--- Anny Ballardini <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Jeex, 2 nice days in a year_ I just listened to
> Prairie Home Companion, I
> know, I know, nobody likes it here....
>
>How brave you are, Verena!
Candice
>
> On 8/5/07, Frederick Pollack <[log in to unmask]>
> wrote:
> >
> > ----- Original Message -----
> > From: "Kenneth Wolman" <[log in to unmask]>
> > To: <[log in to unmask]>
> > Sent: Sunday, August 05, 2007 4:33 PM
> > Subject: Re: I said he was my favorite literary
> character...
> >
> >
> > > Frederick Pollack wrote:
> > >>
> > >> I see Pynchon's point about the "width and
> tallness" of the wind along
> > >> 14th St. But as a native and ever-homesick
> Chicagoan I must say that,
> > >> for sheer intensity of Venturi effect, any
> east-west street in the
> > Loop,
> > >> between State St. and Michigan Avenue, beats
> 14th St. by a mile. Plus
> > >> the tendency for that wind to change direction
> in an instant - off the
> > >> prairie, then off the Lake - without losing
> speed. Carried me and my
> > >> umbrella a block once when I was ten.
> > >
> > > Xmas week 1973 I go to the MLA convention, held
> that year in Chicago.
> > > They stuck us in great hotels: I was in the
> Palmer House. All the
> > > graduate students are job-hunting, very taut and
> open to raucousness.
> > > Male faculty, after a year in Binghamton, act
> like a bunch of miners
> > down
> > > the hills of Colorado. So do the females. We
> start drinking Canadian
> > > Club at 9:00 AM. Parties, condolence sessions,
> bacchanalia all the
> > > livelong day. I get to witness Leslie Fiedler
> groping two women at
> > once.
> > > The party is the Joyce Society or some such
> thing and it feels like 100
> > > people stuffed into a room the size of a
> wristwatch. Everyone is
> > smoking
> > > something and everyone is real drunk. Later, my
> roomie and I kill
> > another
> > > bottle at 2:00 AM. I leave him watching Lanza
> in The Great Caruso and
> > > pass out. Oddly, I don't feel drunk. At 7:00 I
> get my wake-up call
> > from
> > > the desk. Immediately I am convinced I am going
> to die. My fingernails
> > > hurt. Once I am able to get out of bed without
> fear of a technicolor
> > yawn
> > > all over the carpet, I discover the pain of
> water in a shower. Years
> > > later I am reminded of this horror when I read
> about a very ill Teresa
> > of
> > > Avila confined to a Spanish sanatorium where
> they tie dead chickens to
> > her
> > > suppurating wounds, figuring one poison drives
> out another. I slink
> > into
> > > corners afraid someone will spot me. This is
> hilarious since everyone
> > is
> > > in the Parker House coffee shop nursing
> independently-acquired
> > hangovers.
> > >
> > > The operator on the phone had cheerily announced
> that it was 35 degrees
> > in
> > > Chicago. That doesn't sound cold. Then I hit
> Michigan Avenue, hangover
> > > and brains in hand, and discover a typhoon
> blowing up...and the freaking
> > > SUN is out. Binghamton got cold too but the
> wind always died down when
> > > the temperature approached laboratory absolute
> zero. THIS is atrocious.
> > > "Windy City" they called it. I suppose they
> still call it that?
> > >
> > > ken
> > >
> > > --
> > The Palmer House should have warned you. Wind
> chill in Chicago can make
> > Minnesotans cry. -- Summer, on the other hand,
> kills people by the
> > hundreds.
> > There are two nice days a year. You wait for
> them. Hopefully see them
> > out
> > in a blues club on Lincoln Boulevard.
> >
>
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