Saturday, March 16, 2013

Date with a Mad Man (?)

I have a date.
Gigi will be joining me on this date after a couple of hours because the fellow involved apparently has a past so checkered that it's against my better judgment to talk to him at all - but that's just because of how he looks on paper.   Given that I've gone out with men who looked great on paper but were disappointing in reality, I figure there's logic in going out with someone who looks awful on paper.  Further, ever since my divorce, the only men I've dated came from internet dating services.  I met this man in real life, and frankly had no idea of dating until he brought it up.

At first, I altogether dismissed the idea because preliminary evidence suggested he was nuts, and to his credit, he stayed dismissed until I contacted him again.  He had done me a good turn in a comment thread somewhere on the internet, and I felt thanks were in order.  I confess that I like the way he maintains a respectful distance and adapts to whatever pace I require.  During the subsequent correspondence, he sent me the link to a patent he holds for some device that uses magnets to generate energy.  His complete legal name was on this patent, and of course I began to Google.

I already knew a bit about his blogging persona because he writes on those blogs people create that provide forums for reader diaries and on those that make you register in order to leave comments, like firedoglake.  I never read those blogs myself because I think they're filled with bullshit.  It's much better to read analysis and commentary of current events and politics on the blogs of people I've discovered through my own and whose opinions I've come to respect - like Mr. Charleston, for example, and JadedJ.  Those guys haven't been into politics much lately, and neither have I for that matter.  For me, that's because politics and current events are too damn depressing to go cruising the internet in search of more.  I get that stuff in the Journey with Roundtree7 room on Facebook.

*Note* Roundtree7, Worldwide Hippies, Here Be Mosters, Pinko the Bear, Air Amarteifio and AWOP radio have formed a collective called TheCommonsProjectNetwork.  The concept is that by standing together we have a bigger voice.  Website coming soon.  We're working on combining live video feeds with blogtalk shows to provide interactive access for the audience.  So far, we're kind of stuck with Google+ Hangouts because it's free and youtube is good for watching, but not so good for interacting.  I have confidence we'll figure it out - and maybe one day soon, we'll have a virtual salon at Menopausal Stoners HQ.  Smoke 'em if you've got em.

Banner Prototype by Gwendolyn Holden Barry

But back to this date.
I already knew from these profiles that he used to be a lawyer and then became a stripper.  Web search results revealed he was disbarred, but I don't know why.  It could have something to do with weapons charges, since he made reference to an incident on one of his posts that included military grade weapons.  He has sent me a link to a poem he wrote which he said was well received at a poetry slam at the Beat Museum in San Francisco.  He went to law school at Berkley and has a thesis on file at Brown.  He says he taught astrology when he lived outside London.  I think he lived at an Ashram.  Somehow from there he wound up in Kandahar.  I wouldn't be surprised to find that Hunter S. Thompson himself participated somewhere along the way.  Given that my buddy Gwendolyn learned about mythology from Joseph Campbell, got high with Carlos Castaneda and wound up in Berlin the day the wall came down, there's no reason why this fellow's life should be any more or less colorful.

When he first appeared on the periphery of the Triciasphere, I mentioned to my Roundtree buddies that he looked kind of like a character you would find in a Turkish Bazaar in an Indiana Jones movie.  Since then, he's brought up Kemalist philosophy, so I guess I wasn't far off the mark. He may very well be older than Woody which means he's pretty far outside the age parameters I used to set on Match dot com and other sites - further proving that nobody in real life asks how old you are if you meet at a party.  As it happen, I met this fellow at a meet-up called by a man who writes under the name Lambert Strether, primarily on his blog, corrente.   Lambert is one of the people I trust to have well informed political insights.  Dennis Trainor, Jr., Punk Patriot and Lee Camp fall into that category

That night about half the folks at our table of seven in Chinatown would have been familiar with Woody Konopelli from back in the Eschaton days.  Again, I don't pay much attention to the beltway crowd because their enthusiasm for politics sort of reminds me of the way people become all hooked into soap operas, and they watch national politics so closely that they think they know what's really going on inside the Beltway.

Bokonon tells us in Chapter 3 of Cat's Cradle:
I once knew an Episcopalian lady in Newport, Rhode Island, who asked me to design and build a doghouse for her Great Dane. The lady claimed to understand God and His Ways of Working perfectly. She could not understand why anyone should be puzzled about what had been or about what was going to be.
And yet, when I showed her a blueprint of the doghouse I proposed to build, she said to me, "I'm sorry, but I never could read one of those things."
"Give it to your husband or your minister to pass on to God," I said, "and, when God finds a minute, I'm sure he'll explain this doghouse of mine in a way that even you can understand."
She fired me. I shall never forget her. She believed that God liked people in sailboats much better than He liked people in motorboats. She could not bear to look at a worm. When she saw a worm, she screamed.
She was a fool, and so am I, and so is anyone who thinks he can see what God is Doing, [writes Bokonon].
And in Chapter 46:  Pay no attention to Caesar.  Caesar has no idea what's really going on.

In real life, right after the World Trade Centers came down, the director of my school called a meeting of the teachers to discuss the situation among ourselves so we could have a better idea how to handle anything the kids did in the classroom.  One of the teachers was a young woman who had come to the US from Iran with her parents when the Shaw was deposed.   She said that none of us will ever know what went on behind closed doors, so live our lives the same as we ever would.

Smart words from a woman who knew from experience that none of us can even claim to know what the hell our leaders are doing, or even what they think they're doing.

But back to the meet up --
I didn't mention Woody that night because the Kos folks were comparing notes, bringing up bloggers from the early days and listing all the blogs from which they'd been banned.  Woody was banned from all those blogs a long damn time ago for saying that the only reason he ever watched George W. Bush's speeches on TV was because he was hoping to see a nickel sized hole appear right between W's eyes.  People frowned on that sort of remark.  In fact, Lambert himself banned Woody from correntewire.com once upon a time.  Like Woody, the two Kos folks at the table that night evidently thought they were smarter and better informed than anyone they knew - and the woman was very will informed indeed, particularly about the internal workings of the DNC and about Obama's early days in Chicago when he received beaucoup bucks from the nuclear power industry.  She said that this country would be better off if Hillary had gotten the nomination, which would have happened if the DNC hadn't screwed Hillary somehow in the Texas caucuses.  Personally, I doubt we'd have seen any substantive differences if Hillary were president because she's become as hawkish as Margaret Thatcher, if you ask me, and her own daughter not only worked on Wall Street but she's now in the propaganda business. When you consider that the only thing Bill Clinton has done in Haiti is (1) build a luxury hotel and (2) purchase FEMA trailers condemned for formaldehyde after Katrina - I just don't see how anyone can think Bill Clinton walks on water even if he did, as the woman claimed, admit that NAFTA was a mistake. (Joe McEvoy at Worldwide Hippies reported on the Clintons in Haiti.  There must be links somewhere on WWH, if anybody wants a citation.  And really, anyone wanting proof of anything I say can do their own damn research).

As I recall, when the fellow I'm meeting tonight tried to engage her in conversation, she waved him off like a gnat.  I wasn't sure if that meant she was a jerk or if he was a nut or both.
I guess we'll find out more this evening.  He suggested a few places downtown, and I chose Toad Hall because I like the name.


For the record, when I told Velvet I had an actual date with a man who may or may not have been disbarred as a result of charges regarding military grade weapons and who then became a stripper - although not in a goofy club like Chip 'N Dale's but at bachelorette parties and such - all he had to say was, "Jesus Christ, Mom."  He agrees that although it sounds a little twisted, it's not boring.


18 comments:

Anonymous said...

I think it sounds like an adventure! Keep the adventure in your life alive...

PENolan said...

I do too, Jenelle - that's Jenelle, right?
Anyway, I'm looking forward to hearing some tales over a glass of nice red tonight somewhere in SoHo. I think it's SoHo

Woody (Tokin Librul/Rogue Scholar/ Helluvafella!) said...

Re: my estrangement from Eschaton
It was a "dime-sized hole."
But my final ostracism was occasioned by too-evident glee at the sudden demise of the Rev Jerry Falwell.
I was shunned at FDL, subject to (never forthcoming) approval on Corrente. Salon banned me forever. Dem U'ground took exception to my (non-partisan) criticism of their icons.
I was also 86'd at the bar in La Fonda for objecting to fruit in my beer.
No accounting, izzit?

Oso said...

trying to comment as myself (Oso) but probably gonna be anonymous.

Great post, i love your style, it's like sitting around a table talking, that's how you write these (in my perception) and most people cant do it, it comes out disjointed - yours flows!

best of luck, have fun!

PENolan said...

You're Oso, my friend. Thank you for the encouraging words. And I'm totally going to have fun. I've realized that the fellow (whom some may recognize as Rex Visigothis) is precisely the kind of man my parents wanted to preventing me from meeting when I was 20.

And no, Woody, there's no accounting for anything.

Aquiraans Leov To Fkuc said...

He says he taught astrology when he lived outside London.

No one 'lives' outside London. Outside London there is no life.

".......When you consider that the only thing Bill Clinton has done in Haiti is (1) build a luxury hotel and (2) purchase FEMA trailers condemned for formaldehyde after Katrina......"

You do realise that the lovely Interns in Haiti have blue frocks a-plenty, right? That leads to a pertinent (3) I should think.


I've received the following request from my ginger New York friend regarding your Bacchanal tonight:
"I will be in Soho tonight, too. I would love to know what restaurant so I can walk up to her table in my black cloak and ask her if she has any Midol."

Do not answer!
On paper she is acceptable, but in real life? God help America!

Aquiraans Leov To Fkuc said...

I wouldn't worry about your date, PENolan. I once dated and then slept with a man simply because he pronounced the names "Goethe" and "Camus" correctly - and I didn't even have to self-administer Rohypnol like I normally have to!
On paper, and in reality, the man was an incorrigible Byronic Hero. You know, mad, bad and dangerous to know. It turned out his love of accountancy trumped my allure.
Bastard.

Aquiraans Leov To Fkuc said...

PENolan admitted,

"......I've realized that the fellow (whom some may recognize as Rex Visigothis) is precisely the kind of man......"


Lord t'underin' Jaysus b'y, don't mention the Ostrogoths what ever you do.

Aquiraans Leov To Fkuc said...

I mean only to be funny, remember.
In case some might take offence to my gibberish above.

Leslie said...

ALTF, can you not read? She said Toad Hall. I love Toad Hall! They serve wicked hangovers with a salted rim.

Alas, plans have changed and I'm now going to Nyack for dinner.

Good luck on your date, Lady Menopausal. You are very brave.

PENolan said...

Nyack, you are equally brave, darling. I think it would be delightful if our paths crossed somewhere downtown. My buddy Nicole, of the I Love Nicole Show is a singer and is currently rehearsing with a band. When they start performing around town we should go. Could be too warm for the cape by the time they're performing, though.
Rex will surely want to come too. He's entertaining and all that but "not a match" as they say on the dating sites.
ALtoF - I avoided mentioning barbarians of all varieties since I still don't know my Angles from my Jutes. I've read enough Regency Romance novels to know that plenty of people would agree with your assessment that there is no life outside of London - at least not as long as you're still in England.
I'm content in New York.
And once spring break is over and I'm back to my regular routine, it's back to the drawing board on the man project.

Sterculian Rhetoric said...

I was not aware that Toad Hall served anything beyond meat pies, and seeing as how it was St. Patrick's Day party night in NYC, I reckon you were probably sorry. Don’t get me wrong though, Toad Hall is good for bellying up to the bar - kind of a roughneck hipster joint in a once posh neighbourhood that is now all but ruined by an infestation of Eurotrash. By your description above, of this impending ‘date’, I am glad to discover that you are alive and well this morning and that you were not found dismembered in a dumpster late last night.

"........He's entertaining and all that but "not a match" as they say on the dating sites......."

That is unfortunate. Cheer up though; you've the delight of learning about Angles and Jutes to which to look forward. To devote one’s life to barbarian scholarship is better than pesky relationships – sort of.

PENolan said...

We met early enough so the Bridge and Tunnel crowd, all dressed in green, was still in their tunnels and on their bridges. When we said Good Night and went to our separate subways, I really did mean to go home to Harlem. I got off at 14th Street on an impulse to meet my dear friend and alleged daughter, Gigi, and a couple of her friends at a place on Waverley called Jeffrey's Grocery. I spent a lovely hour at the bar with a cocktail while I waited for them. Nothing green in sight except the garnish on my plate of fingerling potato skins - with salmon rillette, roe, goat cheese and creme fresh. I would add the proper diacritics if I could figure out the instructions - but you get the idea.
The best part is that Gigi is friendly with one of the bartenders, so we got a few free drinks.
All in all, a pleasant night. But there are no Angles or Jutes in my immediate future. I'm off to Texas on Thursday.

Jennifer said...

I like the way you reason. It doesn't matter how this turned out. What's important is that you are being brave in not doing what you always did, like judging profiles and trusting your instincts. Hits and misses are certain, but I am confident it will lead to success. Because you're grand!

Sterculian Rhetoric said...

My experience with NYC is not that expansive I’m afraid – mostly visits in an employment capacity to that architectural eyesore on the corner of First and East 42nd. Leslie, the dear woman, has always been my chaperone whenever the two of us find ourselves concurrently in NYC, and by extension, Turtle Bay. It was she who introduced me to the night life and the various venues where one is less, or more, likely to survive the evening’s festivities. We Canadians are a frightfully cautious lot and Leslie, braving as she does the hurricanes, sinkholes and murder rate in New Orleans – her home port – and an Honourary Masshole, is just the ticket. And she is wicked Ginger arm candy.
My first date with the lovely and talented Fucking Aquarians, coincidently also in NYC, transpired much as did yours with the King last night. Though it was not really a date, we were, and remain, more ‘Partners in Crime’ than anything else. At the restaurant, she proceeded to order everything on the menu - I was paying you see. A tremendous amount of food, and wine arrived at our table. I was expecting an equine feed bag to arrive as well, at some point. She consumed all of the food and wine – including half the free bread sticks! This five-foot-nothing Asian woman-child consumed more at that one sitting than I normally consume in three days! I could not help but remark, “Goodness, Dr. M., do you eat like this at home?” To which she responded, between mouthfuls, “No, but then they don’t expect to fuck me after dinner”.
I mean, how could you not just love to bits a woman like that?
She left in Daddy’s Limo. I took the subway.

You are off to Texas, Leslie is off to NOLA and ALT-F is off to New Delhi, India.
Me?
I'm stuck here (being punished for being evil in a previous life I think) in the frozen wastelands of Soviet Canuckistan where I must beat-off the waiting polar bears every second Thursday morning in order to put out the trash.

Vancouver Voyeur said...

Mention of Bill Clinton reminds me of him repealing the Glass-Steagall Act and signing DOMA. I don't know if Hiilary woud be any different, but I still have hope.

Holte Ender said...

A rambling tale of the highest order. Not sure what was more interesting, the actual story or the fillers.

Susan Partlan said...

Um, be careful, okay? I worry about you.

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