b r e a t h i n g r o o m
6 Nov 97
Yesterday i swam through fog, drifted below the hangover threshold, with that slightly burnt feeling. Somehow, i wrote in the journal yesterday without mentioning it. guess it's easy to miss the ether but i mentioned it right off when talking on the phone, heard it in my own voice, i guess. i like dotting lowercase i's. (i'm experimenting today, writing the journal entry in my notebook while waiting for my eggs and bacon and grits.)
Good news about a possible, steadfast host for ezone, a new academic institution, eager to stand up to censorship, interested in cultivating a public ongoing discussion about free expression with our problems with Mattel as a jumping-off point. One side of my brain is greatly relieved. The other side is looking for a lawyer.
i come from a lawyerly family, at least on one side, with a raft of attorneys and a handful of judges and d.a.'s back in pennsylvania. my dad sells printing but it, the law, still felt like the family business. an open door ajar leading to a staircase labeled groton to harvard to yale law to associate to partner to senator to second catholic president, if all went well. ducking down instead into the middle-atlantic netherworld between my parents' pennsy and the newyork of my birth, two four-year terms in jersey somehow gave me the key to the continent and i fell down a rabbithole emerging like tik tok of oz on a byzantine promontory due left, with no degree more advanced than the arts of a bachelor, but a keen sense of my legal ground.
a sign i saw on the freeway explained a lot to me about the political drift of this nation:
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