Excerpts

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"I'd like to rest my heavy head tonight/ On a bed of California stars."

For those of us suffering through frigid climates, I came up with the warm-weather excerpt. I found this passage from Charles Bukowski’s novel, Hollywood, in an anthology called Los Angeles Stories: Great Writers on the City. It concerns the efforts of his doppelgänger (Chinaski) to buy a house after years of drifting, drinking, brawling and writing.

“Finally after a few weeks of house hunting, we found the one. After the down payment the monthly payments came to $789.81. There was a huge hedge in front on the street and the yard was also in front so the house sat way back on the lot. It looked like a good place to hide. There was even a stairway, an upstairs with a bedroom, bathroom and what was to become typing room. And there was an old desk left in there, a huge ugly old thing. Now, after decades, I was a writer with a desk. Yes, I felt the fear, the fear of becoming like them. Worse, I had an assignment to write a screenplay. Was I doomed and damned, was I about to be sucked dry? I didn’t feel it would be that way. But does anybody, ever?” Read the rest of this entry »

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Hard Times An Oral History of the Great Depression by Studs TerkelThis excerpt from Hard Times, the late Studs Terkel’s oral history of the Great Depression remembers the last time the U.S. economy was actually worse than it is now. The following passage comes from an interview Terkel conducted with Hiram “Chub” Sherman, a Federal Theatre stage actor making his home in New York City at the beginning of the ’30s.

“It was rock bottom living in New York then. It really was. Cats were left on the streets. There were no signs about restricted parking. (Laughs.) If somebody had a jalopy–a few friends you know would have some old car–it would sit there for months on end neither molested nor disturbed. It would just fall apart from old age. You didn’t count your possessions in terms of money in the bank. You counted on the fact that you had a row of empty milk bottles. Because those were cash. They could be turned in for a nickel deposit, and that would get you on the subway. Two bottles: one could get you uptown, one could get you back.” Read the rest of this entry »

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latetoloveI recently came across It’s Never Too Late to Love, a 1956 Royal Pyramid paperback that cost 35 cents when it first rolled off the presses. This time warp of a book, was published originally in 1953 in the wake of Alfred Kinsey’s two landmark volumes on sexual behavior. It’s written by Anna K. Daniels (“one of the most famous women gynecologists in America”) and has long been out of print. It was something of a clarion call to the reconsideration  of traditional societal and sexual roles that was to come a decade later, even though it seems quaint at best today. An excerpt from the chapter “The Art of Love”:

“The greatest threat to the happiness of long married people is that intercourse will become weary, stale, flat and unprofitable due to a lack of variety. The common position, in which the woman lies on her back and the man on top of her, which many people regard as the only one sanctioned by law, custom and religion, frequently becomes dull and monotonous. Moreover, there is always the danger that the woman’s body will sink too deeply into the bed, due to sagging mattress or springs, and thus lessen the pleasure for both…”

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In “Brian Cashman: Bad Lieutenant,” his scathing Men’s Journal article from April 2009, Matt Taibbi was none too kind to the New York Yankees General Manager:

“The GM of the New York Yankees may be the worst ever at the best job in the world. Which is why he’ll inevitably fail this year in his shameless attempt to buy a World Series.”

Yes, watching the Yankees spend more than gazillions and win the World Series was as soulless an experience as seeing Mike Bloomberg putting a third term as NYC Mayor on his American Express Black Card. But they did win and Taibbi is wrong. He should have eaten some post-Series crow.

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