Friday -- went to see Sin City with some friends I do not see nearly often enough even though they are really witty and insightful people. Frank Miller got me into reading comics with Dark Knight. Got me thinking about the boxes of bagged and backed comic books I have packed away in acid free everything boxes. Got me thinking about where I was at and the world I was in and the people I shared my pleasure in comics with a long time ago. I was asked to write an issue of The Crow shortly before their publisher collapsed. One of my biggest disappointments ever not being able to do that.
Saturday -- a friend of mine from the zine days and sf fandom came through Los Angeles and took me and Forrest out to dinner at one of my favorite restaurants. Had not seen him in years and it was great catching up. We had a really nice time and went for coffee afterwards. Well, the boys were smart enough to drink blue soda, but I had an iced latte and then spent the rest of the evening with my brain just zinging with thoughts about where I was at and the world I was in and the people I shared my pleasure in overall fandom and conventions and print publishing with. I love magazines, but that industry is such a mine field.
Sunday -- went over to Retail Slut and kept them company while they dismantled the store. Peter took me and Forrest and Yolanda to dinner afterwards. Both at the store and later, we were all talking about the crazy fun times we had which revolved around Retail Slut. The time we photographed people fucking in the evil dressing room. Who really decorated the good dressing room. The times we photographed people all over that store, naked in the front window, everywhere. The legion of cool famous people who have shopped there. The time that a photographer who usually does not drink and I were tipsily talking about how it freaked us out that some photographers in town were so psycho competitive and still couldn't take a great picture when another local photog came up behind him and totally took offense. The time we took one of the Blue Blood models there to pull clothes and the landlord came by and said some drunkass thing about her sphincter and almost got his ass kicked by her husband from a very successful evil band. The wild people who have manned the counter there and their entertaining antics. The people who always stopped into Retail Slut whenever they came through town and that was how everyone tracked them and knew they were back. The people who used the store as a babysitter, fax service, bar, therapist, dating service, casting agency, everything. It was time and Peter and Yolanda are obviously so much happier than they were towards the end and doing so well. But it got me thinking bout where I was at and the world I was in and the people I shared my pleasure in being part a dangerously punk but fabulously glittering and joyous scene with.
Monday -- had to deal with some depressing business stuff I never thought I would have to do. Thought about the fact that two people who I really like picked up the tab for dinner two nights in a row. I always end up being the one to pick up the tab these days. And often for people who are not nearly as enjoyable as this weekend's wonderful dining companions. It actually seems weird to have someone else be the generous one two nights in a row. It is so rare these days for my friends to treat that the occasions are more memorable than maybe they should be. Nina bought coffee for me and Forrest last time we shot together. L treated me to drinks and breakfast in Vegas. A relative treated at The Polo Lounge last time he was in LA. Before that, I think it was most likely the previous June when someone else treated. Thought about how there were people who were so sad I hadn't been able to keep up with certain things. Thought about how people will demand that others live their lives to entertain them, but won't support the very organizations who bring them what they enjoy. Thought about how there are both large profit-hungry corporations and complicitly unsupportive scenesters systematically stamping out and over-commodifying everything I love. These were recurring themes in every conversation.
Missed all my Monday deadlines. Returned all my calls too late. Didn't finish tidying up for my Tuesday shoot. Didn't answer almost any email. Didn't get my writing done. Didn't get photos submitted. Wished I hadn't skipped physical therapy last week. Foot hurts like a bitch and weird kidney pain is getting worse again. Splitting headache. Tried to make reservations for a wedding in the DC/Baltimore area and couldn't quite bring myself to finalize them. Realized I was being useless and decided to watch CSI on Tivo and even it sucked. Tried to upgrade my Netflix for improved escapism and their system told me it would take nearly a month for them to start sending me more movies. Just one of those days.
I want to be strong and creative and once again lead the charge to a better promised place for my people, but I'm having trouble getting my head around who they are today and what to do about the traitors to the cause and the shortsighted fools who would, not only sell their own friends out for a moldy donut, but would sell their own happiness, who truly cut off their own noses to spite their faces. I need to keep in less sporadic touch with some of the really great people I know all over the world and make less time for the turkeys. Might be time to travel a bit more. I might not have roots, but I do have history. I know everything is going to be okay. I'm just not sure that it is going to be an okay I would have recognized when I set out on this path. I'll figure it out another day. Today, the nostalgia and memories swirling around in my head are just on overdose settings.
