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2001-09-07 || 1:38 p.m. || larry and the turning point || larry has to leave in a half hour but he sits at a bench with me to smoke. i offer my lighter but he has one and i return to my book. he has to leave in a half hour to go to carl's jr. to get a coffee. in about a half hour. he has a dollar to buy a cup of coffee. (i wonder if i will become like this, cancel out the voids that have taken up the space of days by assigning appointments: 2:00 i will take a bus to carl's jr. 4:30 i will walk the length of san pablo avenue from 25th to the casino on san pablo dam rd. 7:00 i will wake up to take the 43 bus to the park to watch twenty-five pigeons scatter and re-assemble on black top. keeping busy, keeping track down to the hour. not looking listlessly at other people, except for the occasional breaks on college campuses.) he says he will turn 59 in october. 59. fifty-nine. and the next year he will be sixty. he takes off his baseball cap and smooths his hair. does he look like he's 59? more like 38? fifty-nine. he looks at my book. it feels like he is trying to pull the words off the page to read them. he asks if i have ever read the turning point. he doesn't know who wrote it. it came out about ten years ago. there are words in it that aren't in the dictionary. a book full of words not in the dictionary. the turning point. he doesn't know who wrote it. the best book he ever read. the turning point. about america. it came out about ten years ago. a very good book. i put my book in my bag and sit with him for a minute. i tell him happy early birthday. he says thank you and asks my name. we shake hands and his hand is soft in mine. loose. he says his name is larry. he will be fifty-nine. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |