Alumni Notes

The post of 11/11/09 reminds me of a moment during my first year in college when, as a freshly out gay I witnessed two unimpugnably straight seeming dormmates wrestle one another to the floor in the hall yet again. When they'd completed their roughhousing and stood up, one of them had a huge erection. He noticed me noticing his erection. At the time, I felt as though I'd won-- as though I'd learned a malevolently powerful secret. I don't feel that way anymore. Although the event remains, as it was at the time, titillating, now I mostly wonder with a wry cynicism why the situation didn't immediately devolve into bisexual bacchanalia. All this took place, afterall, on the campus of Wesleyan University.

Branches Revealed

Up Where We Belong

What a treat that Up appears in this particular list.

From the UW Archives: Memory of 8/25/09 Post

From This Weekend's Winter Market

Through the picture window

From This Weekend's Winter Market

Conflicting Concerts

Note: Ballet Arthritique is my imaginary company.

I am fascinated by Madison City leaf removal which seems to follow the same paradigm as snow removal-- bulldoze into large pile in middle of street then carry away in dump truck.

The second image above was snapped through our picture window.

On watching Revolutionary Road

1. Enthusiasm for Michael Shannon and his character John Givings.
2. Fascinated that this was a Winslet-Mendes husband/wife "passion project."
3. [this reason removed, in Knnth's words, "out of respect for Kate Winslet"]
4. Disappointment that the picture window ended up on the cutting room floor.

Richard Yates writes the picture window:

"'Of course it does have the picture window; I guess there's no escaping that.'
"'I guess not,' Frank said. 'Still, I don't suppose one picture window is necessarily going to destroy our personalities.'"

"Their sofa could go here and their big table there; their solid wall of books would take the curse off the picture window; a sparse, skillful arrangement of furniture would counteract the prim suburban look of this too-symmetrical living room."

"When the funnies were finished at last he struggled to his feet, quietly gasping, and stood for several minutes in the middle of the carpet, making tight fists in his pockets to restrain himself from doing what suddenly seemed the only thing in the world he really and truly wanted to do: picking up a chair and throwing it through the picture window."

Kenneth upholds the continued significance of the picture window in our lives by forwarding this article along to me: "Shots fired on southwest side, picture window hit."

Knnth's Haiku

Ken Ober is dead,
And I have to cut my nails--
Clip, clip, clip, clip, clip,

"You are unacquainted with the man before you. The inferences which you have drawn, with regard to my designs, and my conduct, are a tissue of destructive errors. You, like others, are blind to the most momentous consequences of your own actions. You talk of imparting consolation. You boast the benificence of your intentions. You set yourself to do me a benefit. What are the effects of your misguided zeal, and random efforts? They have brought my life to a miserable close. They have shrouded the last scene of it in blood. They have put the seal on my perdition."

-Charles Brockden Brown, Edgar Huntly, or Memoirs of a Sleepwalker (1799)

In the Nashville airport

• I drank a Glacéau Vitamin Water XXX (triple antioxidants)-- only 30 cents more than bottled tap water.
• I relocated myself and my luggage so as not to have to listen to two cellphone conversations.
• I read a bit of Parsons' The Castle of Wolfenbach.
• I texted Knnth about my state of unrest-- so so tired.
• I looked at people and wondered if they were sexy.
• I listened to country stars welcome me to Nashville and make various other airport related announcements-- apologies for renovation mess, etc.
• I decided that a strapping lad wearing white sneakers and reading Sports Illustrated was undeniably sexy.
• I urinated next to the pilot.

"I hope nobody get hurt!!"

Knnth turned me on to Melt Banana's blog. "This you gotta read," he wrote in a recent email.

I adore Melt Banana. I adore their blog. Short and sweet and punk rock.

PS - Knnth has taken to blogging regularly again. Thank you, Knnth.

Results from a Recent Search

The Hostas Having Been Cut

Outtakes:Notes on Pallette

Conclusions/Results

For Bradford:From the Neighborhood (Wood in Brian's Drive)