July 11th, 2004

I haven't aged a bit

Nostalgia ... &sp;(like, wow, man)

Spent maybe 5 hours (or more) today cleaning the office: organizing, tossing and filing.

And stumbled across a notebook, red background, with a picture of Snoopy and Woodstock, "Big Snoopy Tablet," it was labelled. Above that, I had printed "Diary" in block letters; below, more sloppy, I wrote, ""Diaria, Ha-Hi." Below Schutz's signature are 5 attempts to copy it.


Well, the paper is newsprint and showing its age. In the interests of posterity, therefore, Collapse )

And that's it, that's all.

I don't know about you, but I found it ... interesting.

Note: Interjections in square brackets are editorial comments.

[1] I am pretty sure that was the most painful experience of my life (worse than when I fractured my leg). I remember screaming with pain as we drove to the hospital.

[2] I have absolutely no memory of this whatsoever; strangely, I do remember taking swimming lessons when I was in kindergaten or grade 1 and living in Quebec.

[3] You can easily see that my (shall we say?) propensity for parenthetical remarks came to me at a very early age. (Unlike my unhappy case of full-blown pomposity.)

[4] Maki's: a garage that served as a transfer-point at which those of us (my brother and I) who lived out in the wilds would debark the long-bus in favour of a converted Econoline van whose young driver was no doubt a pot-head and who terrified us - well, me: Tom often seemed fearless - by driving way to fast along the narrow dirt road. But I digress. One of the guys at Maki's took a liking to me. He was one of those grown-ups who really like kids - at least, some kids. In any case, he liked me; I can remember chatting with him "man to man", as it were. I don't remember thinking of it that way, of course; he just seemed like a nice guy. Anyway, he also at some point gifted me with maybe a dozen (2 dozen? 6? Who knows anymore - more than 1) science fiction paperpacks, a couple of which are still in my posession. Did you know Lawrence M. Janifer was still writing up until 3 or 4 years ago?

[5] Nope. Don't remember that, either.

[6] And, no doubt, because "grandmas" house was blessed with such amenities as running water and electricity (though not, as it happens, with toilet or bathing facilities).

[7] Jesus. We really were poor!

[8] Technically my mother's cousin, Karina was (and remains) about 6 months older than I am. We played together, but - I suspect, with the benefit of hindshight - that we didn't really like each other. As kids will (and as will adults, in the context of work, for example), I think we were "close" because there was no one else around. In any event, our fights were frequent, and sometimes rather violent.

[9] Can this be true? I vaguelly recall delivering - or trying to sell? - copies of True North; I remember a few late nights at his office downtown; but translating? And what were those odd jobs?

[10] Who must wonder: what could the boy who wrote this have seen in the Wyndham's The Midwhich Cuccoos? But on second thought, it is far easier to experience a thing than it is to express it.

[11] Son of a bitch. "Here" must refer to the apartment got in town when she left my father - though the subsequent sentence makes me wonder.
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