today is charles bukowski’s birthday, he’s 24

charles bukowski let it kill youborn in a rowboat in Lake Los Angeles during the stock market crash, charles bukowski, americas greatest poet, never saw riches until he was in his 50s and never cared about them once he had them.

what he loved he did, be he broke or wealthy: the drink, the dance, the fight, the fuck.

he had a higher voice than youd expect and he sang when he spoke.

how do you doooooo, he’d say as his horse rounded the home stretch with the lead.

he loved to gamble on the ponies so much that he’d often drop off his wife at the huntington library in pasadena even if the horses were running in hollywood park. afterwards he would pick her up. was he drunk? probably. did he ever get a DUI?

did mark twain?

did hemingway?

did Moses?

if you were talking to Tom Petty right now would you ask him such a question?

Charles “Henry” Bukowski loved cats and classical music. he didnt care for your questions unless you were a pretty girl at a poetry reading at a college where he was invited to speak. and then he would just watch their lips move and eyes crinkle and hair gently flow.

did he ever cheat on any of his girlfriends or wives? WHERE DID YOU GET THESE QUESTIONS? DID ROOSEVELT? DID MONROE? DID LASORDA?

he smoked when he drank and drank when he wrote and wrote in a rocking chair in front of a typewriter until the year 19 hundred and 90, the year punk broke when he switched over to an Apple Quadra. the step brother of the Mac. a very young Steve Jobs himself  poured sand in Bukowski’s keyboard so the clicking sounds would be louder.

once Jobs offered Bukowski LSD but the poet didn’t want any of that nonsense. he wasn’t a Beat! he’d bellow. give that hippie crap to Ferlinghetti or Proust or Philben! he just wanted a cold bottle of something bubbly

and your undying love.

you, the one with the ruby red lip colors

you with the barrette

you with the notepad half filled with scribbles.

hop into my rowboat.

howard stern says he sees a shrink 3-4 times a week

LAand you know i love howard but im not sure his shrink is working.

howard has one of the greatest jobs in the world, he gets to talk to people. on the radio. for millions of dollars a year. tens of millions.

but howard hates his job so much that he only goes in three times a week and then has to take a week off.

it’s sort of a dream job in that sense but he swears he’s tortured. he swears he hates going outside. he swears he hates traveling during his vacations. he just wants to sit around and paint or play chess or watch tv.

im not sure that shrink is working because im pretty sure thats not what we as humans are supposed to enjoy the most.

especially humans who have met hundreds of humans over a lifetime and gotten them to talk about the most fascinating parts of their lives.

i bring up shrinks because i have had writers block on something for the last few months that i cannot unblock. i told beautiful zulieka about it and she advised that i should just write it and if it comes out bad, fine, just rewrite it but it will be easier the second time.

i agree.

but what if what i want to write is a proposal to change everything. what if what i am writing is my essay for why i should go to mars and die there. what if what i am afraid of is the same thing howard is avoiding which is if we put it all out there then we are lost then we are not us. we will have no control. we will be forever changed.

when howard holds back from his audience he may not be thrilled with the results but at least he knows he affected something. that weird sad element of control has been enabled and he can see it.

likewise when i dont do something i can see the lack of growth and i know i did it. i know. i know.

its a small, dumb, foolish game. and all i have to do is say to myself, no i wont uber tonight, i will drive straight home after work and i will write the thing that will only take two hours to write and i will send it to nasa and that will be that and then they will read it and say duh of course why didnt we think of that and i can go on my merry way and my life will be forever changed.

but best of all, i will have helped others. which, howard, i think is the point of us being on this planet.

and we should stop being selfish with our crazy magic.