RUDIMENTS

RUDIMENTS, pt. 391 (avenel slide show) After a while all of life is just a question of memory  - what you have, what you want to, remember. Not have to, just 'have. It's like, in the 1960's, you'd get stuck at the homes of people with slides. And slide projectors. And screens  -  that's all gone now, because people have instant and different means here of grabbing moments; phone snaps, on-line stuff, etc. There are other ways, a million other ways, of doing memory now. Nothing really 'matters' any longer. Mostly even if you kill someone, or were born a boy but want to be a girl, whatever, nothing simply matters any longer. Back then, what I'm talking about, things were way different. The Jones family, back from California and Waikiki too, had about 80 photos, as slides, and they'd be determined to show them. So you'd go over there, and the room would be set up, the adults would filter

RUDIMENTS, pt. 390 (avenel : must be  something in the water) Not to press all the same points but the next thing my  father did (I was 10 and helped him do it) was blow out the rear of the house and extend it with a large, extended, new room. That too took about a Summer and into October. Mainly just using brawn and hammers. He trenched the large rectangle for footings, we poured the concrete in, with the bolts and all that sticking up, then base boards went into the cinder block wall and the bolts, etc. By the time we were done  with that, it was a big extended,  wooden floor, to which the studs  and wood and all was added for  the walls, and roof. I was always busy  -  sometimes uncles came over and help for the day, I'd pitch in, whatever. And then, one day, we were ready! We destroyed the interior wall, just blasted it away. That was the fun part, until of course the miserable clean up. But, anyway, there it was, z

RUDIMENTS, pt. 389 (a story of nyc to avenel, pt.2) Sometimes there are better things than just better times; if you sit around waiting for them to come they never show up anyway. It's as if, say, you're a major-league pitcher, a fireballer or a short-relief guy. The situations are set up; you need to come in, be precise, and just keep heaving the stuff, letting them know you always have more where that came from. I don't know, is that intimidation? Is that how one should operate? I never knew, but then again one should always be mindful of firepower greater than your own. It's out there. - I never much 'liked' Bayonne, times I'd go back. It never seemed set up correctly. I'd return, in later years, trying to make some sense; I'd visit an uncle there who'd had a dry cleaning business for years. He knew all the spots, and we'd drive around in his Crown Vic and he'd go from here to he