.
photograph by Mark Daniels
4.29.2005
4.28.2005
sage advice
"Yes, Obi-Wan," my friend said to me, bowing his head.
I turned red. I seldom blush anymore since all those orgies, but I was embarrassed.
I had been caught pontificating.
I lit a cigarette to cover my confusion.
Reason to smoke today: I have to watch out for the dark side
I turned red. I seldom blush anymore since all those orgies, but I was embarrassed.
I had been caught pontificating.
I lit a cigarette to cover my confusion.
Reason to smoke today: I have to watch out for the dark side
4.27.2005
vice squad
"You know, smoking's bad for you."
"I seem to have heard that somewhere."
"You should really quit."
"I know."
"They give, like, mild doses of antidepressives."
Botox, the gym, hypnosis, broccoli—there's a fix for everything, and only too many people who are happy to tell you how misguided you are for not fixing yourself. In grade school we used to call them goodie-goodies. They're the ones who wanted to grow up to be principal. Now they're health evangelicals, eager to rule your world. If there is such a thing as karma, these folks will die of ironic causes, probably colon cancer from being such tight-asses. (I wonder if Christian evangelicals have a higher incidence of brain cancer due to radiation from those halos.)
Reason not to quit today: I'd rather die of being a bad kid.
"I seem to have heard that somewhere."
"You should really quit."
"I know."
"They give, like, mild doses of antidepressives."
Botox, the gym, hypnosis, broccoli—there's a fix for everything, and only too many people who are happy to tell you how misguided you are for not fixing yourself. In grade school we used to call them goodie-goodies. They're the ones who wanted to grow up to be principal. Now they're health evangelicals, eager to rule your world. If there is such a thing as karma, these folks will die of ironic causes, probably colon cancer from being such tight-asses. (I wonder if Christian evangelicals have a higher incidence of brain cancer due to radiation from those halos.)
Reason not to quit today: I'd rather die of being a bad kid.
4.26.2005
my life in pictures
It's the curse of my career that I never write for writing's sake, but for photography's sake. Photo captions a specialty. Amanuesis to photographers, that's me. The most important journalistic skill I learned in a long career at (the former) Life magazine was how to stay out of the frame.
It's a lesson I learned so well that I am now privileged to write essays for photographers' books. The latest is one by Chien-Chi Chang, for which I was able to stay out of frames in both Vietnam and Taiwan. Called Double Happiness (an ironic title, trust me), it has just been released by Aperture.
Double Happiness is also the name of a popular brand of cigarettes in Taiwan. I have several packs in my Cigarettes From Around the World collection.
Reason I can't quit: I need something to do while I'm waiting for the click.
It's a lesson I learned so well that I am now privileged to write essays for photographers' books. The latest is one by Chien-Chi Chang, for which I was able to stay out of frames in both Vietnam and Taiwan. Called Double Happiness (an ironic title, trust me), it has just been released by Aperture.
Double Happiness is also the name of a popular brand of cigarettes in Taiwan. I have several packs in my Cigarettes From Around the World collection.
Reason I can't quit: I need something to do while I'm waiting for the click.
4.25.2005
miss hollywood
“Do you want to take in a flick?”
“No.”
“Say, have you heard about that one with Sean Penn? It’s supposed to be good.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of it. No, I don’t want to see it.”
“And there’s this really cool—“
“Spare me.”
“Say, we could rent the original Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner.”
“I don’t have a TV.”
“You don’t have a TV?”
I don’t have a TV. I don’t go to the movies, either. I walked out of the first movie I ever saw at about age five (Uncle Remus and the Tar Baby—it wasn’t a new release) and the first TV show I ever saw at about age seven, a Shirley Temple Theater version of Rip Van Winkle. I’ve been walking out of movies and TV shows ever since, except for the three-year period in which I reviewed them for People magazine. I wasn’t allowed to walk out then, although I dearly wished to during the screening of the first Amityville Horror. I prefer my words and pictures to keep still.
But here’s the truth: It’s not that I don’t like the medium, it’s that I like it too much. I’m the perfect audience. I suspend disbelief and live everything on the screen, relate to every character (this is particlularly tough with the bad guy). My lips move when they speak, and my feet twitch when they run. It’s exhausting.
Yes, I have control issues. Like I don’t have much self control. Pass me a smoke.
Why I can’t stop today: I’m such a sucker.
“No.”
“Say, have you heard about that one with Sean Penn? It’s supposed to be good.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of it. No, I don’t want to see it.”
“And there’s this really cool—“
“Spare me.”
“Say, we could rent the original Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner.”
“I don’t have a TV.”
“You don’t have a TV?”
I don’t have a TV. I don’t go to the movies, either. I walked out of the first movie I ever saw at about age five (Uncle Remus and the Tar Baby—it wasn’t a new release) and the first TV show I ever saw at about age seven, a Shirley Temple Theater version of Rip Van Winkle. I’ve been walking out of movies and TV shows ever since, except for the three-year period in which I reviewed them for People magazine. I wasn’t allowed to walk out then, although I dearly wished to during the screening of the first Amityville Horror. I prefer my words and pictures to keep still.
But here’s the truth: It’s not that I don’t like the medium, it’s that I like it too much. I’m the perfect audience. I suspend disbelief and live everything on the screen, relate to every character (this is particlularly tough with the bad guy). My lips move when they speak, and my feet twitch when they run. It’s exhausting.
Yes, I have control issues. Like I don’t have much self control. Pass me a smoke.
Why I can’t stop today: I’m such a sucker.
4.24.2005
branding
What is it with the stickers on fruit? Apples, oranges, bananas—wait til you try to get those suckers off grapes or cherries. You either wreck the fruit or wind up with little labels stuck to your fingers.
Let's think about this: edible dyes? scorched logos? light-sensitive treatments? seeds with scanners? Or how about a checkout person who knows a Fuji from a Gala?
A Camel's brand burns right off, simple but elegant. I think I'll have one now.
Reason for smoking today: research and development
By the way, don't miss out on what the good doctor has to say about smoking and stress.
Let's think about this: edible dyes? scorched logos? light-sensitive treatments? seeds with scanners? Or how about a checkout person who knows a Fuji from a Gala?
A Camel's brand burns right off, simple but elegant. I think I'll have one now.
Reason for smoking today: research and development
By the way, don't miss out on what the good doctor has to say about smoking and stress.
4.23.2005
tribal memory
Why is this night different than all other nights?
On this night, I remember that I am Jewish.
These are the four questions:
Why, on this night, do we eat unleavened bread?
Why, on this night, do we eat bitter herbs?
Why, on this night, do we dip the herbs, twice, in salt water?
Why, on this night, do we eat reclining?
The answers are: oppression, privation, tears and hope.
Or, alternatively: no time to cook, garni, flavor, fine dining.
Journalism also has four questions: Who? What? When? Where?
Answers: The Jews, Slavery, circa 1200 B.C. E., Egypt.
There was nothing to do but flee. Exodus.
Reason to smoke today: We’ve got to get the fuck out of here, quick
On this night, I remember that I am Jewish.
These are the four questions:
Why, on this night, do we eat unleavened bread?
Why, on this night, do we eat bitter herbs?
Why, on this night, do we dip the herbs, twice, in salt water?
Why, on this night, do we eat reclining?
The answers are: oppression, privation, tears and hope.
Or, alternatively: no time to cook, garni, flavor, fine dining.
Journalism also has four questions: Who? What? When? Where?
Answers: The Jews, Slavery, circa 1200 B.C. E., Egypt.
There was nothing to do but flee. Exodus.
Reason to smoke today: We’ve got to get the fuck out of here, quick
4.22.2005
4.21.2005
what's for lunch?
A friend of mine says the above phrase is the one I most dread in the English language. She knows me well. Closely followed by, "What's for dinner?"
To raise a child to maturity, one needs to shop for and prepare something like 25,000 meals. That's for one kid. Nowadays, many families eat individually—one meal per kid, another for parents. Calculate that sucker out before you skip the birth control pill.
I had it down pretty well. Breakfast was cereal, prepared by the child before she woke me up to French braid her hair and walk her to school. And dinner I conceded as a necessity—or let my husband prepare it. But lunch! How much work is it to make a sandwich? A child of four can do it—and should.
So now the kid is grown up. Once a week she comes over and asks, "What's for breakfast?" She knows better than to call it lunch, even though the time could be almost considered lunchtime. She doesn't even dare call it brunch. And once a week, I can hack it.
Let me light a cigarette and think about the menu for tomorrow.
Reason I can't quit today: What's for breakfast?
To raise a child to maturity, one needs to shop for and prepare something like 25,000 meals. That's for one kid. Nowadays, many families eat individually—one meal per kid, another for parents. Calculate that sucker out before you skip the birth control pill.
I had it down pretty well. Breakfast was cereal, prepared by the child before she woke me up to French braid her hair and walk her to school. And dinner I conceded as a necessity—or let my husband prepare it. But lunch! How much work is it to make a sandwich? A child of four can do it—and should.
So now the kid is grown up. Once a week she comes over and asks, "What's for breakfast?" She knows better than to call it lunch, even though the time could be almost considered lunchtime. She doesn't even dare call it brunch. And once a week, I can hack it.
Let me light a cigarette and think about the menu for tomorrow.
Reason I can't quit today: What's for breakfast?
4.20.2005
spring fever
I just can't seem to get too riled up right now.
Maybe it was the flu, or Lyme's, or having too much fun on my spring road trip, watching those redbuds and dogwoods go in and out of bloom several times, but when I got back to the big city I went into the valley of the shadow. Shivering and sweating, evil dreaming that I got bit by a rattlesnake or that my baby was dying of disease, unable to sit up or light up for days.
And then it went away, and like magic, it was spring, too. The magnolias are blooming, the shad roe is in, and sidewalk cafes are sprouting everywhere with their laisse faire smoking policies. I met a friend at a cafe, and we sat down and ordered beer.
"I might just have to go across the street and buy a cigar," he said.
"Oh no you don't," I said, drawing a Havana cigar from my pocket. "I brought you one."
The guy at the next table leaned over. "You married the right woman," he said to my friend.
"Oh no he didn't," I said.
Reason for smoking today: Life is sweet.
Maybe it was the flu, or Lyme's, or having too much fun on my spring road trip, watching those redbuds and dogwoods go in and out of bloom several times, but when I got back to the big city I went into the valley of the shadow. Shivering and sweating, evil dreaming that I got bit by a rattlesnake or that my baby was dying of disease, unable to sit up or light up for days.
And then it went away, and like magic, it was spring, too. The magnolias are blooming, the shad roe is in, and sidewalk cafes are sprouting everywhere with their laisse faire smoking policies. I met a friend at a cafe, and we sat down and ordered beer.
"I might just have to go across the street and buy a cigar," he said.
"Oh no you don't," I said, drawing a Havana cigar from my pocket. "I brought you one."
The guy at the next table leaned over. "You married the right woman," he said to my friend.
"Oh no he didn't," I said.
Reason for smoking today: Life is sweet.
4.14.2005
legislation sucks
They have just passed an open container law in Louisiana—for the first time. Who knows what will happen to the drive-in daiqueri stands that stud the countryside? In Alabama, no car inspection is required. In Missouri, a sizeable percentage of drivers don't even have drivers' licenses, and you can do anything at all on your property, including having a hog wallow, without permissions from 50 federal, state and local agencies. Everywhere, smoking is allowed in restaurants and bars. This is a lawless land, except for where I live.
I have a friend in Missouri who drives a pickup with a Kerry bumper sticker as well as one that reads "Proud to be a Vietnam vet." He doesn't smoke, but he says that anyone on an emergency medical team would be well advised to. Apparently, the cellophane on a cigarette pack is the bond of choice on "a sucking wound." He learned this in the Vietnam war. Take off the plastic, slap it on the opening—and voila—a fix while you stabilize the patient.
Reason for smoking today: It could save lives.
I have a friend in Missouri who drives a pickup with a Kerry bumper sticker as well as one that reads "Proud to be a Vietnam vet." He doesn't smoke, but he says that anyone on an emergency medical team would be well advised to. Apparently, the cellophane on a cigarette pack is the bond of choice on "a sucking wound." He learned this in the Vietnam war. Take off the plastic, slap it on the opening—and voila—a fix while you stabilize the patient.
Reason for smoking today: It could save lives.
4.04.2005
4.02.2005
cookie monster
I had this vision whilst abed in Madison, Georgia. It had been a long day, down from Washington D.C., center of all I revile these days, along the Strom Thurmond Highway through South Carolina in the buckets of rain with frayed windshield wiper blades that made it impossible to see the trucks I was passing. But as I lay on a feather bed in the Confederate graveyard, I knew that I had a mission: To launch another blog for one of my oldest friends, a woman with a sense of humor so insane that to promote her would be my gift to the world.
Well, we did it. Elviscopalian, with the thesis "What Would Elvis Do?" has debuted. But then I screwed it up. I tried to log in on her computer and all the cookies got eaten or crumbled and now she can't post.
There was nothing for it. Fortunately, I had managed to purchase five cartons of Kool Extra Lites and five cartons of Camel Lites (box) at $20.99 per in North Carolina (at a store in which the cashiers were actually smoking—when was the last time you saw that?).
Reason to smoke today: I am such a fucking idiot.
Well, we did it. Elviscopalian, with the thesis "What Would Elvis Do?" has debuted. But then I screwed it up. I tried to log in on her computer and all the cookies got eaten or crumbled and now she can't post.
There was nothing for it. Fortunately, I had managed to purchase five cartons of Kool Extra Lites and five cartons of Camel Lites (box) at $20.99 per in North Carolina (at a store in which the cashiers were actually smoking—when was the last time you saw that?).
Reason to smoke today: I am such a fucking idiot.
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