Sunday, December 30, 2007


…I’m kind of a cross between William F. Buckley Jr. & Jed Clampett, me being sort of an erudite hillbilly, a Hill William if you will, upper crust lower class…I appreciate the trappings of the wealthy class, the aristocracy, but if I am called to visit any of the autocratic redoubts, high in their lofty airy aeries, well I’m gonna track a little mud onto the Aubusson, get dirt on the Hepplewhites and during the Henry the 8th feeding frenzy stand back for I’m of the Medieval manner born and must needs plough through the trough shaking my jowly trencherman’s flews and send flying all sorts of festering detritus…visigoths don’t do Amy Vanderbilt, so you might want to think twice about it, Emily, before you actually put the invite to dinner in the post.

As a tyro on a small big-city daily newspaper I used to think I was Hemingway-ish but thankfully I caught on before I got trapped in any of his bombast; better to write like John Fante, Celine, Frederick Exley, Seth Morgan; I’m not going to blast Papa Hemingway too much, though I have run him over the coals in the past, but what’s the sense of it? In those days I could have made the earth move too, life was a moveable feast but the sun also rises so I decided I would head back across the river and into the trees.

…where I remain in seclusion today, seclusion - the only thing I have in common with J. D. Salinger, but in seclusion is the only place I am able to write, whether good bad or indifferent it is a task best undertaken alone.

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