Mangrove's Warbling

On (Standing In) Line(s)

Mr E Saunders — Fri, 29 Jul 2011 14:08:50 +0000

In the Way of Explanation

On the recommendation of a mutual friend (whom we will call “Dr Vanderburg”), a far-flung person (whom we will call “Cuthbert”) began corresponding.

This is not the kind of invitation I tend to accept.

You two have so much in common!

Right.

It turns out, the correspondence is of great interest and entertainment. Let’s not tell Dr Vanderburg.

"Free Gift" Line, Herald Square, 1975

Apparently, in my correspondence with Cuthbert, who is given to riding bicycles, being run over by cars and breaking bones, I have written a good deal about meeting people in lines, including a recent encounter with Samantha Power, an advisor to the President and responsible to run the Office of Multilateral Affairs and Human Rights. This led Cuthbert to write,

What is your criteria for choosing a line? Does it need to be of a certain length, formed in a certain geometric pattern, or residing in a certain neighborhood? Group think psychology teaches us that a crowd draws a crowd; does this mean that a line is a self-perpetuating entity? What a fascinating life you lead.

Cuthbert asks what is perhaps the most searing and searching question we can ask ourselves in this life:

What does one look for in a line?

I feel I should respond simply because I am interested in the question. But, there are other reasons to respond. As Cuthbert notes, I (we) spend a good deal of time in lines. And, given the growing collection of mis-haps and broken bones to which Cuthbert refers in what I would describe as our nascent correspondence, I feel he might consider standing in more lines. I have a feeling there are more tales of accidents and more broken bones to come. Standing in line can can be a rewarding—and relatively safe—enterprise, in most cases an acknowledged alternative to being run over.

What follows is a non-exclusive list of things one might consider vis-a-vis a line.

What does one look for in a line?

•It’s Existence

Tautological, perhaps. But, it is important to look for a line that in fact exists. This is as opposed to any number of alternate means of gathering—for instance milling about in some loose agglomeration that better resembles a circular grouping of persons and connoting, however atavistically, our beginnings. I have loafed about in enough parking lots in my life to know the likelihood of some interesting—rather than merely useful—result is low.

•Purpose

It is important for the line have some cause and goal. Standing in a line for no apparent reason or for its own sake is a gloomy enterprise with needless existential implications. One wants to be in a line for a reason—tickets to see “Manhattan,” for example, or to secure ice cream or to leap off a diving board into a pool of water waiting below.

•Happy—or at least interesting—purpose (cf. supra at Purpose)

It is tempting to include this with “Purpose” above. But, I think there is good reason to distinguish.

A line may have a cause and goal which are happy, entirely arbitrary or somewhere in between. It makes a great deal of difference which is at issue.

One wants a line for a happy purpose. Consider the difference between standing in line at Barney Greengrass to get a piece of cheesecake, for example, and standing in line to be shot for treason. In which line do you expect the better result? Well, being smart, you say, “it depends.” From the executioner’s standpoint, each line might offer equivalent value. But, to the person standing in line—the recipient of the cheesecake or the bullet—I would wager the differences are too obvious to explain.

Why concern oneself with this issue?

Well, what one may derive from being in line (in addition to its intended purpose) relates directly to its purpose and, further, its happy purpose. I stood in plenty of lines in the Soviet Union. It was a dreary exercise, the dreariness of which was exacerbated by the real chance the line (1) had no purpose or (2) would have its purpose extinguished before no small number of its occupants reached its end. The likelihood of needless existential crisis (or, at a minimum, a trying and self-referential conversation about the line itself) is high.

•Consaguinity

It is important that the persons in line have some loosely similar (though not exclusive) purpose for being there. In a way, this relates to purpose. A collection of traitors standing in line to be executed might have a perfectly fine time, talking divertingly about the weather and other news of the day. Were I to stand in line with them, not being a traitor, I might fidget and ask pesky questions about impending events, whether the state met its Constitutional requirements to prove treason, the adequacy of proceedings to prove the Constitutional elements, etc. Not being familiar or comfortable with the line’s purpose, my inapt questions might set my fellow line occupants on edge—kill the buzz, as it were.

•Noteworthiness

At the same time that one wants a certain measure of similarity of purpose to bond the persons standing in the line one joins, it is also important that a person or persons of interest—perhaps unusual interest—populates the line. It is, in this regard, important that the line not be overpopulated. Standing in line with Churchill, George Clooney, Agnes Martin, Minnesota Fats and Cher would be pointless.

Noteworthiness is both a general and specific characteristic. So, for example, a line in which Samantha Power stands is, generally speaking, of more interest than one in which she does not stand. Moreover, a line in which Ms Power stands is more interesting to me than is a line in which stands Bob Eubanks in part because Ms Power’s thinking is of specific interest to me and in part because I find Mr Eubanks alarming.

•A Keen Eye & Preparation

But for their rabid hatred of homosexuals, their penchant for buggery and the deeply boring nature of “activities” I endured in the one meeting I was forced to attend as a young person, I think the Boy Scouts motto—”Be Prepared”—is a good one and may be applied usefully here.

One needs to be able to recognize that Ms Power or Mr Eubanks is standing in line and act accordingly. Is one or the other of interest? Do one have something interesting to say? Is one scared of them?

In my case, on seeing Ms Power standing in line, I would choose that line instead of a line in which stands Mr Eubanks. Or, as was the case, I might find myself pleased to discover I am standing in line with Ms Power and not so pleased about standing in line with Mr Eubanks. (It should be noted that the unfavorable mention of Mr Eubanks elicited from Cuthbert a truly enlightening tract on the names and consequence of game show hosts through history. I can only hope Cuthbert finds a suitable publisher. It is information the world should know and it may make a noteworthy contribution to standing in line.)

Once in line, one is faced with the challenge of engaging the person of interest in some conversation. And so, that moment between recognition—and let’s call it joinder—is essential. It is the time in which one must develop something of interest to say.

In these circumstances, I think it is wise to (1) ask a question and (2) be pleasant. Asserting to Ms Power that there is no moral basis for foreign relations, its animating principle being force, may well and understandably set her on edge. (Telling Mr Eubanks he is alarming no doubt runs the same risk.) This isn’t a conference at which the line has been invited to test one another’s views on world affairs (unless it is, in which case the assertion may have some better context and so better effect). Rather, this is an opportunity to engage someone of interest in a way that invites them to share something of interest in the brief (or not so brief) time you find yourselves in the same space and time.

It is useful to have questions in mind in advance. This is not to say that one would or could imagine the specific line in which one finds oneself. It is to say that one can imagine likely scenarios and prepare accordingly.

So, for example, ask yourself what you might do were you in line at the grocery with Churchill. These are questions useful not only if you find yourself in line with Churchill but if you find yourself in line with someone of his ilk and you cannot think of something to say that is more specifically related to that other person. Thus, one could ask of Churchill and Stalin equally,

Boy! Weren’t those Nazis a bunch of fuckers?

•Luck

It goes without saying, I think, that one needs to be in the right place and the right time. This takes some luck. But, as Virgil reminds us,

fortune favors the bold.

One must strike out both to find a line of interest and, once in it, to pursue the opportunity it presents with vim and vigor.

I Will Follow

Mr E Saunders — Fri, 22 Jul 2011 23:18:07 +0000

When debt ceiling negotiations fall apart (or in almost any other circumstance), it is best to listen to old U2.

Pete Townshend & The Kinks

Mr E Saunders — Mon, 18 Jul 2011 14:41:46 +0000

Glenn Gould, Goldberg Variations, Aria (1981)

Mr E Saunders — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 16:59:06 +0000

U2 Bullet the Blue Sky (Live)

Mr E Saunders — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 16:56:00 +0000

Kurt Vile, Freak Train (Live)

Mr E Saunders — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 16:53:55 +0000

Fabrication is my best friend but I ain’t never been so insulted in my whole life.

Lumberjack Checklist

Mr E Saunders — Sat, 05 Mar 2011 00:31:15 +0000

Is the author of all plaidout a lumberjack? Fourteen signs to consider:

Set in British Columbia
Is “OK”
Sleeps all night
Works all day
Cuts down trees
Eats lunch
Goes to the lavatory
Shops on Wednesdays
Has buttered scones for tea
Likes to (a) skip and jump (b) press wild flowers
Wears women’s clothing
Hangs around in bars
Wears high heels, suspenders and a bra (see 11, supra)
Wishes he was “a girlie like [his] papa”

Thank you, Python (Monty)

Democracy’s Sheen

Mr E Saunders — Tue, 01 Mar 2011 21:05:53 +0000

There is the old saw in the politics of democracy: We, the People, get the representatives We deserve.

This may be a difficult concept to grasp. In part, when people say this, I tend to think about giants. George Washington. Abraham Lincoln. FDR. Towering figures of our political history who, regardless of the complexities specific to their lives, have assumed a mythic importance in our political culture. We want these giants here, now, to solve our problems.

Who wouldn’t pale in comparison?

The idea may difficult to grasp for the opposite reason: The quality of present (whenever that might be) representation. Here the specifics are deeply important. The day-to-day fog and mud of getting things done in politics. The relationship between what gets done, what it takes to get things done and what should get done. It is difficult to see the here-and-now when in the here-and-now, especially when political discourse can be as much about adopting the opposing side for the sake of adopting the opposing side (whether a principled opposition or not) and one of the results is not clarity through contrast but confusion of issues and the adoption of short-term political gain at the expense of ideas—and people.

Again, it is hard not to pale in comparison to the giants of our imagining who, presently, are unencumbered by the complexities of our own time.

Recently, though, there is a stellar analogy that explains the idea in a different way: Charlie Sheen.

I have to admit I haven’t paid a lot of attention to the reported utterances of this person. I listened to part of the radio interview he did the other day. I saw part of an interview he did with ABC. I have read a bit here and there.

I have to admit, I didn’t see the point. It just seemed nuts. And why waste my time.

This morning it hit me.

Isn’t it delightful (or fitting or just or simply illustrative…) for Mr Sheen to erupt at Oscar time?

It’s perfect, really. The goings-on of this highly successful television actor are the perfect counterweight to the glamor the Oscars are meant to embody. The elegant (and, by most reports, deeply boring) spectacle of doling out awards to the well-shod up-ended (or at least punctuated) by the addled vituperations of the most successful practitioner of that lesser art of the television sit-com—the highly lucrative and highly embarrassing bank on which we and Hollywood depend for easy (cheap) thrills, be they money or laughs (they are the same thing to the people who make these shows).

I have watched Mr Sheen’s show a few times. I find it profoundly unpleasant (though its unceasing crassness has made me titter). It trades on our obvious ugliness with obvious ugliness. And, it is wildly popular.

By watching it, I vote for it and he—and the show’s creators—get paid (the only vote that counts in this instance). A lot. And so we get what we get. The profane doing what they should be doing: Defiling the scared. On it’s golden night, no less.

The difference, of course, is that I can turn off the television. And, I don’t have to read the stories. The only solution in politics, is to vote—early and often.

On Atavism & Hashtaggery

Mr E Saunders — Thu, 10 Feb 2011 03:06:21 +0000

Not so recently, Allergic Girl (who’s new book, Allergic Girl: Adventures in Living Well With Food Allergies, is published 7 March), a “friend and colleague”—a description at which we have arrived after to-age and fro-age—, wrote an excellent post about her renewed interest in studying Hebrew. Sitting in the garden of the Museum of Modern Art discussing the subject with her, I had asked whether studying the language of her forebears filled her with “atavistic thrumming.”

I asked the question because it is a feeling I have had and continue to have when studying languages—in general but also, and more specifically and affectingly, when studying the languages of my forebears. I find that it is hard to study Latin and Italian and avoid being filled with a particular (though difficult to describe) sense of awe. There is some special feeling of connection—a non-specific gravity, “a buzzing and a ringing”—that I feel from the tips of my toes to the tips of my hair. I feel no particular increased capacity to study or understand the language, mind you. Studying languages is, for me, a labor of love in which the emphasis is on labor. Studying languages, I am often reminded of Justice Antonin Scalia’s quip in response to being asked whether he likes to write. The Justice (and Latinist), offering the ablative absolute for an answer, says, “I enjoy having written.”

All of which leads me to Susan Orleans’s book experiments on Twitter in which she has asked her fellow Twitterers to list the “#booksthatchangedmyworld” and then, “#booksthatchangekidsworlds.” (The results are posted on Free Range, the blog Ms Orlean writes for The New Yorker.)

Years ago, I went to a Metropolitan Museum of Art exhibition of ancient Persian and Syrian artifacts. It was extraordinary because among the most prominent artifacts were early samples of writing. And all the writing was lists. Lists of crops. Lists of prices. Lists of cities. Lists of dieties.

What if the ancient Persians had the hashtag.

Dept. of Personals: Glenn Gould

Mr E Saunders — Sun, 29 Aug 2010 20:48:08 +0000

Among the compositions Glenn Gould left behind: The text of a personals ad, which reads as follows:

Friendly, companionably reclusive, socially unacceptable, alcoholically abstemious, tirelessly talkative, zealously un-zealous, spiritually intense, minimally turquoise, maximally ecstatic loon seeks moth or moths with similar equalities for purposes of telephonic seduction, Tristan-esque trip-taking and permanent flame-fluttering.

No photos required.

Financial status immaterial.

All ages and non-competitive vocations considered.

Applicants should furnish cassettes of sample conversation, notarized certification of material disinclination, references re low-decibel vocal consistency, itinerary and sample receipts from previous successfully completed out-of-town moth flights.

All submissions treated confidentially.

No paws needs apply.

The auditions for all promising candidates will be conducted by and on Anaton Penisend, Newfoundland.