PFK1 (33 page)

pretty unaffected. Her and Mario appear well suited.

Found a new Bukowski book in Eugene – Women. It’s his brand

new latest latest. It’s also a scream. I’m getting a big kick out of

reading it.

Megan is supposed to be back right after the first. So she says. I

wish I knew what the fuck was going on.

I think I’m getting a cold. Goodnight.

* * * *

December 30, 1978

Another lazy afternoon in the land of sand and sea. It’s real cold at

Harry’s house but there is nowhere else to go. At least there is a great

210

football game on the tube. Dallas is battling the wild card Atlanta

Falcons. They are going at it tooth and nail.

Ohio State football coach Woody Hayes went insane last night on

TV. I couldn’t believe what I saw – Woody punching a defensive

back who had intercepted Ohio State’s QB during the Gator Bowl.

He actually slugged the kid on the sideline.

The poor man has finally lost his marbles. Woody is old and, I

suspect, in somewhat poor health. Moreover, his Win Win Win sports

mentality has evidently finally done him in.

The poor, poor man. What a terrible way to go out. Why do they

take this game so seriously? Sure, you want to play hard and

definitely you want to win but hey, if you don’t it’s not the end of the

world. It’s only a football game.

There is always sex, ya know.

Well, maybe not for Woody.

Whoa, Roger Staubach just got clobbered. Oh man, he was really

decked. What a fucking hit he took.

The game of football is dangerous and violent. That’s why I love

it. A sport is not truly a sport unless a crippling injury is a constant

possibility.

Clarice is still supposed to be moving her scrawny little ass out of

the house, perhaps by tomorrow. Can’t come too soon for me. Nick

says he plans to buy a second-hand color TV so we can host a Super

Bowl party next month.

Been reading Bukowski over and over again and thinking about

sponsoring a poetry reading for him. I think that would be a

goddamned wonderful idea. Nick also thinks having a poetry reading

would be a good idea too. He’s all for it and says he can get Kim

Stafford.

Planning to send
The Dark City
out again soon. I’ll keep trying,

although I’m not sure people are swift enough to understand my sense

of humor. Sometimes I don’t understand it myself, so I suppose that’s

inevitable.

Whoa, Dallas just tied it, 20-20. Now it’s anybody’s game. I’m

rooting for Atlanta. Can you believe it? No sooner do I leave Atlanta

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than they get a great QB in Steve Bartkowski and field a really good

team.

Goddamn. That fucking Ed "Too Tall" Jones just laid out

Bartkowski. Really pancaked him. Sheeeit.

Constantly, I think about Megan. Trying to force myself not to

write about her. She is supposed to be back soon. She is not here yet.

Hope she doesn’t get caught in the weather.

Another winter storm arrived like a sonofabitch yesterday.

212

January 3, 1979

Thinking about maybe building a house on the coast. Pretty sure I

could get financing through FmHA. The question is whether I want to

stay here. Megan goes back and forth on me. She returned on New

Year’s Eve but would not spend the night with me, giving no

explanation.

I didn’t press her because I was stoned on mushrooms at the time

and frankly her emotional indecision seemed insignificant compared

to the awesome vastness of the universe and the incomprehensible

endlessness of time.

So I just smiled and nodded.

She refused to take any mushrooms and left shortly after

conducting a tour of the house. Nick’s former marital home is a

beautiful place down by the river and is just a couple of blocks away

from Harry’s. Megan really seems to like it a lot.

So the upshot is that I’m afraid to settle here because it would

require me to remain in town. Without Megan, I have no reason to

stay. There you have it.

Definitely sending
The Dark City
out again. I have nothing to lose

but the price of postage.

Nick found a large TV (color) so we can watch football. He says

he was never much interested in the sport before but my enthusiasm is

contagious. Now Nick is a big Dallas Cowboys fan, the fucker.

Planning on going to Salem on Saturday for union and DemoRat

Party business. Probably will see Clarice there, as she got a job

working for Dale Ireland, a state senator from Douglas County. I

think he is her new boyfriend.

"Hello, Clarice," I will say, "I really like your house." Might as

well. I have to hand it to her, though, she kept the place in tip-top

shape.

Talent considerations aside, the difference between F. Scott

Fitzgerald and me is that Scott got his first novel published and I have

213

not. Scott was indeed a lucky guy. Apparently they don’t make

editors like Max Perkins anymore. Too bad.

I’ve been sending that goddamn pile of shit out for ten months now

and nary a nibble.

Damn.

Perhaps I am too ambitious with too little talent to back it up. I

want to change the world. I want to usher in the end of human

childhood. I want to see us venture into the realm of space.

The universe is like the ocean and our spacecraft are wooden ships.

We must break free from the bonds of our small planet and explore

other worlds.

Physically, I mean.

Meanwhile,
The Dark City
shuffles along slowly. It seems less a

novel than the working out of a nagging psychological problem that

besets me.

The story is ugly and brutal.

Did I mention that I stayed with Lenny Goldfarb and his wife

DeeDee the night their baby was born at home? It was quite an

experience, hanging out with the midwife and the proud parents. I

even saw the birth itself. Unbelievable.

DeeDee I must say was magnificent. What a trouper. Too bad

Lenny is such a shithead to DeeDee’s daughter Brinn by her first

marriage. Lenny obviously hates Brinn. My opinion is that Lenny is

a jealous, self-absorbed jerk. Brinn seems like a really great twelve

year old girl and Lenny’s attitude toward her is just unforgivable.

But that’s another story. The birth of Leonard Junior was

absolutely riveting. Children are wonderful, in my opinion.

They are just great.

However, it is unlikely that I will have children myself. There is no

woman in my life I trust enough to take that step with. The trust has

got be there.

How would I handle it if she flaked out the way Leanne did? Or

pulled away abruptly (and viciously) like the other one did? Or worst

of all, turned into lazy, drug-addled parasite like my mother? I’d go

out of my mind.

214

Believe me. I’ll be the first to admit that men are no prize. Myself,

for example. I hate most men with an abiding passion. What

assholes. On the other hand, women also have their faults, the first of

which is that they are unwilling to admit to having any.

Most of the women I have known go forward laboring under the

delusion that they are perfect. It can make their company quite

tiresome, even with the lubricant of sex.

Work isn’t so bad now that I have more or less decided to get the

fuck out of here at the earliest opportunity.

* * * *

January 6, 1979

Union notes:

ER Committee – need to strengthen the union.

Organize Health & Sciences Center, Dept. Of Revenue – 100

people in three buildings. No first aid, no cots to lay down on.

Only the squeaky wheel gets the grease.

Smokers allowed to pollute indoor work areas. Management

smokers free to puff away, causing hardship to employees with

respiratory problems.

Safety

Accessibility

Shop Stewards

Employee Freedom

Personal Responsibility

Negotiation team needs direction on policy issues

Next meeting January 27, 1979

Enough.

Planning to visit John Thomas and McNeese later today. John has

gotten a job working for State Rep. Wally Priestley. The Portland

newspaper editors hate Wally for being such a wild-eyed radical.

It is so much like John to be working for Wally. Personally, I think

the world of Wally because he is the only honest man in the whole

fucking capitol. Even more to my liking, he defeated that twerp Bill

Whitehead in the 1978 primary election.

215

Tonight John and Dave are planning to smoke dope and go see
The

Rocky Horror Picture Show
. I told them I would pass. I finally saw

Rocky
last year at the Clinton Street Theater and thought the movie

was kinda dumb.

Oh sure, Susan Sarandon is definitely a double plus fox, a woman I

would have to describe as eminently fuckable. But the thought of

spending ninety minutes looking at that scrag Tim Curry again is

extremely unappealing.

Whenever Rocky played at the Clinton Street the place was always

packed. Although the women looked awfully darned cute in their

vamp outfits, once around with Tim Curry was more than plenty for

me.

* * * *

January 9, 1979

What a world. Work burns all of my time and energy and ideas for

writing just go by the board.

Chesley called today. It was good to hear his voice. He says he is

"happy" with his girlfriend Shirley and is correspondingly smug. I

find it odd that Chesley has taken up with the same woman that Randy

committed adultery with but mutual desperation makes strange

bedfellows. If Chesley is happy, I am happy for him. But I got a bad

feeling about it.

I keep trying to chase the ghosts from my heart but the effort is

fruitless. They are haunting me always. I am a product of my past,

pure and simple. I am pretty sure Megan could make them disappear

in a flash, but she has suddenly gone cold.

I say goody for her.

Should I complain? I suppose not. No one has been more

inconstant in love affairs than yours truly. Still, I am fairly young at

27 and have my job, my good health, and undeniable intelligence.

What else do I need?

Someone to love and be loved by.

That escapes me.

* * * *

January 10, 1979

216

At work. Slow day. The things I must do are unbearably dull and

routine, so I am putting them off. The branch manager and her

stooges are in a panic, though. Mavis actually filed her Department of

Labor complaint against them. The notice must have arrived today.

I mean really. They have exactly one non-white working in this

whole office and they kick her out for no good reason? What the hell

are we supposed to make of that?

Mavis was a temporary CETA employee so she has no union

recourse but as I explained to her just before Christmas, this

discrimination complaint is almost as good. The union is practically

worthless anyhow. I feel like telling them I helped Mavis write it. In

fact, I wrote the whole damn thing for her.

I told her what the options were. Then Mavis told me what to do

and I did it, running every word by her.

Everything they did to her was wrong. They did it because she

became friendly with Dale Jones, the investigator, whom they hate.

But Mavis was a good employee and a hard worker, unlike that moron

Elmore who can’t even tie his shoes.

I find it extremely gratifying that they are now locked in the

manager’s office and looking pretty sick. Serves them right, the mean

old biddies.

Megan is being completely standoffish. She hardly speaks to me.

You’d never guess by looking at her that just three weeks ago we

were in bed, making love like there was no tomorrow.

I can feel the axe coming down.

I have no idea what she is thinking anymore. I have no clue as to

what I have done wrong, if anything.

* * * *

January 15, 1979

Four days ago Megan told me that our affair is over because she

and Mark are getting back together. It is goodbye, Patrick, nice

knowing you. Wham. Like a kick in the stomach. I am too pissed to

do anything but drink and puff on Marlboros, which I am happy to

report I have started smoking again.

I am too bitter for tears.