Posts Tagged ‘Georgia’

I Went To School With Bonnie Jones (Azure)


24 Sep

bonnie-davis

Thought About You Today

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From:Bonnie Jones Davisson
Date: September 24, 2009 at 11:35am

Is that you, the clown? My husband worked at a Holiday Inn when we first moved to Orlando, and I voted at a Holiday Inn Express during that fateful '00 election, but I still don't see the connection. This one you will be forced to slap me directly in the face with the answer.

Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie. Go back to my original post. I was making some kind of joke, and I parenthetically proposed that you read the line I had written metaphorically with the same spirit, voice, and cadence as the commercial. The rodeo clown is not me, and has nothing to do with me, nor does Holiday Inn have anything to do with me, but is only one of many commercials Holiday Inn Express has aired using this same "voice" that beams, "Yada yada yada, but I DID stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night" inferring that a good night's rest at Holiday Inn Express was of such magical power that a stay allowed you to perform extraordinary, almost magical feats in situations you are hardly trained to accomplish, the next day. If that explanation doesn't help, I mean really, let's drop it. It's no big deal, unless you suspect that magic is somehow in the making. I am quite the metaphysician's mystic myself, but have a strong objective side to me that discounts the hocus pocus of wordgames as just that, wordgames. Wittgenstein, Popper, and all those crazy but highly focussed philosophers who taught us that language is a conspiracy of two or three gathered. We simply create and agree upon understanding, thus realizing the etymological organism in its most basic organizational form. That stuff...

I am disturbed to hear of your health predicaments. You have a darling family and chances are they still want you and need you in their lives. And didn’t I read that you’re gifted with a loving husband soon to be restoring his Lady to the Theme Park sovereignty of her youth? Slow fun can be fun too.
Meanwhile, among other bombshells I expect to volley one at a time, you mentioned that David Daniel died. When and how, do you mind? I heard Mutt became a professional boxer, but don't know any more than that. Dr. Henry Rodeffer is still in Fernandina, I discovered. What about Suzy? What about Philip Daugherty? What's his story? Mark didn't reply. Not that I expected anything more.

As for you dear Lady, convivial Queen of Theme Parks everywhere, don't let the wretched Georgia school system claw at your soul. It's hardly a secret, but everyone with spark in the dark is hush hush and too politically correct to admit that America the Beautiful is crumbling from within and without. Unfortunately it's my perception that things are only headed for the worse. There appears to be no escape. If you must acquiesce, allow any enemy their folly, but never give into these bastards, whatever their stripe. Our only consolation—as unforgiving time renders its verdict—is even breakneck stupidity is fleeting.

I am disturbed to hear of your health predicaments. You have a darling family and chances are they still want you and need you in their lives. And didn't I read that you're gifted with a loving husband soon to be restoring his Lady to the Theme Park sovereignty of her youth? Slow fun can be fun too.

She had flown that night with less than five dollars in her pocket. So she had to leave the hostel and foot it to the Western Union Office however far away that was, and have somebody wire her the money. Her grant check as expected came in the mail at the hostel on Monday, less than 24 hours after she was found dead on Easter Sunday.
My mother also died, now about five years ago, struggling down that last stretch in seeking her doctorate at the Adler School of Psychology, starting school in her late-fifties at Oglethorpe U there in Atlanta, earning her BA in 1999, where she was a star, and main topic in the president's address at Graduation Day. All this after raising six kids, having triple bypass surgery, and beating cancerous melanoma and lymphoma. My mother, however was a psychological mess, very smart, but with a keen intelligence mismanaged with great care, as her entire life was spent seeking respect, when in reality it wasn't respect she wanted but a highly cultivated admiration. She suffered all manner of struggle just to be admired, but most of all she wanted to be recognized as an authority. But at 69, she crumpled to the bed in a Chicago youth hostel on Maudy Thursday of the '03 Easter weekend, after a long flight from Atlanta only to be told by the NEW night manager that she couldn't get into her room (of nearly three years) until she caught up with her rent. She had flown that night with less than five dollars in her pocket. So she had to leave the hostel and foot it to the Western Union Office however far away that was, and have somebody wire her the money. Her grant check as expected came in the mail at the hostel on Monday, less than 24 hours after she was found dead on Easter Sunday.

She was a true character, a product of her generation however, and while I am indeed MY MOTHER'S SON, the eldest of six, and closest in resemblence both physically and intellectually to her, we were fiercely at odds most of the time in a battle of wits I refused to concede simply because she was my mother.

There's more, lots more, Bonnie, but I'll end here for now. Forget the Holiday Inn Express bit. It's totally irrelevant to anything of consequence...

Stay strong, and seek internal beauty...

Gabriel

Holidays In The November Sun


24 Nov

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Memory Cache

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Date: Tuesday, November 24, 1998 3:29 PM

Sorry for the delay with the 4th picture, but I have Anna. That should say it all.

Please, please come on down to Fripp and be with this part of your family for Thanksgiving. We would LOVE it. You answered before I had a chance to ask if you could ride as far as I-95 with Sue, now I know she has already left, but come on down—nothing like impromptu fun and food together.

Love and Happy Thanksgiving to you, hope it is here!

Thanks Maude for identifying those folks. It means a lot that you're helping me on this. I trust you've seen the fourth picture in the batch, and didn't quit prematurely. I haven't received any mail on that one. There are three clarifications I need. The two white hairs tic tac toeing Kitty, and Mr. Mayfield's first name...actually Francis is on the left. Is that Beth on the right? Current last names? As for copies, give me some time, and I'll have reproduce some of the best shots and make a gift of them to you, please. My photos are all so much in gross disorder at this moment, but 1999 should finally bring me some peace in that area. They are all packed away in 11 beautiful photo boxes years and themes all mixed together without rhyme or reason, except for the some more recent stacks I've now LABELED AND SCANNED (did some of THAT while on Fripp) not even in a box yet but stacked along the shelf waiting for a box to empty so they can move in! About ten percent of my archives have been labeled but probably only a tenth of that have been also scanned, so no doubt I've got my work cut out for me.

At my word, I'll make you some nifty enlargements, but you know the web (and a CD-ROM) is where I'm taking all this, God willing. When that time arrives, when the bulk of my work is online, it will be very exciting to have the scattered family come together for community spirit with pictures and other resources on ourselves so that we can indeed once again KNOW that we are FAM-uh-LEE...(my own acute sense of post-boyhood alienation is speaking here).

Saw the gastroenterologist today. She was helpful and encouraging. Next Monday I have blood work and small bowel x-rays to help weed out the possibilities causing my distress. In all, she seemed confident we can address these without alarm. My vitals are still pretty good, despite the weight. I'll let you know more as news filters in through the chain of command.

How are you two feeling these days? Sue's now in Georgia. I'm catching up on work now that we are FINALLY past the connectivity issues I hope. Would trade diamonds to be on Fripp with the most delightful nest of my family for another sublime share of David & Maudie's famous lowlander hospitality, but as it is I will entertain an acquaintance and his new girl on Thanksgiving here at the Dollhouse.

So here's wishing all of you a splendid holiday, wherever you are.

Love and cranberries,

GT

Evidence Of New York Already


08 Sep

A form of rural perfection, Avondale
Estates, Georgia, hitching a ride to meet Ginsberg,
the Big Apple gizzard, it's a scorcher, my balls sweaty,
hair down to my chin blondie, no Avondale mistakes,
no women to crack my halo or burn their bras,
hugging, sucking, tucking rugged red clay
construction sites bare to eyes without scruples,
New Worship cornerstone erections in latter days, oh thanking
nine heavens for seven elevens and the beliefs of Hippocrates,
and a beveled glass art-factory, original, vaginal, marginal cool
Georgia State Highway Patrol office, town of Avondale
protected from itself by gunpowder deterrents, thanking
God of Billions, the courtyard sports manger silver lining
flagpole, vacant of colored cloth, yet commands slaves
of the Texaco Star, guts holding down the fort,
stocks and bonds and spies, oh thanking
the Amoco Boy—our unwilted concern
while I beg to swallow cold fountain water kept
safe in your keeping—heard on the radio, the Heat God
killed eight suffering unair-conditioned zekes in the state
of the Cracker last week. Then I left the road one more
time before setting sail with my nearer to thee Life Scout thumb.
Left to get a Big Mac and dry fish sandwich. Left
me with fifteen cents and only 873 miles
to the scales of Manhattan where I hoped to share my book
of dead poems with a famous asshole named Allen.

[1983, Atlanta, GA ]

S A M P L E X

"Ignorance and virtue suck on the same straw. Souls grow on bones, but die beneath bankers' hours.""


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