Life is so full of clouds these days. And I am on the move, from Abiquiu where I read at The Inn and stayed over to swim in The Lake, and celebrate our 39th anniversary and 40 years deep. Then I had to be celebrated at Rancho de Chimayo. And that was great with our gang of Friday night revelers. But the best part of that was that Arturo Jaramillo was there, helping out as his way long ex-wife had broken her leg. I mean we're talking 25 years ago. And we remembered each other and he was as handsome as ever. It was one of those moments in time, the former hippies of the Nambé road meet the esteemed restauranteur. Only now we are both elders.
Then I had to compose a pink poem for the 8th color party at my friends Bette and Richard's house. I was the Poet Laureate of the color party for many years. So this ripple out is satisfying. The pink effect was wonderful and my three grandkids each made color party friends which I am hoping can be a tradition. And then.... I went to a hip hop show all dressed in pink which made me feel even fogeyer than I am, until I remembered my bowling shirt. Nothing like a Poet Laureate bowling shirt to shed some years (and add some pounds). Idris Goodwin invited me to read. He asked if I had "some in my dome." Now my dome is pretty tundra-esque, sparse clumps of lichen and the like. But I had books in the car (I am known for selling out of the way-back) and I read an "Espanola Pantoum." Idris can spit poems on his feet, free style, and I am paging through ones I wrote twenty years ago.
He called me "OG". And when I asked, it stands for "Original Gangster." The words that came to mind, after "old Gal" were "Oy Gevalt!" which is Yiddish for what were you thinking when you came to this venue where you could be everyone's mother if not grandmother?" Another translation is "Oh, the powers that be, the force of it!" A Yiddish proverb is "We come into this word with an Oy!----and leave with a gevalt!"
But by the end of the evening, we were family thanks to the menschlich qualities of Idris Goodwin. He celebrated each performer, the guy Patch from Silver City who had never been to Santa Fe, the 2Bers who are wonderful performers, hip hop with a bit of singer songwriters besides, and this ego riddled PL. I got to hug the 2Bers kids, Iris and Annabel, whose grandmother was a dear friend and passed on five years ago. Here's to Ellie, Your kids are doing great.
This morning Idris asked me to blurb his book. Have I arrived or what, or am I simply traveling the outer routes of my inner joy.
Speaking of which, Henry Real Bird, the Poet Laureate of Montana is riding his horse across his state handing out poetry books. People take care of him, feeding him drief beef and traditional foods of his Crow nation.
Anyhow, signing off, JL as the PL (and OG)