From my notebook journal:

Dubuque Iowa, Alte Glocke Restaurant, Julian Inn

I’m at the Alte Glocke Restaurant, in the basement of the Julien Inn, Dubuque, Iowa—it’s a German themed place—a cute little “U” shaped counter is where the regulars sit—old guys. I order “American Fries” with cheese and onions, and I ask if there is a choice of cheese, and the waitress says, “American, or cheddar cheese sauce, or sliced…” and then she pauses, not sure. Classic. It’s—let’s see how the food is… I’m staying at the Canfield Hotel—it’s great—it’s the place Andy and Karen recommended. It’s pretty amazing—like $32 a night (plus tax)—and it’s pretty spectacular, weird, and old—and just plain weird. I can’t write about it now—I’ll take some pictures and try to remember—and come back later, some day, hopefully.

Started out today by turning on the TV—big mistake! I saw on the scrolling TV guide, “Fox and Friends” and I thought, Fassbinder, cool!—but it’s Fox News right wing commentary—a woman talking about Colin Powell’s statement: “The world is beginning to doubt the moral basis of our fight against terrorism.” And this woman says, I know he’s a smart guy, but I don’t understand… doing her best Rush Limbaugh imitation, being totally flabbergasted, like somebody just said something completely bizarre. Why is “I don’t understand!”—the expression of total ignorance and relative stupidity—always used as a tactic of the extreme right wing’s expression of moral superiority?

The one way The Canfield Hotel could be better is to have no TV whatsoever, becaue I personally have a weakness when it comes to hotel rooms and TV—I turn them on. Last night I saw “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” on the listing, and I said, that’s cool, I’m always jumping at any chance to see James Mason. I turned it on and it’s a TV SHOW! I mean, maybe it’s not that bad, but I wanted the movie—I couldn’t watch it.

I’m eavesdropping on the guys at the counter now. One guy’s talking about his friend who was really particular about keeping the books somewhere, I guess. “Keith died 20 years ago—looking for that dime…” I guess the guy was obsessed with perfection, and that’s what killed him. That makes me think of MY friend Keith, who died almost 20 years ago. Could it be that long already? I guess it is. When you start thinking about people who have died, you think about all that time, and what they have missed, the good and the bad. There’s been a lot of bad, that’s for sure. But a lot of good, too.

Canfield Hotel, Dubuque, Iowa

Donuts: The Motion Picture

Sandusky, Ohio. I’m at Markley’s, early, but the donut machine isn’t going, and there are no donuts. I’m afraid to ask about it and find out the donut machine is broken beyond all repair, retired, or gone, and make everyone there sad, myself included, just by bringing it up. What would REALLY make me sad, though, is to be able to eat donuts again and THEN find out they’re not making them anymore. It’s a weird kind of backwards, convoluted way of looking at things I have, I guess. Hey, I just thought of something! This is a great metaphor! A great metaphor, overall, for life or something. Well, maybe not for life. But for something.

Hunting For Hidden Gold (last part)

So I went down to investigate, this was about a month ago, while the workers were taking their dinner break and left the hole unguarded. I climbed down the ladder, and what I found there astounded me! I don't know if I should write about it here because no one will believe me. I'll just say that there was no gold, but there was an underground world that was as vast as an entire continent! There I discovered a utopian society and a community of people who worked together without conflict or self-interest. I was introduced to a new kind of sex with no reproduction or disease, a delicious but healthy diet, and music that is composed and played with the human mind.

When I returned to the surface, just this morning, I found out that I had missed the election (though fortunately I had voted by absentee ballot through the free but efficient and reliable underground mail system). I emerged from the earth to find the president gripping, Rumsfeld had gotten the axe, and the Wisconsin's love nazis had voted that gays and non-christians had no right to exist. I felt like the groundhog-- I didn't know whether to come out of the hole or stay down there. But like the groundhog, I realized that no matter what I did we'd still have an ungodly amount of bitter, miserable winter left.