Archive for friends

Poem

There is a sweetness in your eyes / that makes me want to give up gambling and yoga – the opening lines of “RENOUNCE,” by Jonathan Mayhew, part of his erudite and entertaining “bad poems” series.

Scott Brown

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He really was one of the best.

Lorraine Marshall

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My old friend Lorraine passed away in her sleep yesterday. We worked together closely in the late ’80s and early ’90s, at Prometheus Books, where she was the Marketing Director. She was very funny (and very thoughtful); she was lovely.

Her Facebook page had this Lou Reed quote on it: “There’s a bit of magic in everything, and then some loss to even things out.”

Family and friends

The holiday season was extra busy for me, with lots of family and friends visiting B.C. One consequence has been the slim pickings here at basil.CA and on my other online platforms.

Lots of eating activity, though, was accomplished over the break. Below is a photograph taken by the wonderful Lincoln Clarkes of Alie Sokol, Dr. Miles Basil, and me at The Flying Pig in Gastown a couple of weeks ago.

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Sociability

From Clarissa’s blog:

Sociability is difficult not because it’s hard to socialize but because I never know if my sociability switch will turn on at any given time. When I approach people or people approach me, there are two possible scenarios:

  1. Sociability switch flips, and I become the most charming, gregarious, exciting person ever.
  2. Sociability switch decides to remain inactive and I feel intolerable boredom. I can try to conceal it but the boredom is overwhelming.

The bad part is that I can’t predict when each scenario will unfold. I don’t suffer from not knowing how to engage with people or how to make small talk. I’m actually great at it because I don’t understand the concept of worrying what people think about me. What I do suffer from is frequent and uncontrollable attacks of not wanting to engage.

It feels very weird when in the middle of a conversation I lose all interest and become extremely bored but not because of anything the other person said or did.

It’s equally disturbing when I open my mouth and all of a sudden this very charming, talkative persona appears.

Poetic aspersion

My friend Kat once described a guy this way: “He has a pickle shoved so far up his butt that it makes him hiccup dill.” That still cracks me up.

All around

A most vivid memory is of smoking cigarettes and drinking shots and beers together at the end of the bar at the Pink Flamingo in 1990 or thereabouts, separating ourselves from the crowds of our friends who were dancing around and arguing and comparing writing and painting and film projects and basically loving one another. By our proximity we were loving them, too.

With no relief Penny was obstreperous – and fun to be around, as far as I was concerned. (I liked tough women.) An old pal walked over to me and tried to warn me away from her. I was too drunk to move, but wouldn’t have anyway. At night’s end, a friend of a friend got me home, safe and sound. A happy memory, all around.

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