PopWars

It had rained all day Monday and through the night. We were watching “The Terror” on Netflix and the wind outside, coupled with the rain and acorns falling on our metal roof added to the oddly cozy, marooned in the Arctic on an 1850 war ship, period piece. I was up early on Tuesday and had already made coffee. I was working on a blog post when our power went off. We made a fire in the fireplace and moved chairs to the window so we could read the paper. RGE estimated a thousand people were out of power.

The power came back on around noon and we went out for a walk. We were almost to the park when someone on an eBike stopped near us. He told us his battery display was acting up and he wasn’t sure he could make it down to the lake and back without running out of juice. God forbid he’d have to peddle. He told us he had passed a huge, fallen tree somewhere after Walgreens on his way down Culver. We changed directions and walked through the woods and out to Culver to see if we could find that tree.

A few blocks south of Titus we spotted the scene above. I remember how we felt when one of our trees fell across the road and blocked in or out traffic for twenty five neighbors for most of a day. We have talked to the woman who lives in this house on our walks up to Wegman’s and I feel her pain. The fallen tree cut the power line as it fell and luckily it did not fall on their home.

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I don’t remember giving Dave copies of the cd compilations I did back. . . when was that when we got our first cd writer? I remember hiring Kevin Condo to come over to our house with his equipment and we watched him write a cd of graphic arts files. It seemed like magic. I did the compilations as “Sam Patch,” because I dj’d a few times under that name, and I named the cds alphabetically but only got as far as the “F Word” before cds were passé. I submitted the Sam Patch series to Apple Music but only 37 of the 89 songs were accepted.

In our time on this planet we are lucky to meet someone who is larger than life, out of the ordinary, like a rich, well developed character from a novel. It just happens. It is a gift. Carrol Hall took care of Dave Ripton near the end and she sent some pages Dave wrote for us. He framed the passages around the two Sam Patch cds. (I made one redaction.)

“(for Paul & Peggi)

Apostle-Pt.1
Collection of dead faces beneath acrylic varnish, begging.
Within slow montage, rack-focused edits from face to face, soundtrack 
Of Apostle recalibrates time and tries to repair the damage that MTV 
Has caused with the disease of jump-cut it thoughtlessly spread.
When Sun Ra makes his 2cd Coming, I have faith, the both of you will 
Be pulled up from this terminal planet and spared from disintegration.
If Death gets to you first, I beg of Christ that you die together.
My concept of True Love is based upon the example that you’ve set.
Your wise smiles ever-floating just slightly out of focus in me.

Birdbrain -Pt.6-13
I am guilty of spousal abuse. I confess this sin to you because I need 
To feel deeply ashamed, your opinion of me matters, I have to tell you.
My partner lied to me many times. Fear of getting older, combined with 
Drug-induced impotency, used my growing distrust of her to fuel episodes 
Of jealous savagery against her. I believed she was fucking around on me 
And it caused me to explode into psychotic rage. I thank God she wasn’t 
Injured, physically, at least. The spiritual toll is unmeasurable.

Birdbrain Pt.4.0
Your hands are like two shovels/ digging into me…

Apostle Pt.2
Dark Bug Jar circle of Margaret Explosion orbiting wildly as Ginsberg 
Was dying in NYC. Grass brownies dropped me into visions of an unlit 
Foreign jail cell where I screamed loud and long enough to summon you 
All for protection, and ultimately, for escape. Later I drove home 
And smiled upon hearing the bad news.

Birdbrain-Pt.3
I force myself to believe in a peaceful afterlife where the secret 
Roots of my sins will be explained and forgiven. I will see you two there

Apostle-Pt.1 1/2
I have tasted your disappointment in me. Addiction, like Love, cannot 
Be explained or experienced second-hand. I have sacrificed everyone and 
Everything of value in the dead pursuit of intoxication. No degree of 
Respect or acceptance ever came close to the rush of shame or the high 
Of alienation that I’ve wrapped around my carcass for its thin warmth.
I have fought myself, tried to be as honest as I could. Truth is the 
First fatality of addiction, knowing that, I’ve struggled to be truthful, 
Even though it has cost me dearly. As a young teenager I was asked what 
My future goals were during a conference with a guidance counselor.
I answered his question saying I wanted to be the lead singer of a band 
And a heroin addict. Gratefully, I never abandoned my Dreams, not very 
Many people can claim that, which is nice.

Apostle-Pt.1969 (Rochester, NY)
When, and if, Jimi paid his visit to Son House- I bet he felt like a 
Fucking poser. Stretch limo sliding through Niggertown to pay respect.
I’d feel like an asshole; wouldn’t you?

Birdbrain-Rows: G-W(Mezzanine Level)
I had attained invisibilty through strenuous spellcasting and various
Nauseating and dangerous potions. “Look here/To what I’ve wrote on my 
Shirt:.” I watched you perform at the ’83 Grammys- front row, center.
I assumed, incorrectly, that Peggy played a clarinet. I had to be unseen, 
Due to outspoken contempt for New Wave bands- I was a rabid Dead Boys fan 
And risked getting killed if any another scumbags spotted me there.
I enjoyed PE, in spite of myself. Those five Grammies were deserved, kids.
When I realized I was materializing back to visibilty- I panicked and 
Quickly dropped to my knees, …pretended to blow a couple of A&R guys.
I think one of them was Xxxxx Xxxxxxx, but I’m not 100% positive.”

Dave, We’ll see you in “the peaceful afterlife.”

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The timing of the Paw Paw Party at Coleen’s could not have been better. The morning was warm and sunny. So warm in the sun that we hung around the pool watching the Tulip tree leaves collect on the winter cover after we covered the flower pots, piled the tables and chairs under a tarp and turned off the heater for the winter. Peggi and I took a walk that finished at the garden and brought home a sweater full of peppers, arugula and salad fixings and then headed downtown. Colleen had three paw paws ready for us to sample.

We started with the dark skinned one. It was especially softe and overripe. The fruits sweet but tasted like it had starting to ferment. The second brown skinned specimen, also the consistency of custard, tasted like passion fruit. Delicious. It surly was at peak. The third was still firm so we brought it and the seeds home with us. The party was short as Coleen’s dog had to go out. The clouds darkened and It started to rain as we said goodbye.

The fruit came from a tree that grows near the public market and Colleen and Hucky got them from a vendor there. They gave us some seeds last year and we have a paw paw tree growing in our backyard now. We sang the song in grade school but never came across one. A lifetime later we discovered a tree in the park. Peggi submitted a photo to iNaturist and an Associate Professor of Geography at SUNY Geneseo contacted her to say even though Pawpaw is native to our area it is quite rare in NYS. It is classified as a threatened-species designation. Pawpaws produce the largest edible fruit of all native tree species in the United States.

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