bummin’ over a lost friend
just about 30 minutes ago i was in my car, bumping the radio dial. this woman came up reading what i guess would be called “beat poetry”, but it wasn’t the usual hyped twaddle normally associated with the term. she had a nice, almost perfectly unaffected voice, and it kept me immediately from changing the dial. about 60 seconds longer, and i was digging it. within 2 minutes i wanted to meet her. wasn’t even sure what station it was, but i knew that i was going to track her down and spend some time with her, if possible (her willing, of course).
soon as i got home and put groceries away, i got on the internet and found the station’s web site. well, my gem girl, the kind of spirit i’ve been searching for for years, is (was) jack kerouac’s daughter jan. and she’s dead.
if she has more stuff like what i heard, i could listen to it for hours. so funny and smart, and i didn’t hear any socialism bullshit, though that disease tends to run with the supposedly arty set (so artless they’ve turned into thugs).
this is the curse of my being — having an art heart and a mind that refuses to accept bullshit. there aren’t many of us; that’s sure. wonder if jan kerouac was one. wonder if i’ll ever be able to play music again.
if she’s a goddamned socialist, don’t spoil it for me. let me have that one. “i have a dream!”