25th Anniversary/Vineland

[Ian Livingston]

immediate history and the dialectic of
scrota and vulvae shimmy in

all the ones in all

the memories of what shits itself
from the ass end of a bourbon bottle
then reflects in the bent light
on the was that is.

Yeah, there was no One to shape any of P for me (except may Plato) but I
sure get Her influence over my life just the same.


On Fri, May 15, 2020 at 6:35 AM Keith Davis <kbob42 at gmail.com> wrote:

> Beautiful, man.
>
> Www.keithdavismusic.com
>
> > On May 15, 2020, at 5:06 AM, Mark Kohut <mark.kohut at gmail.com> wrote:
> >
> > Rich,
> >
> > Moving. The personal that matters even here (instead of just privately).
> >
> > I suggest thinking of sending TRP word as to how he change your life.
> >
> > Mark
> >
> >> On Thu, May 14, 2020 at 7:00 PM rich <richard.romeo at gmail.com> wrote:
> >>
> >> Hi all
> >>
> >> This week will mark the 25th anniversary that I've been on this list.
> >> Pretty much half my life.
> >> I discovered Pynchon in 1991-1992. I went to Northern California during
> a
> >> cross-country train trip in May-June 1994 from the east coast,
> specifically
> >> to get to Eureka, Arcata, and thereabouts for no other reason than
> >> Vineland. Soon after, the following year, I washed up on this list.
> >> 1994 was a special year. I happened to be deep in love with the woman
> who
> >> got me into Pynchon. Much of what makes her special to me still revolves
> >> around the fact that I can't usually separate thinking about Vineland
> and
> >> Pynchon in general from her. I gave her a copy of Vineland for her
> birthday
> >> one year (hers was beat up) adding a quote from Zoyd's memory of his
> >> wedding to Frenesi.
> >> She disappeared from my life a few years later which was devastating as
> >> those things usually are. We lost touch, she moved away. Only later did
> I
> >> find out she passed in 2009 of cancer. We had our time together.
> >> My life is different now but I wouldnt be here after all this time if it
> >> wasn't for her. I may have posted this already but the anniversary
> brings
> >> all these memories back.
> >> Sure, if I ever met Pynchon I could bore him with how he's changed my
> life
> >> but I think I would just mention that it was through him I met a bunch
> of
> >> interesting, crazy mad people. I would hope he would appreciate that
> more
> >> than anything.
> >>
> >> cheers
> >> rich
> >>
> >> On the Trail of Zoyd Wheeler
> >>
> >> (Eureka CA, June 1 1994)
> >>
> >> Leaving Redding at first light
> >>
> >> thinking of your warmth
> >>
> >> forget the darkness, you said
> >>
> >> only the need to be loved
> >>
> >> my mind filled with coyotes, libraries and thoth
> >>
> >> hunting cougars, the local wine
> >>
> >> Plato in my backpocket, a bag of mushrooms
> >>
> >> ice cold Coronas and triple bean sauces
> >>
> >> writer of my own half-baked stories
> >>
> >> my failed poet-making a mockery
> >>
> >> of other people’s wondrous madness
> >>
> >> she was there to encourage
> >>
> >> a glimpse of her promised land:
> >>
> >> coherence:
> >>
> >> the wood wall Arcata apartment out back
> >>
> >> orange carpet, soft 70s on the radio
> >>
> >> built by exiled German communists
> >>
> >> shelves at attention with righteous soldiering
> >>
> >> the stove in silence in the opposite corner
> >>
> >> heat weeping from the invisible pages...
> >>
> >> Sleeping with the ants
> >>
> >> the school next door, bells
> >>
> >> ringing the morning, young and beautiful voices
> >>
> >> the family plot filled with green life
> >>
> >> I dreaming of William Stafford, marijuana soil exercises
> >>
> >> the devils losing to time’s myriad enigmas
> >>
> >> riding to work by bike
> >>
> >> pondered by bears, the trees
> >>
> >> ‘laying down in the tall grass
> >>
> >> lettin me do my stuff’...
> >>
> >> warm bodies
> >>
> >> ex-hippie trash shops, giggling changing socks
> >>
> >> plans for future Dead shows
> >>
> >> day-glo orange china cat sunflowers on VW bugs
> >>
> >> farts, lost souls on the wharves
> >>
> >> smiling lesbians and new agers
> >>
> >> town fathers drinking bitter coffee
> >>
> >>
> >> writing postcards about the Victorians, the streets
> >>
> >> built by out of time mill workers
> >>
> >> family fishermen in Is and 3s, ghost miners, loggers all
> >>
> >> knew what floated the local economy:
> >>
> >> the Pacific
> >>
> >> out of nowhere
> >>
> >> a sound constant yet so silent
> >>
> >> directionless, lonely approach
> >>
> >> straight down the waterfront horizon
> >>
> >> hungry mistresses
> >>
> >> awaiting with outstretched embraces
> >>
> >> harbors of blood and bone cast aside
> >>
> >> you here now walking between the thousands of these spread pages
> >>
> >> waking the silence
> >>
> >> ready for recovery, writing
> >>
> >> bourbon in hand
> >>
> >> one jean pant leg rolled up
> >>
> >> a man 50 turning 30
> >>
> >> (Long Island City, June 1 2014)
> >> --
> >> Pynchon-L: https://waste.org/mailman/listinfo/pynchon-l
> >>
> > --
> > Pynchon-L: https://waste.org/mailman/listinfo/pynchon-l
> --
> Pynchon-L: https://waste.org/mailman/listinfo/pynchon-l
>