I’m lampin’. I’m lampin’. I’m cold cold lampin’. Ok, that’s not exactly true: I’m sitting at Peet’s, postin’ to my blog, but my bike is parked under a lamp, or street light. Or Terry’s bike, rather. A purple Schwin. A purple Schwin with a grocery basket. Unlocked. Anybody?
Ben or Benji the barrista (he made my coffee drink, the spell check things he went to law school) has a guitar tattoo on his left forearm, and a couple weeks ago the first time we met, posed for a sick, ridiculous, nasty and now “cutty” air-guitar photo, which I hope to paste in later.
I am not really in the mood to actually write the four or five posts on as many topics, but instead am just publishing a reading list, or viewing list, including “Ghost Dog” by Jim Jarmusch which, as I was explaining to “King Benji” includes a scene in which Forrest Whitaker is a hit man who attacks to spectacular effect a presumed guilty organized crime figure, a middle-aged guy who has a surprising interest in the music of “Public Enemy” (an eighties rap group and not the score from a Cagney movie).
Lampin’ in my usage, and I am more Michael Franti “Yell Fire” than William Safire, means this lazy easy list of cultural cues and clues and not any actual thinking and writing. Thank you to my old briend FEM for agreeing to pre-edit these posts before the six billion other potential readers — and 33 actual followers of “Plastic Alto” get at it.
I just clicked “Plato’s Republic” as a “Category” in that I want to add here that the City of Palo Alto assistant city clerk David Carnahan informed me yesterday that I will indeed be interviewed by current City Council as one of 10 candidates to be considered for two seats on the five-member Architectural Review Board. The board’s bylaws state that three of five seats must be occupied by architects or design professionals, and I am arguing that I could be considered for one of those seats in that I design live music events. Further I am arguing that archtitets per se are over-repreented on this board and there is at least a perception that there is a bit of log-rolling going on (as compared to lampin’) and that now is the time for more non-architects on that board. I would say that if there are already two or more architects on the board that Council should select against such in the upcoming placements.
They interview me and 9 others for 10 minutes apiece, you can see in person or it will be archived. I have applied for three previous board or commission openings, and have so far received 0 out of more than 27 possible votes. I started an application to PATC about a year ago and then clerk Ronna Gonzalves wrote me back to say that the document I had submitted electronically was mysteriously blank. (PATC member Michael Alchek, a realtor and attorney, meanwhile recalls me as the one who wrote a “rap” that I then read at the proceedings, the hearings, the one by which he was seated. Ok, not quite. It had some poetry to it, but it was not actually a rap. I knew Allen Ginsberg, sir, and I am no Allen Ginsberg. Ok, I did not know Ginsberg, but I have met several times his publisher Lawrence Ferlinghetti and I met Alden Van Buskirk’s sister. I digress, dig?)
So I am hoping to sit down and view,not for first time these three documents, which exist in this time-space continuum as “dvd”.
1. Life and Times of Harvey Milk. A documentary. I am looking for the scene where 1,000 unarmed gay men shout down 200 mostly not gay cops with guns and armor and clubs by singing or chanting: we have the power to…fight back.
2. Ghost Dog Jim Jarmusch. Looking for scene of “lampin'” cue drop.
3. Adventures of Buckaoo Bonzai in the Third Dimension; I saw this with Rich Freed in 1988 or so, when it was in Theatres maybe or on VCR when that was new. I am looking for what seemed hilarious at the time, a character named Big Boo-tay.
Freudians might have fun looking for threw line between the gays, the plumbing and Big Bootay.
Which reminds that I am also toting three books, beyond the 20 or more books pile high on Terry’s floor, that I was toting in my trunk, new additions to the flock.
1. Man and his Symbols by Jung. Because someone posted on PAW that I have “animus”. Maybe “anima” which is my shadow self, and my feminine shadow self, but “animus”. The post was signed Jim Baer but Jim Baer the developer and I now learn my neighbor says it was not him. Maybe it’s Jim Baer whose kids go or went to Gunn, or just a troll.
2. I have a Frank Lobdell pamphlett co-researched by my old friend and not quite a flame Elizabeth Hutchinson, because apparently some of those squiggles were little homculous figures that might figure in here, so to speak. One of our two or three copies of this pamphlet have a joke autograph: To Terry thanks for being my muse Love Frank Lobdell AND an actual Frank Lobdell autograph, apparently the last such he signed before passing away earlier this year. (When Thai Boy and I rang his bell and posed with his wife, and took photos. Jinx).
Jimi Hendrix Starting At Zero His Own Story with Peter Neal that I bought in L.A. with Terry this July at a boutique downtown run by a child of Bob Marley. bEcause I just last night caught the the better part (but not to Buck Henry completionist levels) of a new biopic made by some Irish dudes starring Andre Benjamin (from Atlanta), a film that gave the odd experience of remembering a repressed memory of an embarrassing moment in a Ramona Street boutique, which I will decline to state other than I once performed or actually de-butted Beat Hotel Room 32 Reads Howl right there 520 Ramona and we have pictures to prove it, with Steve Rothblatt, who wrote a screenplay called “Shorty” (but not get shorty).
And these 4 compact dicks
1. Don Cherry Mu First Park Mu Second Part (1969)
2. Choying Drolma Steve Tibbets Selwa (2004)
3. Os Mutantes self tit-led also 1968 especially track 7 Bat Macumba by Gilberto Gil and Caetano Velosa which makes me want to ring my pal Tim Harris for some strange raro reason but also to search-injun what year Burgess Meredith first played Benguin.
4. Tinariwen Tassili 2011 Anti records pr by Ian Brennan not the gay glee guy
dude edit me