Nice sunrise. I lay with sleepy eyes watching it until it climbed into the cloud cover...
My chain chose to break on this auspicious morning. I'll seek out another.
Then, as quickly as the sun disappeared, I felt a raindrop penetrate the screen and hit my arm. Damn... I went into immediate pack-up mode. Everything was in the pack and I was on the road by the time the rain really began. Thankfully, it wouldn't last long.
Stopping in at Starbucks to check with Jeff about our planned trip to the Jack Kerouac memorial, I wasn't sure it would be a dry one. But checking the weather, it appeared this morning rain was a hiccup. There was to be a storm later, but the sun would be out in between.
We stuck to our plan to meet at McDonald's, and I went there to wait for him. He arrived at 10:15 a.m. and we were "on the road" by 10:30 a.m. We drove around Lowell a bit to get a sense of the place. Then we found Kerouac Park (download the park's excellent PDF brochure), and began our solemn walk around...
I had been reading On the Road--the novel written based on his own journeys around America, and was becoming quite fascinated with how Kerouac's style of free-flowing conversational prose was so similar to my own. I would say it the other way around, but I had not been influenced by him. It was a pure coincidence.
We speak with a different kind of language. I am more formal and organized. He uses a - seemingly - more random and "hip" tone--typical of the beat or beatnik generation (helping to form that tone, actually). Still, I believe we are (I use present tense, since his words remain alive) willing to write the way we speak, unconcerned about our occasional heavy fiddling with the rules of standard English. We both understand grammar very well, and that is why (I think) we should be historically allowed to bend it to our wills.
There are other strange things that resonate with me. His character Ed Wall (mentioned in Chapter III) caught my attention. That Kerouac uses his friends and family to form his characters is exactly what I have done in my short stories. I have written about 20 short stories, some of them are published here, including: Chance In Plain Sight, Salvage Yard, The Aeronaut Revelation, and The Flower Farmer. They are not yet fully edited. Any of them could be turned into novels. I have not yet written a novel, but the practice with short story writing has helped immensely.
I met Stephen King once at a party in Bangor in his home in 1986. I told him I was a songwriter but wanted to develop into a fictional author and non-fictional writer as well. He was very kind and attentive, giving me all of his focus for the few minutes we spoke.
The most important thing he told me was that one must always inject bits of fiction into non-fiction, and vice versa. The reason why this is not disingenuous or deceptive, according to King, is because we make our own realities anyway. Who is to say whether something happening in the material world or the mental world is or is not "real"? And since we occupy both at once, there is a significant overlap. Who is to say whether a vision is a dream, or a dream is a vision, for example? I thought this was one of the most amazing insights I'd ever heard. The man is a genius on so many levels. I'm sure he wouldn't remember me, but I will never forget that conversation.
The most eerie thing at this point in my life - at 47 years old - and at this point on this Journey (2014-2016), was reading that Kerouac planned to live for a long time, developing his career...
"In my old age," he wrote, "I intend to collect all my work and reinsert my pantheon of uniform names, leave the long shelf full of books there, and die happy."
[The Dharma Bums (online version) - About the Author yanko.lib.ru]But, he never got the chance, dying in 1969 at the age of, you guessed it, 47. The month and day of his death - October 21 - was the day before the day I left Maine (October 22).
Of course, the quote above is very similar to my own aspiration. I hope to break the "dying young" cycle that so many great musicians and writers have succumbed to, so that I too, may go from being good to being great at my art.
Nevertheless... July 28, 2016 is not yet here. Ha!
I guess if there is a trait about myself of which I am most proud and share with Kerouac it is my intense and tenacious desire to change the world with my words, as much as any one man can. I also want to change language and literature itself--if possible. In this regard, Kerouac is one ideal teacher and example. Furthermore, I am a very willing student...
In all my unshaved glory--rectified with a hotel stay on this night. Ha!
Notice the two Jeff's? An artifact of the panoramic process.
The layout of this park, as a circle within a cross,
represents Kerouac's Catholic and Buddhist beliefs.
The central circle.
We then left to find Kerouac's resting place in Edson Park. Jeff noticed the incredible architecture of these two buildings, and I got out to take a few shots...
Jeff had been to this cemetery before and easily found it. It is tradition to leave things that were central to Kerouac's style and stories, usually booze, cigarettes and coffee...
Before us.
After us.
Canadian coin.
The large stone seen below was added since Jeff had last visited...
The front.
Some of the objects left by other visitors on top.
The back.
We left, having fully satisfied the objective of our mission. I had received a donation - just enough for a hotel room - and reserved it in Bedford. Jeff offered to drive me down there. And on the way, he twisted my arm (NOT) to eat at a Korean/Asian market he'd found when he used to work in the area, called H Market in Burlington.
I can't remember the name of the meal I chose, but it really kicked ass! Spicy pork with bean sprouts soup, kimchi, and white rice...
My stomach is rumbling again just looking at this!
I also, bought some of my favorite Asian snacks for the road--dried squid and dried sardines. Eventually, we got to the hotel and Jeff dropped me off, handing me the characteristically awesome care package he always thinks of great stuff to add.
The man has been so incredibly generous not only in these last few weeks but since the very beginning. He has rightly earned his co-starring role in this amazing story, developing since October of 2014.
The hotel was pretty neat. It is triangular in shape with an indoor courtyard and swimming pool, fitness room and continental breakfast. It was clean and the staff was very friendly and helpful...
After getting things set up for writing, I went out to look around this part of town for about an hour...
Strange to see in such a upscale town.
Caught sight of this little guy and made a video for my friend,
Allyson--whom I visited in Minnesota. She takes care of some wild bunnies at her apartment.
Later, I noticed some issues that were mildly irritating about my room. The ancient TV had a bit of a warped image. The "cable"consisted of about 10 channels, none of which were my go-to stations (no PBS, Food Network, or Travel Channel). This didn't matter that much, but after completing my post on this very active day, I would have liked to watch some Bizarre Foods or something besides "reality" trash TV.
Much more troubling was the crappy Wi-Fi, which would cut out over and over again, or get stuck on one page, disallowing navigation. Thankfully, I can piggyback on any Xfinity hotspot. And there was one--probably from a nearby building.
Another thing was the damn air conditioner. It was stuck way over by the bathroom, with it's slats pointed directly up and unable to be repositioned. It cooled off the bathroom quite nicely, but the living area remained lukewarm. It should have been under the window, but whatever. I got fed up and removed the entire face of the unit, so that the fan would blow out into the rest of the room, then replaced the cover before leaving the next morning--own where you are. Right?
Finally, and most significantly, the pillows were WAY too puffy. In the pillowcase was a plastic balloon-like pillow, stuffed with fiberfill. This meant that my head was propped up too high, while simultaneously, the sides collapsed over my face. These pillows heated up and reflected that heat back onto my head, causing me to sweat all night. I already have problems sleeping in beds now after so much tent sleeping. This was a frustrating and unrestful night. I think I slept, but not very well.
The day, though, had been a great success.and, I was very happy about how everything had gone. It was Jeff's idea to visit Kerouac. And, he suggested another home run idea two days later, that I think you are really going to enjoy.
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