People seem very anxious. The extent of Reagan’s victory – and the Republicans’ sweep of the Senate – has surprised even the conservatives; some liberals are still shell-shocked. People who never talk about politics are now talking about politics, and that seems to me the worst sign of all.
Seeing Woody Allen and Mia Farrow just a couple of feet away from us in the bookstore made me and Josh feel strange. It’s like they should exist in another dimension from ordinary people. But then, as Josh pointed out, they looked just like everyone else – only less happy.
On Tuesday, Pete’s reading with Tuli Kupferberg and others at the Mudd Club, but it starts too late for me to go. When I told Pete I was moving to Florida and giving up academia and the literary life, he said, “Oh, I suspect you’ll be writing there.” I guess he’s right. It’s in the blood and all that.
We got a cab to take us to the Sheraton Centre for the New York Press Club’s annual Byline Ball. Arriving just as the cocktail hour was breaking up, we headed for our table, where we sat with the head of the Parking Violations Bureau and his wife.
Lauren was crossing Santa Monica Boulevard looking for the perfect pair of shoes when some guy in a Corvette shouted at her, for no reason, “Fuck you, Blondie clone!”
Right now I feel really creepy, like I’m not myself but some creature from another planet, an alien being. In a way I wish I could have gone with Wolfgang last night, traveling across America for the next few weeks.
I met my Veterans Outreach class, most of whom failed the CUNY Writing Assessment Test and thus the course, at least once before. I even have some of my old students from the spring of 1979. That means they failed with me and maybe twice more last year.
In Chelsea, I was surrounded by poor people, mostly black and Hispanic. It made me feel funny to be among them, but I think I understand the indignity of accepting government assistance a little better. My food stamp card is almost like a badge of honor: it says I’ve been down and out, too.
He called me a bastard for not calling him and said I could make up for it by going with him to a Cosmos soccer game this evening; I told him I would.
Josh said she was even more beautiful than before. He walked her to the car where her husband was waiting but didn’t want to meet the guy. “I felt like a fool, mostly because of the letters I sent her trying to get back after we broke up,” Josh said.