I was thinking of changing the title of the previous from “Plastissimo Alto” to “To Be Young And Well-Hung In Palo Alto”. I reached that line about two hours in, and 2,000 words spent, of the previous post. I am referencing of course that a Palo Alto couple famously hung in their salon, at 433 Kingsley near Waverley, a collection of Henri Matisse paintings in the 1930s and their influence helped establish Matisse as well as engendered San Francisco’s Museum of Modern Art.
In the previous post I also give a shout in this context to Palo Altan Eugene Robinson the uber-macho writer, singer, poet, author and fighter. Think Norman Mailer mixed with the roomful of black and blues –the blindfolded boxers –in Ralph Ellison “Invisible Man.”
There is also a song by Jim Thomas and the Mermen called something like “To be Naked and French is Always Hard”.
I also made a perhaps indecorous reference to the reason why my friend Candye Kane was removed from a concert lineup in Birmingham, Alabama, previously. I used a common if vulgar term for oral pleasure, thought it sounds like something you do at a county fair, except in Alabama perhaps. (Or what about that fairly vulgar and redundant simile about a “one legged man at an ass-kicking contest” — who said that?)
And as always there is Groucho Marx wondering how an elephant “got” in his pajamas.
Or my monologue in the making about Jim Harbaugh hunched over the center. I said that someday due to his influence there will be a lot of high school teams here where due to demand they will be running offenses not with two tight ends (bad enough) but two centers — all these little kids for whatever reason, who met Harbaugh and now want to be centers.
Or about twenty titles from Jon Ginoli.
Or Beth Lisick and BLO opening for Ozomatli and then years later giving the world a giant banana.
Go ahead make my day. Bring this up when I run for Palo Alto City Council 2012. Like I would not have noticed that Janet Jackson’s boob popped out, until the tv people caught it, zoomed in, then replayed it a million times all the while blaming her.
It ain’t easy being smart, loose-lipped, (as opposed to loose-limbed, or being able to do the splits — I can do the Banana Splits. I can do Fleegle, Bingo, Drooper but not Snork. Snork requires too much discipline. Like piano lessons. I don’t play that “Yes, sir. No, sir” safe word stuff) funny, conscientious and having two hours a day access to a computer at the Palo Alto Library. Go ahead and attack me. I resemble that. I’ve been called verse.
edit to add, about six months later: at this point I have made jokes about it five or six times, and even skimmed a wiki article about it, but looking through my fingers in front of my face; the phrase, which I don’t actually understand and I don’t think I need to, appears in the recent New Yorker, thusly: !