Hello, Everyone! Well, here begins our most recent adventure. This is the one where we go to Durham, North Carolina. It was fun, and wild, and wooly...so stay tuned for the whole bowl of weirdness.
Now, one thing I should mention. This is going to be a little different. That’s because I took notes on the trip in a little steno pad and I’m going to try to reproduce them as well as possible, and then expand them with additional details and texts.
I used to keep all my journals in notebooks. But, well, my handwriting has never been good. I was the complete despair of my teachers in grade school. At least one of them suggested I was “special needs.” Of course, if she hadn’t been slapping my left hand every dang time I used it to write, maybe things would have been a little different. But, she did, and too late now. The one good thing was that when my son proved left handed, schools weren’t quite so left-phobic...or, to be precise, sinistrophobic. (Yes. That’s a real word. I looked it up.)
About the photo: again, nothing to do with the story at hand. But, I like the shot. Anyway, it’s Martha on the top of Sandia Peak in New Mexico. It was a lovely, cool day and we were looking down on the city in all its blue mystery.
And...besides...when a tiny few reactionary teachers did object to David’s left-handedness, it was someone else’s hand that got slapped. By me. Or Martha. And maybe a face or two. Or, maybe, not slapped exactly. Let’s just say that the snarling and fangs sort of got the message across. No physical contact necessary. Though, it might have been fun...
Where was I? Oh, yes...the journal. My handwriting is awful and has gotten worse over the years. Right now, we’re talking Minoan Linear A crossed with Rorschach test. On Mescaline. After three rounds with a pre-prison, pre-biting Mike Tyson. Or a pile driver. Six of one.
But, I am going to try to reproduce at least part of the notebook, and thus, I hope, to provide a bit insight into “The Bull City,” a community that proved to be really rather a blast. Martha and I had a genuinely good time, and discovered a community of which we had, before, been in total ignorance.
It will also provide a little look into the thought processes of yours truly. For me, that’s one of the characteristics of handwritten journals. They tend to reveal more than when I type.
So...that being the case...you may want to invest in mud boots, latex gauntlets, a butcher’s apron, industrial goggles, and a plastic face shield.
This could get MESSY.
More to come.
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