Downtown Diary
"Evening in Fountain Square"
L. and I had dinner last Saturday evening on the patio of Santorini Greek Kitchen on Shelby Street. Twilight in Fountain Square! Mediterranean music blared from Santorini"s patio loudspeaker; a bellydancer wove through the tables practicing her sensuous art; a few effortlessly fashionable Latino youths walked by; an artsy fellow wearing super-sized, black, plastic-framed glasses yelled across the street to his friend, the piercing on his Adam"s apple vibrating at a pitch so high that it caused a dog to lie on the sidewalk and hold his paws over his ears in pain; a rusty pickup truck idled at the curb, a country and western song (concerning heartbreak, if I recall correctly) wafting through the open passenger-side window. I sat admiring the collision of cultures, then began gawking slack-jawed at the bellydancer, whereupon L. smacked me upon the back of my head, bringing me, quite suddenly, back to reality. Hector, more disheveled than usual with his hair in a vertical shock and eyes like pinwheels, approached our table and collapsed into a chair. "I can"t take it ... I just can"t take it ..." he muttered confusedly. "What"s wrong, Hector?" I asked. "Every time I turn the TV on it"s those same images over and over again ... I see those images in my sleep ... I feel like there"s no escape from those images ... Horrifying! Horrifying! Oh, the humanity! I just can"t take it any more! I must somehow escape those images! J, I feel like I"m losing my mind! Every time I turn on the TV, boom! There it is ... the images, the sounds run like a tape loop in my mind ... " "Now now, dear fellow," I comforted him, rubbing his arm, "don"t despair. Images of the 9/11 tragedy are truly frightening, and I"m sure the approaching anniversary has reactivated your anxieties." "9/11? Who said anything about 9/11? I"m talking about that public television fund-raising drive!"
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Oct 14, 2008
Downtown
Booker’s art, which quickly gained notoriety when she first began making sculpture from the discarded rubber in the late ’90s, is breathing n...
Do you sleep in the nude?
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