then coax the poor, surprised cat to make the leap through the hoop. And back to her seat, where Juergen awards her twice with a chunk of meat. With order restored, I see that the routine is going to continue, and I go ahead and switch the ring lights back off. And the show continues from there.

Monday, March 01, 2004, 1:38 PM. On the road to Indy.—Got online this morning to check messages. I let out a little gasp when it finally clicked in. Tim called, “What?” from somewhere behind me, and I tried to get the pictures to load in and finally said, “A Leap Year baby!”

On the occasion of her fiftieth birthday, some passages about my friend Shena in my old kid diaries, with the spelling and punctuation errors intact

1978

January 27—I sang on a tape. I got to keep my tape. We got or had to find the write batteries for it.

January 30—I almost didn't get lunch. But I did. Shena got to talk on the tape with me.

February 7—I went to Shena's house and I got to speek to the women that plays the Bionic women on the phone.

1979

March 8—I went to the roler rink it was flooded. I went with Shena.

May 5—Shena And I found a meeting place; hidaway 1 and 2. At the camp. Went to Sea World.

May 13—today I went to Magic Mtn. I went on the revalusion. We saw a lady and a man fighting seamed like killing. Heather came too and Shena, Mara, Edina. Heather's birthday party.

May 17—I went to a piano odition then out to lunch then to a supermarket. i was in the Toy area with Shena and a cloun jumped out and scared me.

1980

May 9—It's Heather's birthday. We're going camping. Shena and I went back to highway 1 & 2. I got a rock from h. 1. Tomorrow we'll go to Sea World.

May 10—We didn't go to Sea World. it rained. We saw a movie Kramer Vs. Kramer. I went to Farrels. I got to be in a comercial for Campland. I got an autograph of Gayle Sue and Keven. Shena lead us back. I saved Tom from getting hit by a car. (God did). Gayle and Keven sang happy birthday to Heather.

May 11—Today I got in another comercial. I was a background. We made a mound of sand for friendly the wolf to sit on. Shena, Heather, Tom, Edina, Mara, Ryan and I walked in the background while friendly the wolf talked. We went home. I watched video taped movies.

1981

September 20—We slept at Shena's house. I went to "couch" at 1:30.

1982

June 20—I got 2 new coins from Isriel, from Shena for my collection.

September 17—Shena is over we're making a nativity scene. Shena once had a dream (after her grandma died) that she went up to heaven & saw her. She said goodbye right before she woke up. Today Shena turned off the T.V. & it turned on again. I heard far away piano for an instant before going to bed. I kept seeing teath and spirits in my head.

October 16—We played our soap opera. You see, about a weak ago we made a soap opera. I'm Lisa Van Jua, a snob. Mara's my sister Andrea. Heather's Stephany Shore. Edina's her 16 year old sister Kathy Morgan. Shena is Jackie Benit. Frankie is Christopher Shena's son & Heather's adopted son. I'm a modle. It's a lot of fun!

December 7—The McLittle Theatre is going to do "Best of Friends" in Feb. when noni & Coco come out. I'm Jenni. Frankie's Jonathan, Heather's Susan Evans, Edina's Dad, Shena's Mom & Mara's Mary. & I just can't wait! It was soooo! windy at night!!!!

December 8—We're not doing Best of Friends.

1983

January 11—I finished "the talking skull." I watched the 2nd part of "Nicolas Nickelby" I got Shena a crystol & 3 prints (pastel) for her birthday tomorrow. I also got a crystol & a print & a copy of "Young Miss" (magazine) which I'll be getting soon. I got an autographed picture of Sally Struthers. (with my name on it.)

February 6—We figured out the whole play & finished posters (I did bar scene) & now we most likely have to wait till next year to do it 'cause we only have 2 more weekends & we're going to the lake house & we'll need Shena & Mara to learn they're lines. I saw part of "Winds of War."

February 20—We went to a mission. Then we ate breakfast out. Then we went home. Noni had a big get-together, the Butlers came. I was so mad. Shena and Mara were acting all hot. I got to Special on Lady bug again. We had sundaes.

May 14—Shena came over. After I finnished cleaning my room, we went to her house. I spent the night there. I saw "An officer & a gentleman" twice off of their rented video tape. Shena & I talked over 'old times'

May 15—We (Shena & I) had 2 doughnuts each when we came to my house to get some Atari cartages to play at Shena's house. I went with Shena & Peg shopping for a shirt for Shena to wear to model some homemade pants in a fashion show. 

June 18—Shena & Heather spent the night. We ate the table & talked about the end.

June 30—We sleaped at Shena's and saw "Best Little Whorehouse in Texas".

new year's eves and new years days from my old kid diaries

December 31, 1979

Frank and Mom found a stray puppy and brought it home a month or something aft Gertrude died.  But we aren't going to keep the stray.  I call her Shoepolish.

January 1, 1981

I named my diary Mandy. Anne Frank named hers too.

January 1, 1982
Dear Amanda, the year of 1982 has just hit. Happy New Year!

December 31, 1982
Good Buy, 1982!!

January 1, 1983
It is now 1983. Happy New Year! I resolve to be a nicer, more outward person. I am a shyish person, but I resolve to become less shy. We had a party at my cousin Heather's lake house. It was my family, Heather's & the Macys. We took a boat ride & had a foot ball pool. Frankie & Ev Macy won!!! When we went to the dock there was slush on the ground!!!! (This is California!) "so what???" I prayed for snow & in a way I got it!

December 31, 1983

It is New Years eve. We are at Heather's lake house in front of the big screen T.V. This weekend, starting Thursday, We & Lizehte & the Macy's (Ryan & Tom) went to the lake house with Heather, went to a Swap meet (bought Navy hats which we are wearing now) & hiked in the hills, playing "An Officer & A Gentleman". I don't know weather to be happy or sad. I know I should be happy on New years eve. And I am going out of this year but I'm also going into another. I know there will be more lonliness and hard schoolwork. But this past year hasn't been that bad. Oh! Now here comes the ball dropping into 1984. 10 seconds! 9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1…

As I look over my past year, I see many different times and emotions. I don't think there is an emotion that I haven't felt. I've felt angry, afraid, surprised, excited, and most of all, happy and sad. Many different things have happened to me. I got the lead in my 8th grade play. I started high school. I lost a friend. I tryed to start new friendships. I had an operation. I attended my grandfather's wedding to Jen, my new grandmother. I made many goals, some of which I dumped on the 2nd day. I continued with writing books all through the year, my books being "Marna Terrace", "Misty Terrace", "Toybox", "Armistice", and "Cloth Rose", a book started but not finished.

Even though my likes changed throughout the year, different musics, different book plots, I am still the same person now, that I was when the ball first struck 1983, last year. I really wish that I could change and be the person who I am inside and not just who comes out.

The person who comes out is small and quiet. The person inside is quite different but I can't seem to figure out exactly who she is. I am a totaly different person to every one I talk to. I don't know who exactly I am.

After Christopher's death, I began to realize that we have but one lifetime and so many things we want to do and expiriance; so many people we want to be; so many profesions we want to hold. We have to figure out what we want. We each must begin expiriancing now. We mustn't throw our whole life away. We must do and remember.

Possibly someday I will do everything I've wanted to do. Maybe someday my life will brighten. But now, I must learn to cope well with what problems I have now and possibly, somewhere in the future, my life will be different.

But for now, I think, despite the hardships in life, I think I'll continue living. 

December 31, 1984

Well, it's, once again, New Years Eve. On the stroke of midnight, It will become 1985, a new year to laugh and cry in, to survive in. A new year to work through. A new year of new books, new interrests, same old thing. 

Well, I have lived through 1984 and have not seen hide nor head of Big Brother. Perhapse, we'll not even reach George Orwell's 1984. Maybe we'll reach armageddin first. Anyway, I'm glad we haven't reached it, at least yet.

ah, the christmases of my youth

December 1, 1978
Edina opened a door on the Christmas Calander. It was a star of Bethlaham. I wrote a song called Christmas is near today. I saw R2D2 and C3PO the robots from Star Wars talking in Spanish on a TV show.

December 14, 1981
I'm taking guitar at school and I'm going to play for the Christmas Program. I am nervous. I also hope I can get to be a better person in school maybe It will help.

December 25, 1981
Merry Christmas! I got a Piano thing and other things. I got 3 blank tapes. I taped 2 whole tapes of Beatles. I'm saveing up for a tape recorder.

December 18, 1983
Steven Spielberg's birthday. I went to Papaw's new house. They have a big tree in the dining room but he worries me. He doesn't like Christmas anymore. He said "Christmas is for Children."

December 25, 1983

Merry Christmas. I got a tape recorder & 2 tapes & 2 blank tapes. I got a sign book, records, calligraphy set, & a whole bunch of other things. We got Coleaco vission. I got a higher score than the winners of the astrosmash shootout. 

12/25/84 7:11 P.M. Christmas this year, we had the presents on Christmas eve because Lanaux and Carter had to leave this morning. I received a huge movie poster of Trading Places and a smaller of The Big Chill and a movie card from Trading Places (all real). I got 2 outfits from Contempo - one was a pink leopard-skin print dress and stockingy black stretchy pants and a black feather boa. After opening all of our presents, we children slept over at our lake house (where we opened our presents). Then, this morning, we headed over to the McFerrin lake house for Santa stuff. I got 2 posters - Prince and Bruce Springsteen. I got a bunch of clothes - one being a silver, sparkley shirt. I received a little beggar dog, like the one I gave to Kathy and Mike. This is the cutest stuffed dog ever. I got 2 books on reincarnation, 1 on body-building, one on writting, and one on sign-language. We went out and played fort in the hills. Shena and Mara came by and we took a boat ride with Coco in which we sang songs and saved someone's volleyball.

On his one-hundredth birthday: early diary entries about my grandfather Coco with spelling errors intact and modern explanations in blue

1982

August 13—Tomorrow we're going to Virginia. I'm bringing my ET book & story book, diary, Yes & Know book, Garfield book, solitare, paper & pen, Geraldene & Josephene, & bath room things. When I come back I'll write out my movie. I'll work on it at noni & coco's house. I can't wait to get there. I can't wait to see the new rooms! The movie was the script for the sequel to E.T., which I planned to write and then send to Steven Spielberg - and also eventually star in.

August 14—We are at Noni & Coco's house. Edina skis better than any one exept Freddy. Aunt Sally, Uncle Alex & Nana was here. We sang and played piano before going to bed. It was so much fun!

August 16—I got up on the slalom for the 1st time this year.  I did it on my 4th try, Coco honked the horn.  Mom skied 1st time this year they honked the horn for her too.  I didn't stay up.

August 17—I slalomed again but I fell again.  Mom is learning to slalom.  We sank the rowboat.  Frankie had a life jacket on & he got caught under the tipped over rowboat.  Coco saved him.  We went over to Jeff White's house we had a bad time.  They turned off the lights then threw pillows.

August 25—We took a moon light cruse. I learned that the big dipper's last 2 stars point to Polaris, a star. It points to the north Pole. Coco played "the sting" tape in the car to the market my favorite song is Solice & Easy Winners. The moonlight cruise was us going out on Coco's float boat in the evening. Coco was the one who gave me the little astronomy lesson.

August 28—We slept on the boat. I saw a beaver. I saw a shooting star. On it I wished for Stephen Spiellberg to use my movie.

August 31—We went to Baltimore. I went to a giant aquarium & saw a big ship & went to Fort McHenry. I bought 2 pins. 1 was I [heart] Baltimore & 1 was I [heart] E.T. I got E.T. shoelaces & an E.T. keychain. Speaking of E.T. Henry Thomas' middle name is John.

September 2—I slalomed 2wice. I didn't fall! There was a full-full moon. The big Cok took us out to walk around the circle in the midnight. I thought of a new scene for my movie, a dinner table scene. Coco called himself The Big Coke. Sometimes he called himself The Old Coke.

September 3—Tonight was another full moon. We took a long moon light cruse. We saw the Harvest moon. It was yellow. Afterwards we ate Ice Cream & Noni's homemade chocolate syrup & watched "Dallas" The Harvest moon inspired me a song so I'm writing a harvest moon song. The main tune was already made up by me but the rest of the tune & the words (lyrics in professional talk) are for the harvest moon. It's named "Stay, Harvest Moon."


1983

January 25—Noni & Coco came. Noni came to meet us at school. Coco gave me a book on Jacques Philippe Villeré. We did alot of geneology talk. He has a tree (geneology) that goes back to the 1300's!!! I'd sure like a copy of that for my collection of information.

January 26—Coco said he and I can make me a copy of the big geneology tree!

August 5-12—Heather, Edina & I went to Noni's & Coco's. I can slolam on 1 foot. We met 2 German girls (Heikka & Iris) & saw them again when we went to Washington D.C. I saw the Star Spangled Banner.

1984

It's been some time & now it's March 20th. Well, it's finaly come, the day to change PE games. Of course, 'they' said they were going to retake raquetball. We got in line. They switched & I am stuck in raquetball. I knew the time would come and it finally did. I have no partner & will not have one. I hate loneliness and I hate being a teenager. I hate having no friends and I hate this whole bloody mess. Oh well, does it really matter? I knew it would happen sometime. Noni and CoCo and Sassy & Elsa had one last dinner with us (at Shiki) & left for Virginia. Sassy and Elsa were Noni and Coco's dachshunds.

November 18, 1984. I guess this is my last entry in this journal. Noni and Coco, Sassy and Elsa arived yesterday. We took Coco out on a boat ride, rain spitting softly around us. It was a cold, grey day. We came back from the boat and built a warm, crackling fire. It was a good day. I'm to a great part in my book The Talisman. Jack and Wolf were caught by the police and brought to a home. Wolf has turned into a warewolf and is eating everyone.

12/25/84 7:11 P.M. Christmas this year, we had the presents on Christmas eve because Lanaux and Carter had to leave this morning. In here is a way-too-long segment in which I detail all the presents I got. We went out and played fort in the hills. Shena and Mara came by and we took a boat ride with Coco in which we sang songs and saved someone's volleyball. 

2/24/85 9:55. Saturday night, we had a birthday party for Coco. We kids had a chance to go to the Prince concert, but, we couldn’t, because of Coco’s birthday. Oh well, maybe some other time.
       Noni made some great orange cake. I was wearing my new Mickey Mouse shirt, my new grey socks, and fingerless gloves. I talk about my clothes for a while.
       Later on, we got together with Coco and picked oranges in the 'McFerrin orange groves.'

July 16. night. Virginia.
       Today!
       We awoke very early (4:30 for me) and showered and dressed and prepared to leave for the airport. We drove out in the van to the Disneyland hotel, whereupon ariving, we kissed Dad goodbye and borded a bus which took us to the airport. I had with me a suit case (which I have just discovered has no sweat-shirt in it—necessary for a sleap on the boat), a purse (virtually empty), and a carry-on bag filled with cassettes, my walkman, Salem’s Lot, my diary, my little poetry book, a pad of paper, any- and everything to keep me occupied during the flight. We ate a quick breakfast & borded.
       I sat down by a large black woman who was busy crocheting a small pink square (for a scarf, I found out later), and I immediately (I was so proud of myself) said ‘Hi’—the first step in meeting people—the acknowledgment. And, as the plane ride commenced and drew out 5 hours, I learned alot more about this woman. (2nd step—Conversation)
       Well, Virginia, Cross Junction, the Summit is just as green, and old fashioned & beautiful! It’s great to see Noni, Coco, & Nana, again. Along w/Sassy, Elsa, and Didgeridoo.
       We had a swim in the lake & played a small game of Troll. Had freshly baked (& I mean freshly—the berries were picked by Coco, the day before) blackberry pie—baked of course, by Noni. Troll was when we swam in the lake and Coco hid under the pontoons of the float boat and pretended to be a troll.
       Then, we went on a moonlight cruise (there was no moon, but that’s O.K.). There were so many stars it was spectacular. God, how I love the stars! I picked one out and, as usual, wished on it. Then, Noni & I saw a shooting star. I wished on that one, too, for the same thing as before.
       “I want to be a writer.” my mind screamed, “God Dammit, I want to be a writer!”

Friday July 19th. day.
       We’re all on the boat, heading for a place to fish. It’s been a couple of days. We’ve skied a lot—atleast twice a day. We’ve begun to teach Chandler to ski, and he’s gotten up many times; Hasn’t yet mastered the staying-up part, but he’s getting better. Chandler is my brother Frank.
       We’ve stopped, now, in a “finger” that Coco & Noni call THE LITTLE BEAVER FINGER. I’m not sure if Coco coined the name, or not, but the origin is that a small beaver house was built (by beavers, of course. Just incase you didn’t figure it out.) somewhere in this finger.
       It’s beautiful; so unlike Canyon Lake. There are foresty trees bordering it, and not a house, at all. They are mirrored in the glossy surface of the water, etched with sparks of sunlight which is reflected from the sky.
       We’re moving again, past the little beaver house, and up to the opening of the finger. Fish-lines are dropped, and voices, too, and Frankie has already caught the 1st fish.
       So, today, Coco, Edina, Frankie,, and I went out to pick blackberries. These berries will be used to make a blackberry pie for Dad for when he arrives. Aunt Sally & Uncle Alex will arrive on Monday; Lanaux and Carter will be comming up, too, during our stay.
       Every morning, after breakfast, Noni, Coco, Mom, Frankie & I (& Didge) take a walk to work off breakfast. Between that and the skiing, we all should get more in shape than get fat (I.E. Noni’s pies), and that’s good.
       We’re slowly drifting out into the middle of the opening of the Little Beaver Finger, and Edina has caught a fish. Elsa is sleaping under the table and Sassy is dozing on the seat behind me where Mom is fishing also.
       We’ve migrated (myself at the wheel) across the lake to what Coco coined (yes, he did the naming) THE BABY BEAVER COVE, and lines have once again been dropped.
       The next door neighbor to Noni and Coco is a nice German woman called Dam Klinger, who also speaks not a word of English. Well, she sent over a nice apricot cake which I think she baked herself, and today, Edina and I went next door to thank her, knowing only the German word for thankyou.
       So, there was alot of German speech and laughing from her, and some utterances of “Dankershan” (which I am sure I am misspelling) from us. She gave us some 7-up and strange apple danishes to eat, and took us around her house, showing us each item in it and babbling a-mile-a-minute in German, to which we just smiled and said, “uh-huh.” We were back up in the kitchen when we heard Coco’s whistle out in the front—he had come to rescue us. She was a sweet woman, but there was no way to communicate.
       Now, we’re back in our finger, drifting and fishing some more. I have done no fishing, because I have been writing so much.
       After dinner, Mom read to Noni, Nana, and Coco some of my journal-writes, and they laughed. Journal writes were creative writing assignments from school. Oh how happy it made me! She read the one about the Garden of Eden, and when she read the part about “Eve’s mother-in-law, whom they called Serpent”, both Coco and Noni burst out laughing. I mean, it just made me scarlet! I got a good pounding on the floor by Coco’s feet for that one.

July 20. day.
       Dinner, last night, was crabs and corn, which was great. Nummers, nummers, & after dinner, we dressed in warm clothes—I in jeans, a shirt, a sweat shirt, a small jacket, my red knit fingerless gloves, & shoes—and went down with our mattresses and blankets, to sleep on the boat.
       It was great. I was snuggled between Mom & Noni, all warm and cozy, looking up at the stars. The stars, the stars, the wonderful stars! Oh, how I love the stars!
       It was probably the last time we will be able to do that, because it’s not allowed back home. Boohoo! Noni and Coco were going to move from Virginia to California where we lived, so this was our last summer at Cross Junction.
       I love it here. So beautiful.
       I was watching the sun come up, this morning, a bright, yellow-orange, its color spraying down upon the water. And it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen. The big orange sun was just peaking through the clouds, shying away from the world, and then peaking out again, casting its glistening (ooh, what a nice word!) tail upon the green mirror lake. Beautiful.

Doing these little posts where I pull pieces from old diaries, I go through computer files where I've transcribed the diaries from books and notebooks. There's a large chunk of time where those books and notebooks haven't been transcribed. After 1995 nothing is transcribed until the year 2000 when I started doing all my journaling by computer. This last segment below is from the next computerized journal after the break  that mentions Coco...

Monday, January 15, 2001, 10:15 am—Oh God, I slept in. Stayed up until after 3 last night. So, Day three: 7:00-9:00, 10:30-2:00, finished up with the flesh tones on figure and mirror reflection figure for white page. 3:00-4:30, background including bear in mirror, little details. ...I write about painting for a while. I was working on my Magical Trunk children's book. A small press publisher was going to be publishing it and I was rushing to finish illustrations before we went on the road for the next circus season, I think. So, yesterday I painted for a total of 12 ½ hours. Now all I have to do on white page is the hair details and the white makeup on face. And snow to do later, I think. Sometime yesterday I was painting and happened to turn and look over my shoulder to the picture of Noni and Coco on the end table. I glance at it a lot, but yesterday I looked at him and my mind said, I'll never see him again, and without warning I was crying. Seemed like my eyes teared up even before I felt the emotion of it. Strange not to be able to see someone ever again.

From my kid diaries: a recording of the first short story I ever submitted - with the spelling errors intact and my commentary in blue

The one change I made to the entry is to put the story itself in italics rather than all the quotation marks I have in my diary, because it gets a little confusing.

*

We got 2 Hitchcock magazines in the mail and I turned imediately to the “Mysterious Photograph.” It is a sort-of contest they have every month. They put a picture in the magazine. You take that picture and write a story (250 wds or less) about the picture. The winner gets $25 and the story apears in the next Hitchcock magazine.

Well, it was a picture of 4 people on a rocky island. One is fishing.

I took the magazine to the computer room, wrote up a story, and set it with the magazine in Mom’s room, where she was napping.

I wrote:

“Cast it over there, Starkey." I instructed, pointing to the left of the tip of a rock that jutted out of the water, "It’s in a little box."

I sat upon the rocks. The island was in the middle of a large bay, and it consisted soley of rocks and boulders. Starkey stood above me with a fishing poll, carefully casting and recasting the hook into the water; I sat below him, shouting directions; Manfred and Buffalo paced behind us.

Starkey lowered the hook, and it sank into the water, once again, with a quiet "ker-plop."

He dragged it around for a minute and then brought it out again, bare.

“I can’t Whitey." Starkey groaned. (He always told me that he called me Whitey because of my perfectly straight, white set of choppers.)

Sure, stealing all those jewels was simple, but when Manfred rowed us to the little island in his little rowboat, we lost the box over the side as we docked. Now, I could not leave until we found that box. Our Pal, Nicky, would be here to pick us up and take us down to Mexico tonight; I had to find that box before then.

“You have to." I retorted, "We’re not leaving until you do."

God knows, I couldn’t leave without my toothbrush.

Mom loved it. I was so glad. As soon as I revise it as much as I can, and give it a title, I’m going to send it to the magazine.

*

I like how I was so proud and sure of this story that I printed it out and took it into my mom's room while she was sleeping. I'm sure she proofread it and made me change all the spelling errors before I sent it out. I honestly don't remember what kind of a response, if any, I got from Hitchcock Magazine. 

On her birthday, early journal entries about my mom with the spelling errors intact and my commentary in blue

1978

January 14—I woke up. I ate breakfast. got the mail. It said: it is a chain letter. Mom helped me do what it said. We checked my rocks and put them in a thing with silver stuff and prackticed magic. Then watched T. V. This might be my first diary entry ever. 

1979

May 6—I went to the beach and home. Showed Mom Jackie Weaples. I think this was a game I made up that was like jacks but using weaples. Do you remember weaples? They were pompoms with eyes and feet.

1980

May 1—I did a tape some time ago of me singing Tomorrow.  Today I listened and Mom did too.  She said it sounded like me.  I listened.  I sound like Annie—a 10 year old singing star who is in a play!

1981

May 27—Jamie Reding got her period.  I'm jealous.  Mom says she'll get me some things just incase I do.  She might get me a bra soon too!

June 1—Dear Diary, I'm getting more and more anxious to grow up. Mom says that I'm growing faster every day I sure hope that I can change my personality.

July 6—I predicted a song on the radio. I got to bring food to customers at Mom's resturant the Friench Pantry.

1982

May 16—I got a Panda Plant. Mom got me an entry blank for the astrosmash shoot off. Astosmash was a video game I was very good at. 

August 16—I got up on the slalom for the 1st time this year. I did it on my 4th try, Coco honked the horn. Mom skied 1st time this year they honked the horn for her too. 

October 31—Halloween. Lucy (Mom's) birthday. I came home. We finished sound effects. I taped over something on one side and both taped what I taped & what I taped over. We decorated. We bobed for apples. We didn't make pop corn balls. We split up the E.T. cards (treats) Today marked an evolution in Halloween as we know it. Almost no one trick or treated. I think the sound effects were something having to do with decorating the house for Halloween, like we kids taped ourselves making ghost sounds or something.

1983

March 7—After school I had a long talk with Mom about life. I got special on "Ladybug". (Another video game.) We got a new girl in our class (Shelby). Gayle called her a slut! (I don't think she likes her)

March 19-—Mom got mad at us for not being responsible. We cleaned the house & made a card (a leaf) saying "We're turning over a new leaf" & put it out with flowers.

April 21—I was so mad. Gayle & Julie & her group were making fun of me. I got mad & I should get mad. Gayle gets mad because I'm mad because of what she says & does. I told mom & she showed me a form of self-hypnosis! She says we have different parts of our personalities. She said give your strong, brave, happy part a name. She had "Susan" & I chose "Jenni". You imagine the sad or mad or shy part (with a name or without) knocking on a door & don't let them in. Say and see the name of your best part (Jenni) over & over in your mind. Make the other names disappear or go back in your head, lay or sit with your legs not touching & hands not touching. When Mom was trying it at home for the 1st time, Frankie who was 3 yrs. old at the time came in and said "Who's that woman? Who's the woman knocking at the door? Don't let her in!" he closed all of moms doors & shutters & looked at mom & said "But it's you Mommy, the woman is you."

P.S. My tooth came out. 

1984

It's April 1, April Fools day. I had an enormous weekend. Thats all I could say for it—enormous. I'll start with Friday. Well, Mom finaly sold the French Pantry. Its no longer ours—now its 'MJC's salad & wine bar.' We had a party for the old restaurant. All (well most) of the people who ever worked there, came and had a great time. Colleen brought Sean over & I took most of the night babysitting him.

9/14/84 (5:52 AM) I woke up at 5:47 as always but as I passed Mom & Dads room, they were not still asleap in it. Their beds were made, the room was clean, and they weren't in it. So, I started down stairs. Something's happened, I told myself with dread, someone died. Because, why would they be up like this? They usually get up at 6:10. I found dad in the computer room. Mom isn't at home. When I asked what happened, he informed me that Mom has gone to the hospital with Carmen who's going to have her baby.

1985

3-25-85 9:16 PM

....What makes a person, I think, is not looks or talent or brains, but morals and personality. After all, when the body is gone, the real you still lives on. And that is your soul—you.

I have been described as “nice” by many people. But, what am I really like—the real me—? I guess I have many different personalities. To different people, I am different. I’m still a kid. Heck, no matter how old I get, I will still not understand myself fully.

I have been known to be grumpy, at times, but I don’t think I am any more grumpy than anyone else. If anything, I have been known to be a cheerful person. Tonya was surprised when I got flared up about Tricia saying my clothes are weird, always. She said it was the first time she had seen me angry. I think many people this year don’t picture me getting upset. Some of that is because I am so much happier with life this year than I was last year.

Mom always acuses me of being pessimistic. And, that is probably true. If something good could happen, I say it won’t. And part of that is because of my pride, which is alittle too high. If it doesn’t happen, I don’t want to have thought that it would. I’m working on that.

But, basically, I think I’m a pretty mature person. Sure, I have my faults, as does everybody (does Julian Lennon?) but I’m working on all of them.

April 7

I went down stairs, got out a couple of disks, switched on the computer, and made a couple changes on the old man story. I still have to give this story a name. I want the name to be as equally symbolic as the story. I thought of using the idea of the falling star in the title, because the stars shooting across the sky are a very big part of the symbolism in the story. But, every ‘star’ry title I come up with sounded wrong because the word star also means a celebrity, and if I named it something like “Fallen Star” or “When a star falls”, it also sounds like a fall of a great celebrity, which my old man was not.

I printed out a copy of it, when I finished revising, and gave it, once again, to Mom for proofreading. She said it was better, but there are still brown spots in the banana. I am begining to wonder if I will ever finish this story. Oh, but, I am so glad she is doing all this reading and telling me what she thinks is wrong with it. God, I am grateful to her for doing this. I mean, it must get boring once and a while. Now and then, she must look at that story and think to herself, oh, God, not again. So much credit goes to her for telling me what to change. I think, if I could dedicate a short-story to someone, I’d write in the dedication space for this one:

To my mother, Lucy Little, who’s practically done half of the work.

Saturday, 4/13/85 Morning.

....which reminds me of the conversation we had while eating blueberries this morning. Mom kept talking about me being such a good person, for a teenager. It may have embarrassed me when she said it, but I sure hope it’s true, and not just mother-talk.

On his birthday, early journal entries about my dad with the spelling errors intact and my commentary in blue

1979

May 16—I got the new hamster today he has funny ears. My Dad gave me the idea to name him Bunny. He had long ears. The hamster, not my dad.

1982

September 5—By the way I am 5'1 brown hair brown eyes, slim built like my dad, and I look like a hardymon. Hardymons were my dad's mom's side of the family.

October 6—I was home from school sick.  I taped my music.  We had a birthday party for Dad.  We did a skit.  No one liked it.  I went to piano lessons.

1983

January 21—Heather & I went downstairs (Almost 12:00) to make a special drink for the McLittle Theatre's party. Dad came down & Heather saw his Head Around the door & screamed. I turned & saw Him & screamed. Our drink is milk vanilla extract & sugar.

March 20—We made mom & dad lunch while they were out. We made Salad, Hours durves, & an Entrée (crab & chease in French Bread). Heather went home. I saw "News Break," a fiction T.V. movie about an explosion. It was neat.

April 7—I'm also running against Julie F. for Hattie Bates (play) I'll tell you if I ever get to do tryouts. I was trying out for the lead in the class play even though I was the shyest kid in class. I went to Mrs. Lindstroms for a workshop but she wasn't home. The 2nd draft papers are due tomorrow. Dad typed my whole paper out for me on his computer! I wrote it & he copied it. I have the best dad in the world!

April 8—We had try-outs. (Class play stuff again) I got in the top 3, Julie, Audra & me to try out again next week. Mr. A said I did excellent! and everyone commented me. When I "interrupted Clapper" like dad said, Mr. A gave me the "O.K." sign

(The fact that Dad coached me - and particularly the suggestion that I interrupt the "Clapper" character, was why I ended up getting the part.)

1984

Well, it was Friday the 13th, today. Because I forgot to set my alarm, the night before, I woke up at 6:30 because my mom came in, thus gaining a half hour of valuable sleap. Because of my lateness in awakening, Dad drove me to school at 20 min. to 8:00, instead of the usual 7:15 buss. First period, Algebra, was fine. Next, Geography, I had a map test. I hope I did well. English was nice, as usual. Then, at lunch, I went to the lecture hall to get ready for my mime final. Odallas Lopez, another doing hers today, met me at the door. The last, Bart McHenry, came, a few minutes later. We did our faces and waited tensly for showtime. Being first, I did my mime, the Golfer, to the tunes of "Chariots of fire", "The Lone Ranger" & that little ditty you hear when something bad is coming in a cartoon or movie. The Odallas and Bart followed. French was fine. I got a critique paper. At home, We ate from McDonalds. Then I & Edina, went to Foot Hill's Drama production of "Up the Down Staircase" which was excellent. Back home again, I put my purse upstairs, Called Gayle to talk over araingments for tomorrow & went back down. Comming into the pool room, I heard sounds of music and dingings. Dad had the Jukebox on, playing pinball and so we ended the day with a long round of pinball (He got over 1 million on one game) to the jukebox. Whoever said that Friday the 13th was bad luck? Well, days like these really show me one of the meanings of life.

9/19/84 (10:02) We (mom, dad & I) have just sat down to watch the 1st St. Elsewhere of the year. Dad & I just worked on many computer things. He made me copies of each Toybox disk & a Dos 3.3. Now, we're working on a copy of the apple writer-disk. Toybox was a novel I was writing. 

Oct 7, (9:46, PM) Dad and I went to a football game today, (Rams against Atlanta) It was a great game. It was really close all through the whole game. Today, was when I was first introduced to "the wave". It was really neat. At the end of the game, the score was Rams-28, Atlanta-27 and there was about 7 seconds to go. Atlanta had the ball and had perfect position for a field goal. The croud shouted the seconds outloud but it was no use. They won. We all watched the debate of the President Reagan and Walter Mondale. From what I know, Mondale seems far better than Reagan but, most of the time, I don't know what they're saying.

Dec 9, 10:20, PM. Dad and I went to the best Rams' game today. Of course the Rams won (They played the Houston Oilers) but, that's not what made it so exciting. One player, Eric Dickerson, broke a record today, made by O.J. Simpson some 15 years back having something to do with how far he runs in a season. We were yelling 'Er-ic, Er-ic," until our throats were raw. I cheered and screamed so much. It was also the last season game except they won and get to go on playing. We drove home in the convertible with the top down. It was the greatest game!  

1985

4/20/85  Saturday. A long entry about other things, and then... Afterwards, the whole family plus Tina Anderson went out to see Beverly Hills Cop. I absolutely loved it. But, half way through it, of course, I had to go to the bathroom. I held it until the movie was over. Then, I learned that we were not allowed back into the theatre. We had to wait until we got home. When Mom, Dad, and I got finished with the toilets, back home, Dad turned to me and said:

“Mom and I agree that there is no feeling as good as a good pee.” 

 I agreed