2 in a Zoo

20 PLAYGROUNDS

20 copies of Playground just arrived.
Look for them in your neighborhood.

haunted radio

I finished reading Jack Kerouc's THE HAUNTED LIFE.
I really enjoyed it. In fact, it takes place at the exact
same summertime moment as my recent 1942 novel!
Lots of beautiful Kerouac poetry in it. Also, he includes
the best description of listening to baseball on the radio
on pages 75-77.

2 books for sale

I just brought two signed copies of SAINT LEMONADE
to The Bureau of Historical Investigation on
217 West Holly Street here in Bellingham.
Hopefully someone will find them.

snow white moth

Saw this moth today
on the cement wall
at the music library

more than one blue moon

For many moons, I've been adding little stories
to my autobiography. Here's one I recently wrote:

MORE THAN ONE BLUE MOON

I used to listen faithfully to a radio station in Maine. 

On summer nights it would play those old 1950s 

songs, do-wop and R&B that I loved. One evening 

while The Everly Brothers were singing, or 

Fats Domino, or Mary Welles, I worked up my 

courage by the telephone. I remember the door 

was open to the porch and the ocean was out there. 

Across the bay the little houses and vehicles were 

dots of reflected water light. It took me two more 

songs to pick up the receiver and dial.

When the DJ answered, I could hear the music 

in the background like the soundtrack of a drive-in 

movie playing with mosquitos in a chrome car 

covered field. I asked if he could play ‘Blue Moon’ 

and he said sure and hung up. That was all it took, 

but I felt instantly at ease again. I could breathe again. 

All I had to do was listen and wait for The Marcels. 

After a commercial break for the horse racetrack

and Mammoth Mart, the DJ returned to the 

microphone and announced the next song was a 

special request and the needle touched the vinyl 

with a rushing crackle. Now, in those days, I did 

think of myself as one of those 1950s teenagers 

I saw in the movies, Diner and American Graffiti. 

I expected a lot from this DJ, you would have thought 

I was a moth caught in the glow of the radio dial. 

Except the song he played wasn’t what I asked for, 

it was ‘Blue Moon of Kentucky’ by Elvis Presley.

Even though Elvis recorded ‘Blue Moon’ in the 

echo chamber of Sun Studios, why didn’t the DJ 

play that instead? Maybe he wanted me to know 

there was more than one blue moon.

haunted book

Just started reading Jack Kerouac's
recently published The Haunted Life.
This book was long considered lost,
the manuscript left in a 1940s
New York taxi. 

the golden age of publishing

I finished reading Tom Robbins’ Tibetan Peach Pie. 

Both he and Kurt Vonnegut mention their gratitude 

to the Golden Age of Publishing when you could 

actually make a living with your writing. (Nowadays 

most journals and contests charge the author to submit 

their work.) Of course I still cling to that Golden Age 

dream of the paid author but that hope is vanishing. 

These are different days. An especially great change 

that has occurred very recently is the ability for the 

author to self-publish. Now I have my own press, 

Good Deed Rain, and I plan to print all those 

long-waiting novels and stories of mine. (Coming up 

next is a collection of 5 novels.) And it’s possible to 

print on demand so I’m not swimming in boxes of 

unsold books. It’s really a wonderful development, 

a new golden age of publishing that I’ve been waiting 

for years to happen—I’m not making a living writing 

but I can see my books published. 

daredevil fly

This poor intrepid fly
tried to speed through
the mesh in our trampoline
...alas, he didn't make it.

ooooooooooooooo

paying for ants

With a weekend full of moths

in our daughter’s room and wasps

in our front yard, all those bugs

remind me of this old story I wrote in 1990.

It’s supposed to read like the voice-over

beginning of one of those old sci-fi movies.

ANT ATTRACTION first appeared in a

self-published collection called PAYING

FOR WATER written in a pretty awful

basement apartment in Seattle.

Ant Attraction

Orwell and Huxley were wrong:

The Future belongs to the ants.

Workers will devote their entire lives to the Queen.

They will fight wars and build vast underground colonies.
Though desert winds will cover the Earth
the dunes will shake and hum with the goings on
underneath. That’s where Wink Thorax has his studio
and beams out his show “Ant Attraction” to eager
millions everywhere. The tunnels jam up every
Wednesday as males try to get on the program
clawing for a chance to be permitted to sit
with the camera and sell themselves

knowing that inside that black, smoked glass booth

sits the Queen. And finally, ever slowly
her jeweled hand will flick out and point to
the winner.