Posted by trules in academia, american culture, art from the fabric of my life, clay the dog, clint eastwood, college graduation, death, family, frank capra, hip, it's a wonderful life, los angeles, movies, solo performance, students, teaching
on May 24th, 2013 |
may 17, 2013
beware. this is a story of curmudgeonliness turning into beatitude.
let’s start with the first.
it’s the merry month of may. time for college graduations. i never go.
never went to my own, never will. you know the routine: 1969… the me generation, protest, stick it to the man. my parents made me go to the college i never wanted to go to, just to save the dough. i certainly wasn’t gonna go to make them happy. i was socially inept, volcanic, and generally, i had a hard time making it out of adolescence. i didn’t need a diploma, recognition from an institution i didn’t respect. i...
Posted by trules in academia, ageing, american culture, annihilation, art, art from the fabric of my life, baby boomers, bobos, charlie chaplin, culture, death, dieing, gardening, gratitude and appreciation, griffith observatory, jews, life, los angeles, lucretia gardens, nightmares, pacific ocean, san gabriel mountains, teaching, theater, when i'm 64, wizard of oz
on Feb 21st, 2012 |
look to the right, exactly 90 degrees from the terraced hillside back deck of lucretia gardens, and there are — the san gabriel mountains — gently looming over the hazy glendale flats. turn 180 degrees back to the left and there’s — the glassy silver rim of the pacific ocean, dividing the big sky of another multi-colored california sunset from the slightly high-rise sprawl of snarky century city and the equally-hazy flats of LA’s toney west side. turn back another 90 degrees to the right, and there, straight ahead, is the white dome of the griffith observatory, the shrubby...
Posted by trules in ageing, american culture, beatles, culture, death, dieing, friendship, gardening, life, los angeles, old friends, vegetables, when i'm 64
on Sep 14th, 2011 |
one of the true, inalienable gifts of the end of summer is the harvesting of home grown garden tomatoes. bright red, succulent, juicy-delicious, it’s a gift that actually comes in all shapes, colors, and sizes: the omnipresent heirloom, the muscular beefsteak, the green zebra, fuzzy peach, red boar, the hillbilly, grape, plum, campari, even the diminutive cherry. all can be planted easily in the spring, watered abundantly through the brunt of summer, and ultimately & gloriously harvested, often, thru the end of september. personally, i can’t think of anything much more satisfying than...
Posted by trules in academia, ageing, american culture, anger, art from the fabric of my life, college coeds, committee on unamerican activities, los angeles, rage-aholic
on Jun 14th, 2011 |
most of my friends, and probably all of my enemies, think i have an easy job. cushy. secure. even… lucky. i teach theater, something i still love and am passionate about, at a major university in southern california. i’ve been doing it for a quarter of a century: 17 years as an “adjunct”, 8 years as a full time professor. i don’t have tenure, never will, but somehow my contract seems to get renewed every year. i like to think that it has something to do with the fact that i’m a good teacher, i teach something valuable, self expression & creativity, and perhaps i make a difference in...
Posted by trules in ageing, american culture, art from the fabric of my life, beatles, cops, culture, friendship, homeboys, john lennon, LA airport, LAPD, los angeles, officer krupke, old friends, provocateur, rage-aholic, road rage, west side story, when i'm 64
on May 11th, 2011 |
i’m a civilized man. intelligent, educated, compassionate, even, some might say, sophisticated in the ways of the world. i’ve traveled a good deal of the planet, survived cancer; i have a good job at a major university, i married for the 1st time at 54 years old; hell, i have a lot to be grateful for. then why, oh why, dear shiva-allah-buddha-yaweh-whoever the fuck is in charge, is my goddam temper still on a such a short leash, threatening to explode in the most unpredictable, humiliating, and inopportune times? am i a fool? or am i just cursed?
it’s a good day. the boys are in town for my...