Thursday, December 16, 2010

The Third One

Well for The Third One there are no pictures, so I will try to do a good job describing things for you, but not really in a visual way because that would take too long. What was missing was Chris Ferrera, for legitimate and human reasons, and so in place of what surely would have been a moving--and dare I say quirky EWW I SAID IT--slideshow presentation of her grandparents' supper club called Cave of the Winds, I filled time by reading my favorite story from Calvino's Cosmicomics, All at One Point. I thought it timely because there was all that talk that week about the arsenic-eating organisms and how they were aliens, which I don't believe even though of course I believe in aliens--to me they seem like every other extremophile but apparently it has something to do with...something...I can't remember now. This is why I would make a bad astronaut. Conveniently, I am also afraid of space. It would be great to think that I am afraid of space by virtue of my poor astronaut qualities--natural selection in reverse. But anyway.

Katie Brennan

Katie Brennan went first, and I know she was nervous (because she told me), and I figured she would Show&Tell something about her scars (presumably the big ones on her head (because she sort of told me that, too)). What I didn't know but I guess really I did or I wouldn't have asked her to do S&T in the first place is how humble she is. Her adult life, as far as I can tell, has been spent amongst Baltimore's finest eccentrics and freak shows and restaurants and behind-the-scenes scenes. Then she goes and has all these aneurysms and clumps of bleeding things and brain surgeries. So Katie has this generous idea to Show&Tell her scars and then ask people to do the same. There were good stories about tailpipes falling down and pots of spaghetti and a guy getting his acne blown off by a cherry bomb. But what people really wanted to hear about was Katie, and so she told us a little about her brain and passed around images for us to look at. Her head and the hardware within look like a mechanized petri dish of pond water, which of course I mean in the most amazed way. I think we could have asked her questions all night, and one of the main ones probably would have been, "Are you the same now as you were before?" which of course is impossible to answer; or, the answer for everyone, after every breaking and mending, would be, "No, and I wouldn't want to be." I'm about 90% sure that scars imply hope, or at the very least, resolution.

We didn't take an intermission.

Rupert Wondolowski

Rupert. Rupert Wondolowski. I told the story about how I hit Rupert's car in front of Normal's before I knew him, and he tried his best but in the end had to call my insurance company, and I got dropped. That is how I learned to take the bus in Baltimore, like 7 years ago or so. Then we became friends, and out in the middle of Prettyboy Reservoir he said, "Hey, remember a few years ago when you hit some guy's car..." Another time we watched this movie called Uzumaki, which is REALLY weird and freaky. Mostly, though, Rupert was always good to me, and gave me a painting, and made me feel important. At 25 I did not know how to receive such things, and at 30 I am only slightly better at maintaining friendships, and so when I do talk to Rupert and see him read it is a sparkly treat indeed. Let me tell you about that.

Rupert read Chapters 1 & 2 of the novel he wrote at the age of 11 (I think?), called GANG FIGHT! It was nothing short of mind-bogglingly hysterical and formative--for Rupert, surely, but also for us in terms of our understanding of him. This book was all action, literally. There was like no description at all. There was action, and blood, and corrupt teachers, and lamps. I really hope Rupert decides to either publish GANG FIGHT serially or do it online or something. An illustrated version would be orgasmic. Apparently his teacher at the Catholic school had ol' Rupe read from the novel as an ongoing thing, and kids were rapt. It got passed around and pages were lost. I love to think of people stumbling across a loose page when they move to a new house or go through file boxes. Probably my favorite part of the story was the benevolence of an accessory character, who lends the protagonist $20 to cover his hospital bill, before they really know each other. In the story I'm pretty sure $20 covered the hospital stay (after a stabbing and subsequent group unconsciousness) and a blood transfusion, but I can't be sure.

So this S&T felt personal and cozy, especially because of how cold it was outside, and there were a bunch of new faces and old faces I haven't seen in a while. I liked that it was casual and also I think I set up the chairs closer together, so I inadvertently squished people, which is never really bad. This isn't the best writeup, I know, sorry.