1. Friday, June 27, 2003

    my second favorite magazine Rock Illustrated apparently reads the busblog hourly 

    waiting for me to update throughout the day and was curious about some of the things that i was writing about yesterday.

    they asked me if i could write “straight”. and the woman who was asking me this, i think was considering me to write for her one day. and i said of course i could write “straight”.

    she asked me why i didnt in my blog.

    i told her that it was because i was afraid that all the people who read it currently would go away. but then i retracted that and said that its not as much fun for me to write that way.

    i explained that it was a lot like pitching in baseball. if you have a guy who can throw a great curveball and a great knuckler and a great split-finger pitch, “junk” as the pundits call it, you really dont need a 90 mph fastball.

    to which she argued that if i could master that fastball it would appear to be a 98 mph one in comparison to that “great” sweeping 75 mph curve.

    and i agreed with her.

    and then there was silence on the phone.

    and then i said, so how many pitchers and writers do you know with great “junk” and a great fastball?

    and she said none.

    and i said thats why im working on my spitter.

    man was mumbling on the bus behind me today in spanish. i kept hearing a click after he would say whatever it was that he was saying.

    silly me, i thought that he was talking into a tape recorder to capture his insights as we bounced down wilshire blvd.

    when i got up to get off the bus i saw that his head was up against the glass, his eyes were closed and all along he had been talking to himself in his sleep and his dentures were clicking.

    it was really nice driving karisas mr2 when we drove home last night in the dark and steamy night through the valley.

    i shared this with her and she told me that i really need a car and i said i didnt agree with her.

    she said, but you could go anywhere you want at any time.

    and i said where would i go?

    and she said anywhere.

    and i said all i want to be is in hollywood or on the wessside.

    and she said thats it?

    and i said, well, and with you, of course.

    and she smiled and a twinkle glimmered in her eye and like a shot we were through the valley and almost home.

    jaime leigh + earth-info + brit coal