Posted by Phil on April 13, 2002, at 8:38:54
In reply to Community, posted by Willow on April 13, 2002, at 7:03:39
Here are a few things trouble emailed me-I hope she doesn't mind me posting this.
I was an hour late, couldn't find the church. It seems like she had a really cool and loving community of misfits, I didn't see any gangsters or thugs, most what I saw looked like regular, arty, coffee-house kids, they spoke fondly and well of her. No one was crying or falling apart, except me.
At the podium I explained thru sobs that I represented an on-line community made up of many people who loved Stacey very very much, mentioned her favorite poem, told em to look it up, and finished w/the opening lines of the Bob Dylan tune that you ask me pretty much sums the whole thing up; She Belongs To Me:
"She got....
Everything
She needs.She's an Artist.
She.
Don't.
Look .
...Back"<snip>
I asked someone what the parents said at the podium; they wished they would have been more tolerant, and understood the creative lifestyle better.
BTW, Sar's Mother knows all about Sar and PSB, has read her posts, she laughed, said they were "sparkling", also she said Sar has been going by that name since she was a kid.Sar's father singled me out, it took a long time to admit to myself who this jovial, cheery man was, but he sat for an hour w/ me, talking almost non-stop from a land of make-believe. I said about 5 sentences the whole time, after listening politely to him talk about Hemingway, Faulkner, artists, short stories....
What does any of this have to do w/ your daughter?
And it went right passed him, he didn't even pause in his narrative, but he was holding my gaze, and leaning into me, he wanted to connect, so whenever I could get a word in, I connected.
"I'm not here to talk about William Burroughs"
No pause, nothing, just continuing on w/how Burroughs put an apple on Joan's had took a gun and shot her in the face. He was smiling.
At one point I yelled I'm not here to talk about William Burroughs, I'm here to talk about the tragic end of my friend, Stacey.
"Oh! Stacey! She loved that Bukowski didn't she, the first time I saw a picture of him I says to myself 'this man has suffered.' I first read him in '86..."from robin
poster:Phil
thread:21990
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20020411/msgs/22005.html