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Saturday 9/5/20

This is Mississippi John Hurt singing "You Got to Walk that Lonesome Valley." His face is so wise and his fingers so beautiful.


You got to walk that lonesome valley

You got to walk it for yourself

Ain't nobody here can walk it for you

You got to walk that valley for yourself.



Walking it, John.


On a more literal note, walked eleven miles today and ran 2600 stairs.


Also: #GLM. It's my new hashtag.


I saw someone on Twitter scolding someone for what they said was the improper use of "checks notes," and that this other person shouldn't try and be hip by using it. You almost have to laugh if it weren't so depressing, and the fact that this is the world in which you live is impacting you so much in the most deleterious ways. But here's a thought: If you are saying something that everyone else is saying, you're not hip. You're dumb and simple and unoriginal. You're an un-clever lemming. Think up your own shit and have it be interesting. What a concept, right? Think up your own compelling stuff that other people haven't thought of. And go with that. Then talk to me about hip or whatever label of praise one wishes.


Also, remember Stephanie Merry of The Washington Post? Here's a sentence that was just in the paper:


"What were once seen as markers of troublemakers have become muddled as peaceful protesters don shields & gas masks to protect against munitions police use to disperse crowds."


Holy shit is that bad. But yeah, the problem was me, definitely. Wasn't total incompetence, complete abnegation of professionalism, and petty animus at all, for which I had pounds of flesh extracted.


I read a new story about a woman in Rockport--the place I love more than any other--who found a discarded piece of paper in the paddock where she keeps her horse. Or horses. I don't recall which. She was, I'd say, late twenties. No more. So, if you live in Rockport and are in your late twenties and have a paddock and a horse or horses in it, you come from money, or someone gave you money--as in inherited--or something along those lines. The piece of paper was one on which two little boys--judging by the penmanship, I'll guess boys around first grade--wrote that they missed their dead father, these boys being brothers. There are these ceremonies--in fact, a story in If You [ ] features one--where Chinese lanterns are set out over a lake or pond for those that have been lost. It's a piece of wood, with four spindles, and the spindles are wrapped in the paper which you write something on, and you put a candle in middle. After my dad died, I used to go out to Forest Hills for their lantern ceremony. The paper somehow ended up in the paddock. The woman knew the story behind the paper. So what she did was take to Instagram and try to shame these two little boys for littering. I bet you anything she has all of the right social media filters, is sure to tell you whose lives matter. Maybe not. But I wouldn't take that bet. You know that little kid "I can barely print my name" writing? It was that writing. That's some kind of sick, man. And people can strike all of the poses they wish, but far more people are like that woman than not.


I pitched something on Hendrix, came up with more op-ed ideas.


Have listened to this ten times today. Beautiful. If you listen at :48, there's an extra beat--it's a rhythmic bump. The Carter Family featured this in their 1927 original, but most artists omit it.



My old friend is having more tough times. His father is not doing well. Had to go to the hospital. Now that his wife is gone, my old friend thinks his father is not long for this world. He says it a bunch.


C: What did they say?


OF: bronchitis


C: Did they administer COVID test


OF: Yeah. It was negative


C: So that's good. They probably gave him antibiotics or steroid or something


C: Try not to deal in "not long for this world"


C: Your father's mental health should be your biggest concern


C: He will need structure and purpose and people


OF: Yes


OF: He was refusing any meds


C: Because of God?


OF: No


OF: Just doesn't want to


OF: Agreed to take antibiotics


C: What didn't he agree to?


OF: Steroid


C: That's fucking stupid


OF: He's giving up


C: Put pressure on him


OF: I am


C: Be a dick if you need to be. Use your kids as leverage and for guilt


OF: With Jeremy and now her he doesn't care anymore


C: I get it


C: But right now isn't always


C: It's right now and it's understandable. That's why you have to be a martinet