Gentle Reader -- You are welcome to peruse my web-based journal. I assure you that my contributions to this medium will be both infrequent and inconsequential. Read on!

SOMETHING IS AFOOT

How will this turn out? Only time will tell.

I am torn between optimism and pessimism. Bifurcated. Polarized. Reft in twain.

And to think that answers may come over a plate of chocolates . . . posted by Carlton at 11:17 PM

Smitten? posted by Carlton at 10:36 PM

THE GREAT MOON BOUNCE DISASTER OF '02

We had the 3d annual Johnny Waitkus Memorial Hooker Street Block Party on Saturday, and it was a hoot. There was laughter and tears, and near death experience.

The block party is the result of the efforts of my old housemate Keith Ladinsky, an amazing individual with an ability to motivate and organize people (in a relatively loose way, you understand) that really defies description. Keith was friends with Johnny when Johnny lived on Hooker Street -- Johnny is not dead, but only his memory remains there. That is a story too long for this entry.

So the block party is a big deal -- we block off the (dead end) street, we have food and alcohol, there is live music all day on a makeshift stage in someone's driveway. In order to make this enterprise a bit more family and a bit less seedy, there are activities for the neighborhood kids: face painting, arts and crafts and a rented Moon Bounce. We used to call it a Jupiter Jump when I was little, which may be an example of that Southern tendency to confuse a brand with a thing. In Britain they always called it a "bouncy castle." (If you still don't know what I'm talking about, it's a big inflatable structure kept turgid by a fan in the back. It's fun to get into and jump around. It's fun, that is, until tragedy strikes.)

This Moon Bounce actually was shaped like a castle, with pointy turrets on each corner. Most of the walls consisted of rope netting, although a large portion of each wall was inflatable and 'bouncy'. The one from the previous year had been a dragon, with its head bobbing up and down over the entrance. One little girl, about 10, had been at the last block party. "You killed the dragon so now you get to live in the castle," she said. That's some pretty heavy analysis for a 10 year-old.

Part I.

As in years past, I volunteered to monitor the Moon Bounce. I generally do this until I get tired or hungry (which is usually a good three hours or so), and then I dragoon someone else into doing it. When no one wants to do it any more, we unplug the thing and it deflates -- no more fun. I like kids, and running the thing is no hassle, usually. We set it up at one end of the street, and usually some of my buddies will come along and keep me company, bring me food and maybe a beer. Kids LOVE the Bounce -- fire it up and soon there is a crowd, nay a BIG crowd, of munchkins all waiting to get in. I make them get in a line, count off (only six at a time, etc.). It's not that hard of a job, and it's fun. Like I said, I like kids. It's a multiethnic neighborhood, so there are all kinds of kids -- white, black, Latino, Asian, and one kid from Bulgaria who would only give his name as "Lion King."

The kids were a bit rowdier than usual this year, however. A little proto-gang of pre-teens got into the Bounce, and wouldn't come out. One by one, I used my "mean Dad" voice and made them get out, but two girls just would not leave. They just kept bouncing, and shouting obsceneties. I wouldn't let anyone in until they got out, so soon there was a shouting match between the kids outside and the two girls inside. I went in the Bounce, but ended up just chasing them around inside. "You touch me and I'll sue your ass!" said one. There is some irony there.

Finally, I unplugged the Bounce, and it began to deflate with the two girls inside it. That worked like a charm: it deflated slowly, and they rushed out, and I decided to leave it off for a while as a lesson to all concerned -- and so I could get a veggie burger. I left the two girls in front of the Bounce -- the crowd of kids was getting into a fight, which I really did not want to be a part of. Parents were moving in, and I took off. I just work here, folks.

Part II.

Later in the day, I arranged a "Big Kids" bounce session. Some grownup friends wanted to go, and so I cleared the kids out for us. (I had done plenty of bouncing on my own after we set the thing up, of course -- one of the perks of running the ride.) The kids, while not able to bounce themselves, seemed excited to cling to the outside of the netting and yell encouragement to us. Most of all, they seemed to want us to do flips. My friend Sherry egged some girls into "peer pressuring" me. "Carlton, do a backflip! Carlton, do a backflip!" I tried to do a backflip.

I landed on the back of my head. My chin hit my chest, where I have a bruise today, and I heard my upper vertebrae all CRACK, just like at the chiropracter's office. I lay sprawled out on the inflated mat. All bouncing stopped around me. "Are you OK, Carlton?" asked Sherry. Sherry is a dear friend.

Luckily I was OK. My back and neck really hurt, and I crept off to sit on the curb for a while with some other friends, but I was/am ok. Needless to say, I was done with the Bounce for a while, and let other people take charge of it. I am not writing this entry with my eyebrows from a hospital bed, thank goodness.

Part III.

It got to be late in the afternoon, and I wandered back over to the Bounce. I was talking with Bryan, the guy who was watching the thing. He wasn't into it. "How much longer are we going to do this?" he said. All this time, kids were swarming around the entrance, and Bryan and whatever adults were around had to really struggle to keep order. "It's 6:30," I said. "Let's make this one the last."

"OK kids!" I yelled. "We're closing the Moon Bounce."

It was mob rule. The kids -- not to be too clever about it -- stormed the castle, pushing us adults aside.
There were something like sixteen children in the Bounce, which was rocking and careening dangerously from side to side. Somebody was going to get hurt, I thought. The kids wouldn't come out. Remembering my success of earlier in the day, I turned off the Bounce.

With sixteen kids inside of it, the thing collapsed, albeit in slow motion. The inflatable roof fell in, the turrets all made for the center, the floor went down to the concrete. The kids in the front near the door crawled out -- all the others were trapped. All around the edges, children's faces were pressed into the netting. "Help! Help!" For some reason I kept thinking of a mining disaster. Headline: Sixteen Children Die in Moon Bounce Accident.

I went into the deflated Bounce after the children, but it was really too heavy to lift up when not held up by air. Frustratingly enough, the children, when I found them, wouldn't get out of the Bounce: they either sat there and stared at me or tried to crawl back in after their friends. I had to manhandle a couple of them.

Finally, of course, I just turned the fan back on. The roof shot back up, the turrets went back into place, and the kids all scrambled out. The whole thing took less than a minute. When they were all out, I turned the fan off again. The kids then proceeded to jump all over the deflating Bounce, which had enough air in it to make some big pillows. "It's like a chair!" said one boy, who had been screaming bloody murder with his face pressed into the net just a moment before.

No harm, no foul.

I ain't runnin' no Moon Bounce again, though. posted by Carlton at 10:06 PM

VISITS

I am sitting in my office waiting for a call from Marcia, who is visiting Boston this week for her work. I'm excited that she'll be here -- I only see her once a century, it seems like. Tonight, Marcia and I will be joined by Christine (one of Marcia's Wazoo friends who is now a Manhattan ADA) and Christine's mom for dinner at a nice restaurant down near my office. I like it when people visit me.

At the beginning of next month, I'll be in New York City for a long weekend, the raison d'etre of which is a seminar about the tax treatment of private foundations which engage in political activities. I should get to see Dan, a Hooker Street friend, and at least some of the THREE high school friends who live in NYC: Karin, Becki, Kelli.
I hope some of these people will be willing to put me up for a night or two. (Can you believe that there are three alums of Hattiesburg High School living in Manhattan and Brooklyn? There may be more that I don't know about.)

In November, there is supposed to be a Hooker Street reunion at our own very special Undisclosed Location in New Hampshire -- damn, I disclosed it. THAT'S going to be a blast: Hooker's past, present and future -- a diverse group -- will gather in a remote cabin to drink and carouse. I am told that we will be joined by our two celebrity members, Emily Deschanel (whose futon I own) and Erika Leersen (sp?) (Of *Blair Witch Project: Book of Shadows* fame). I may have to learn how to post pictures here.

Here's to good friends, tonight is kind of special . . . posted by Carlton at 6:51 PM

MISCELLANY

Congratulations to Scott for not smoking for . . . what is it, a day? Seriously -- go Scott.

I had dinner last night with a dear friend of mine who was kind enough to tell me what a bad person she thinks I am, how she thinks I would be a terrible boyfriend and that she would never recommend any of her female friends to associate with me because of my awful amorality. That hurt; my response that she is a freakish, controlling, nagging harpy who would grind any man down to dust over time who wasn't smart enough to leave her didn't seem to strike her as deeply as I wanted it to. During this conversation, we shared a piece of cheesecake. We made up today, but that conversation has put me into a foul mood.

I have been spending an unwelcome amount of time on the phone lately with the folks at the Massachusetts Division of Medical Assistance. I'm not going to link to them. You know why? They suck. It's difficult to argue with someone who simply refuses to understand the question you are asking, simply refuses to do their job, simply refuses to be helpful in any way. I, of course, have done my best to be unfailingly sweet and charming on the telephone with them.

Anyone who is in Boston this weekend should come to a block party on my old street: Hooker Street, in Allston. Live music, food, activities for the kids. It's all free (although you will get to make a donation if you'd like).

Boy, am I snarky today or what? posted by Carlton at 5:43 PM

YELLOW (oh yeah)

I'm just not a big fan of the color yellow, OK? Neither was Green Lantern!

My general state of mind is as follows: dissatisfied, confused. I am entertaining all kind of plans for the near and distant future. Some of them make sense, and some of them do not. Perhaps I'll post something long and whiny about them later.

"Couldn't sleep at all last night, rolling from side to side . . . I was not sick I was just dissatisfied." -- Leadbelly
posted by Carlton at 1:40 PM

INCOMMUNICADO

I haven't posted anything here in a while -- I'd like to say that it's because I've been staying in an Undisclosed Secure Location like Tricky Dick (and I'd like to tell you that Franka Potente is staying there with me). That's not the truth, however.

Let's see, a couple of big things have happened in the last ten days or so.

I made moves to buy a car. Yes folks, Carlton, who has been without a car for FIVE YEARS (one in Hungary, four in Boston) is going to saddle up. Thing is that the car I am buying is not available for a full year, although I had a test drive and put down a deposit for it now. What car could be worth the wait, you ask? That car, my friends, is the Mini Cooper S. Yep the new Mini will someday be mine -- and the supercharged, intercooled, all-around pepped up Mini at that. Dark blue, with a white top -- not some pansy yellow (don't like yellow, no sir).

Buying a car has been something of a philosophical struggle for me. Frankly, I don't need a car. I live in Boston, I can get where I need to go via the T (our local public trans), currently I have a massive supermarket within a short walk of my pad. I have endeavored to live by Thorueau's principle -- "simplify, simplify" -- as much as possible. (Was that Thorueau? I think so.) That has involved living in a studio apartment in a crummy part of the city, not buying lots of new furniture/electronics/clothes, and not having a car. To make life bearable, however, I have made Mr. Thoreau coexist with another principle, which is this: because I make a good living and live fairly frugally, I shouldn't feel bad about individual purchases of things that I really want.

I really want a Mini. I have wanted one since I spent my senior year of college in Wales, where I would see them tooling around Swansea or Carmarthen or Llanelli. I thought they were a hoot, and I wanted to drive one. At the same time, I knew no one who owned one, and no one in her right mind would have let me drive her car in Britain (the one time I attempted to ride a bicycle, I looked the wrong way for traffic and nearly got creamed). And now they are HERE, and I can BUY ONE, and it's a NEW CAR made by BMW! On top of that, it's not even that expensive -- comparable in price to the Honda Civic or the VW Beetle. Less practical than the Civic, of course -- and more fun! (Did I mention that the thing has SIX speeds on the floor?)

So I drove it and ordered it and it will arrive some time next year. The delay is actually not a problem (except that I really really want it right now!) because between now and next September I intend to sell my apartment and move to a different neighborhood with better parking -- maybe even my own space. I can't sell my apartment until May (see series of extrememly boring posts preceding this one), so it all fits together seamlessly. I hope.
AND by that time I will have not had a car for SIX years, and I will have waited TWO years from beginning the big job as a high-powered attorney before buying one, and then buying a relatively inexpensive car that I really really want (NOW!), so it all seems to fit into the whole "simplify" mode. It doesn't fit as well as not buying a car at all, but screw it. I want one, and I can get one.

Oh . . . and a boatload of people were laid off at my work this week, which is much more important than a car but less fun to think about. Something like fifteen attorneys (out of maybe 80 that were left), and innumerable support staff (secretaries, etc) were given the boot. I was told beforehand by one of the big dogs that no one in my department would be cut, so I was not worried for myself. Still, it was hard to watch -- it happened on the one-year anniversary of my class of attorneys starting work at the firm, and three of us were given the ax. One woman (my friend), for whom this was her first job, became so upset that she called her mother to come pick her up -- which is touching, if unprofessional. There was a lot of open crying in the halls. It's a grim place since. Those of us who are left have been assured of a job at the new firm that Hutchins is merging with, Nixon Peabody. Instead of the Hutch, we will be the Nix, I guess.

So that's the scoop. It's good to see Greg is back in blogging action. Szervusz. posted by Carlton at 2:01 PM

OK, I HAVE NO PROBLEMS

Got an email from a female friend I know from Budapest and haven't seen for 4+ years. I won't use her name or anybody's real name, since I didn't ask permission, but here's a part of her email:

... two weeks after I got back to Australia Robert and I
were in a pretty shitty car accident. I fractured my
shoulder, lost some teeth, scarred my left check bone
and lip (plastic surgery lined up for October, way
hey),screwed up my vision and had a brain injury. So
now I have silver train-track braces, complete with
elastics (v. attractive:) and thankfully my head is
working better than it was.

At the start I didn't recognise Robert, didn't know
what country I was in, where I worked and asked
Robert's mum how many months pregnant I was! I think I
was trying to make sense of why I was in hospital with
her and Robert. They had to keep telling me that we
were in an accident, but my short term memory was
fucked so I kept forgetting. When I went into the
bathroom and saw my face and teeth I come out looking
shocked, so they had to explain about the accident,
but two hours later I'd walk out of the bathroom again
looking shocked and they had to tell me all over again
- pretty weird shit! But I'm okay now, still doing my
job and functioning well - the only major remaining
problem is fatigue, which is why I have just dropped
to a 3 day week.

So how am I? Oh, I'm just fine, thanks.
posted by Carlton at 2:06 PM