Of course, I may die in the next ten minutes
and I'm ready for that
but what I'm really worried about is
that my editor - publisher might retire
even though he is ten years younger than
I.
it was just 25 years ago (i was at the ripe old age
of 45)
when we began our unholy alliance to
test the literary waters
neither of us being much
known
I think we had some luck and still had some
of same
yet
the odds are pretty fair
that he will opt for warm and pleasant
afternoons
in the garden
long before I
writing is its own intoxication
while publishing and editing
attempting to collect bills
carries its own attrition
which also includes dealing with bitchings and demands
of many
so - called genius darlings who are
not
I wont blame him for getting
out
and hope he sends me photos of his
Rose Lane, his
Gardenia ave
will I have to seek other
promulgators?
that fellow in the Russian
fur hat?
or that beast in the East
with all that hair
in his ears, with those wet and
greasy lips
or will my editor - publisher
upon exiting for that world of Trollius and
trellis
hand over the
machinery
of his former trade to a
cousin a
daughter or
Some Poundian from Big
Sur
or will he just pass the legacy on
to the
Shipping Clerk
who will rise like
Lazarus,
fingering new found importance
one can imagine terrible
things:
" Mr Chinaski, all your work
must now be submitted in
Rondo form
and
typed
triple - spaced on rice
paper "
power corrupts
life aborts
and all you
have left
is a
bunch of
warts
"no no Mr Chinaski
Rondo form !"
"haven't you heard of the thirties?"
" the thirties? what's that?"
My present editor - publisher
and I
at times
did discuss the thirties
the Depression
and
some of the little tricks it
taught us -
like how to endure on almost
nothing
and move forward
anyhow
well, John, if it happens enjoy your
divertissement to
plant husbandry
cultivate and erate between
bushes water only in the
early morning, spread
shredding to discourage
weed growth
and as I do in my writing
use plenty of
manure
and thank you
for locating me there at
5142 DeLongpre Avenue
somewhere between alcoholism and
madness
together we
laid down the gauntlet
and there are takers
even at this late date
still to be found
as the fire sings
through the
trees
:-)
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