Sunday and All is Well in the Hinterlands!

Wow, another gorgeous morning!

And look what happened yesterday, as I was leaving for town. The lawncare guy and his friends got started a day early. (See yesterday’s post.)

I don’t have a before photo, but here are a few photos he took during and after. They did a fantastic job. However, the asphalt underneath was just too ruined to be worth saving, so I’m not sure what my neighbor and I will do about the basketball hoop. But I’m thrilled to have all those weeds and the dead tree GONE. After 7 years.

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And I did get to chat briefly with Wayne after I got home from my shift yesterday. He absolutely LOVED Cambodia. He’d been there before, briefly, but this trip was just a great one. And he loves the people there. He said they are warm and kind and very, very sweet.

A total success.

Wayne and some new friends in Cambodia, back in July

Each summer, for the past 5 years or so, Wayne has flown to the Far East for his summer vacations. I cannot even imagine being in a plane that long anymore.

Loyal readers of this lofty blog — those who have been with me since the 5G War, when I was considered a “Domestic Terrorist” and so refused to fly anywhere, let alone even leave town in my car — know that I am only recently getting back to being okay about flying. (When I wasn’t arrested in Toronto, I finally let myself breathe and knew for sure the war was over.)

But I really only have an interest in going to NYC these days. Overseas, even back to Europe, I just don’t know, gang.

Perhaps you recall that the last time I flew to Paris (for a book signing), I left Paris rather suddenly, changing my plans at the last minute, and I flew into the Exeter airport in Devon, instead of to London. And I was held there in that little airport in Exeter by Customs for “questioning.”

It was extremely uncomfortable. I knew exactly what the Customs guys were looking at on their computer screens — my FBI record.

THEM: “What were you doing in Paris?”

ME: “I had a book signing.”

THEM: “Exactly what kind of writer are you?”

I played dumb and picked a harmless story and stuck to it — “I just write romances, nothing important.”

And I stuck to it and stuck to it and stuck to it because they kept asking me that same question over and over and over….

THEM (finally asking a new question): “What are you planning to do while you’re here?”

ME (just prior to receiving my Oscar nomination): “Just visiting some friends.”

I left out the part about the friends being war exiles from Dubrovnik and ex-pat Australian journalists wanted for questioning in Beirut, Lebanon…

And as soon as they let me go and I got to Bristol, said friends/colleagues assured me I’d be followed on those CCTV cameras everywhere I went…

Yes, being a world-renowned pornographer erotica writer/editor/publisher/producer has had its heady perks!

Anyway. I’m still not thrilled with the idea of going through Customs if I don’t absolutely have to for (what’s left of) the “career.”

But one happy thing Wayne said yesterday is that as soon as I finish the draft of The Curse of Our Profound Disorder, he wants to read it!!

So, that is really cool!! It gives me that impetus to complete the novel before I’m 91 years old…

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Before I forget–

Phil continued his PHAPP Q & A on his telegram page yesterday. Click this LINK and then scroll and scroll and scroll!

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I had such a great time with my favorite now-95-year-old Japanese man yesterday.

I had brought him a birthday card that he seemed to absolutely LOVE, gang. It kind of astounded me. He kept re-reading it all afternoon, he held it to his heart several times. He even kissed it a few times. And, occasionally, he would look at the card, look at me, and say: “You’re Marilyn, right? You gave me this card? Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

It really was kind of incredible.

And today, is officially his birthday.

And in the endless series of coincidences revolving around him and me — I realized that today is the anniversary of the death of a man who was a very close friend of my family’s — an artist, from back in Cleveland, he meant the world to me. He would have been 92 now, had he lived.

If you’re keeping track of the tons of coincidences– my dad and the Japanese man were born 4 weeks apart, in 1930; separated by 500 miles, vastly different cultures, and ultimately, the Second World War. But in the 1960s, they attended the same annual electronics convention in Chicago. The Japanese man’s 2nd wife (a war exile from Latvia — my adoptive maternal grandparents, in Cleveland, were also exiles from Latvia), died on the same day that my dad died, but in different years. And the Japanese man’s dad, my dad, and I all had birthdays close together (very different years! 1870, 1930, and 1960).

And now it turns out that one of the most profound father-figures from my childhood died on my favorite Japanese man’s birthday.

It’s too weird, gang. I’m guessing some day I’ll write about it, if only to try to figure it all out.

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There were some beautiful photos of the Macedonia concert from Friday night on Instagram this morning. Same photographer, Stefan Rajhi, took all the photos, but I’ll only post a few of them here:

The tour continues in 2 weeks, in Germany. But tickets are sold out.

And while we wait… here’s this. Another one of my favorite photos ever. Nick with his son Luke:

And here’s this — the “lullaby” Nick wrote in 1991, after the birth of Luke, while living in Brazil during very turbulent political times:

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And I think I’m going to close this now and enjoy what’s left of this gorgeous morning before heading out later to see the retired Minister and his lovely wife!

Have a beautiful Sunday, wherever you are in the world!!

Thanks for visiting.

I love you guys. See ya!

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Driving-to-town music from yesterday!!

Everyone’s gone now, right? All of the NY Dolls are gone now. Jim Carroll’s gone. Lou Reed. Mink DeVille. David Bowie. Marc Bolan.

I miss all of these guys but, wow, such great memories remain….

Anyway, I still rejoice when this song comes on my driving-to-town playlist!! From those incredible days when I worked at the Museum of Modern Art in NYC —

David Johansen aka “Buster Poindexter” — “Hot Hot Hot” 1987. Rejoice and enjoy, gang!!

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