25th Anniversary/Vineland

[Erik T. Burns]

Thanks for sharing that, Rich.
take care.
E

On Fri, May 15, 2020 at 12:00 AM 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
>