Wednesday, June 5, 2024

Getting unstuck (?)

 

   The other night, I was watching a documentary on Netflix called Radical Wolfe about Tom Wolfe, the famed and somewhat controversial author of such modern classics as This Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, The Right Stuff and The Bonfire of the Vanities.  I was struck when, during one of the many television interview clips shown, Wolfe, in talking about The Right Stuff which took him most of the 70’s to write, described writing as “agony.”

   This made me feel better.  It helped to hear this.  It helped to hear Tom Wolfe, this great, famous writer who I have always loved, saying that writing was agony for him.  I don’t know if I would say that writing is agony, but, as much as I love it as Wolfe undoubtedly did, it is often not easy, to say the least. (Another quote I like – I don’t know the source – is “I like having written.”)    

   I don’t say this to elicit pity or as an excuse, considering that I haven’t posted here in months.  I’m just saying.  It’s a fact, an explanation. 

   The fact is that I haven’t been writing much lately, because I’ve been preoccupied.  It’s like my mind has been taken over, hijacked, by issues I’m dealing with, leaving no room to develop ideas to write about.  I don’t like it that this happens.  Like I said, it’s just a fact, it just is. 

   One of these issues literally took my time.  For many months, I had a pressure sore on my butt and had to lie down for at least part of the day.  This robbed me of time to do things – like write. (I did get out a column for the Claremont Courier and a few short items for my Quaker meeting in spurts when I was up and not going out.) Last week, the doctor told me that the sore is gone.  Hooray!  But now I’m wary of getting another sore and wondering if and how much I should lie down sometimes.  I’ve been lying down for a couple hours on most afternoons, but I wonder – and worry – about wasting time – and not writing. 

   Another thing very much on my mind is hiring at least two attendants.  I don’t like hiring anyway – getting strangers to take care of me – and the process this time has taken months, with the added stress that I need more than one attendant.  It has been hard to attract people, to get them to come for an interview, and a couple good prospects have backed out, despite the remarkably good pay I’m now able to offer.  The background checks, required for my funding and which can sometimes takes weeks and sometimes months, don’t help.  I also feel bad for my remaining attendants, who have taken on many extra hours and some overtime.  (One has been working practically every night for at least a month while starting a very difficult course of study.  Also, I’ve been assured that I have enough funding to cover the overtime, but still…)

   I’m also anxious and excited about this summer when I’ll be away not once but twice.  In July, for the first time in five years, I’m going to an annual five-day gathering of West-coast Quakers.  The meeting is being held at Whittier College, 40 minutes away, close enough to have my attendants do their shifts there.  The other trip is to Santa Barbara, about 2 hours away, in late August.  This should be easy and relaxing, but it’s a consolation of sorts, after backing off from a trip to the Bay Area, which proved to be too difficult now and which I’m still mourning, yes, mourning (I still need to cancel the airbnb). I’m looking forward to both times away, but there’s a lot to get ready, including getting my attendants lined up.  I wish traveling wasn’t so much harder than before my spinal surgery or even a few years ago – another thing I’ve been ruminating on.

   I rather be thinking about things to write, and writing them, than obsessing about these concerns, as mundane or profound as they are.  Like I said, this is not an excuse – and I did get this whole post out of just saying! – and I can only hope to be back here more often.  I will try.  That’s all I can say.

 

   Actually, I can add a bit more – my latest Claremont Courier column, which I managed to write when I was up and not going out. As you’ll see, it discusses the frustration of not being able to do what one was able to do or is used to doing – a feeling of being left behind.   

                TIME FOR SOME SMALL-TOWN QUIET

                           By John Pixley

   Whew!  It’s May.  I can take a breath! 

   Whew!  The colleges are wrapping up another year.  Except for a single leftover concert and a frenzied weekend of commencements, complete with crowded streets, this month, things will be pretty much all quiet on the collegiate front. 

   It’s about time! 

   It seems crazy for me to say, but, just in case it isn’t clear, I’m glad that the semester is over.  Or, rather, I’m relieved that the semester is over. 

   I’m relieved that all the concerts, performances and other presentations are over.

   This really does sound crazy coming from me. I have always rhapsodized about how the colleges and their events – often free! – make Claremont all the more special, an all the more unique and wonderful community in which to live.  I wrote a whole column a few months ago declaring that we don’t need L.A, that there’s enough going on right here in Claremont, thanks largely to the colleges here, not to bother with driving on the freeways. There were many years when I bemoaned that Claremont was dead during the summer, declaring that the commencements were cause for literal mourning, with the ensuing months not only hot but devoid of the colleges’ activities. 

   But things have changed, as I’ve been finding.  Yes, the town side of the town/gown equation has changed. Claremont isn’t quite the sleepy little town it used it be, where the sidewalks were said to roll up at 5. The Village has practically become a hot spot, especially on weekends.  There is the Laemmle cinema.  And there is a good amount of live music, whether in the Village on Friday evenings, in Memorial Park on Monday evenings and at a few other venues. 

   I suspect, though, that, probably more significantly and importantly, more than Claremont has changed.  There are no doubt plenty of teenagers and young adults who think that Claremont is Dullsville, who think that nothing goes on here, especially during the summer, who put up with the freeway traffic to escape to L.A and the beach and plot how to bust out of here someday.  As I heard a student speaker say at the Pomona College commencement years ago, Claremont is “a nice place to live when you retire.”

   Well, I’m about that age when I’m ready to retire.  Yes, I’m older – or at least more disabled.  I am not able to do what I used to do, and I don’t have the energy to deal with getting to and especially from L.A.  And, frankly, I barely can keep up with all the concerts and performances, much less the talks, at the colleges, especially as they pile up in the last month of the school year.

   It’s not that I don’t miss my adventures in L.A.  It’s not that I don’t look forward to spending a few days in Santa Barbara later this Summer and that I don’t sometimes wish I had I had a house or apartment at the beach where I could spend weekends (or weeks) at least during the summer. I do – sure, I do!  But I have come to appreciate how much we have in Claremont and how easy it is – not like dealing with the freeway traffic – and be thankful for and content with it. 

   And, every now and then, we really see that Claremont isn’t such a sleepy little town.  The colleges may not be big-time like UCLA or Harvard (despite the “Harvard of the West” t-shirts), but there is indeed life on the campuses – for better and for worse. 

   I was reminded of this, to my amusement and, yes, irritation, this Spring.  In late April, as the media kept proclaiming that the wave of student protests over the horrendous war in Gaza devolving into ugly, heart-sickening, sometimes violent confrontations, sometimes culminating in arrests by city police, began at, was inspired by New York’s Columbia University, I was like, wait, didn’t this happen at Pomona College weeks earlier in early April? 

   Not that that it was something to be proud of (especially with the protesters masked). But we were a small, sleepy town that doesn’t count.

   Well, I for one am ready for a few, just a few, months in a little, if not so sleepy, town.

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