1:21 p.m.||||2001-12-22
If you can't go to Los Angeles, have it come to you.
Dave and I went to what used to be the Latino cultural center of the South side but is now just a cultural center for all of us losers, because the Latino center proper moved across the street. Our friends from LA and San Fran are here for the holidays and we all wound up there...where we listened to rap followed by Gene and the Gene experiment. I drank whiskey and wound up weeping openly on the steps leading upstairs...the stairs beside the stupid stage where stupid Gene was playing. I haven't the faintest idea why I was sobbing other than that alcohol is a depressant and I'm Irish.
I actually had fun. I also remember those tears. They were really hot and pouring, ever felt that? Like tears are flowing from your face? This morning Dave asked, do you remember what was wrong? Cause he couldn't either.
I saw a lot of people we've really missed. Gene's brother, and little Dennis, with his great big hats. He's a diminutive dude compared to me, but he is kind of powerful, in his hat wearing, pineapple dread, kind of way. And dear Paullie, back from college, hooking us up with new mix tapes, bringing the liquor qith him where ever he goes.
We'll have to try again tonight, with a little less whiskey, so I can have a real conversation with someone other than my demons.