One, really.

It took a bleedin' number to actually get to the museum, but it was all worth it in the end.

I had to mainly close shop for the classes I have been teaching the last month, so I couldn't get out of the school until a bit. The expressway to yr frenz taken in breezely, and the turnoff @ 22d was divine. A series of left hooks to skirt the Loop's defiles took the Strasser to the wilderness of the area around Bonniax's crib. Wilderness of addresses, that is: his block inconviently is bisected by not only an expressway, but also a major E-W street (Chicago), a major 'crooked' street (Ogden), and Racine. To further the craziness, the subway runs rite underneath his crib. So when I got to the vacinity, it took me a great deal of wandering- first moterized and then on foot - to finally come to the conclusion that I would never find the place. This was a real prob, since I didn't have his # handy. However, I knew Gallo was gonna be there and I also knew Jackson would get in touch if I called him- both called, both machines. I told them to leave the message that I was lost and to just go to the Intuit. I ran into Intuit to see if they were there- no. I went to look for the car, and.............was lost. I went back to where I though I'd left it, but was met w/ an empty slot in the street were a Strasser could fit and a bag over the defective coin machine thing on the street - yes, I thought I was towed for 4-5m there. Wandering found my car, reparked it in a more legal spot, and then loooked up- I'd wandered, chancely as hell, rite to Bonnaix's door. But where they will there??

Yes- not just there, but Bonniax was actually in his doorway screaming out for Book'm to arrive. So i was fine, partly. I knew William Randolph Heurst was arriving to the Intuit soon, so I wanted to no delay. The Glimmer Twins were sitting on the couch w/ a blasted out Frankie Diamond. He was out, and was even more outta here before I arrived. He would not come with us. But we waited for Book'm and wife to get there. When they did, we rang down the back metal stairs and out onto the street from the secret exit, and fuck if we weren't exactly next to the front door of the Intuit. Everyone inside, with me finishing, first..............

I was suprised by the number of people, and that number grew. We hung out for 2h or so, and the place was jammed- lines, hard to maneuver, etc... The crowd ran the gamut. Art types. Some young, but Gallo said that we were skewed on the young sid in this crowd. Funky art types and suits. Even some street people types who knew. And, I gotta say, some sexy ass types. Lots, really. It was jut a real nice, large, interesting and diverse crowd.

We scattered about, mixing and matching. William Randolh found. Don Perignon, an old work buddy of Blackie who I had predicted in an earlier post would be here (because he always shows up @ openings) was, but he didn't have the wonderous looker on his arm this time. I KNEW HE WAS GONNA BE THERE. I KNEW IT !!!! I did a lot of talking and laughng and cheese and champaign (not free, suggested donations) and very little of looking @ art. Funny.

But look I did. There were two especial draws in the opening- a series of mugg shots from criminals from times past, and a recreation of the room where Darger lived and worked up his art. Although I was in a tizzy enjoying myself, I will say I paused (after a 5m wait in line) pondering Dargers room; piled heaped up magazines and paints strewn about, framed pictures of girls cut out from magazines, Jesus, tornados, boxes of saved twine and rubber bands, and all other sorts of stuff : boy, when we go, we really leave it all behind. A bit of a pack rat, the lesson resonated. Has been for the last few years, as my purchasing of books for my personal library has noticably slowed. I also pledge to stop saving the rubber bands and twine myself. Just kidding- just Darger.

Funny intereaction noticed. Lots of people, right? Lots of camera and boom mics. The Glimmer Twins, William Randolf and I were interviewed by NPR, mainly 'cause my vanity asked the girl with the mic to ome over and talk to us. But funny the interview subjects vibes: of the four, only one really looked comfortable answering questions- like he has been answering questions posed in front of microphone for many years. And no, it wasn't me- I more resembled a happy dog wagging tounge out excitmentplease please please talk to meeeeeeeee!!!! than the Glimmer Twins and W.R. But anyway, we'll be on NPR sometime next week, and yes, after one of the us find out when we're on (me depend on the kindness of nonstrangers) and relay that to me, I will relay it to you. Find out how many times I have been fingerprinted !!! And then there were the paparazzi. Since it as an opening, the place wanted to have a colection to put on their site or magazine. Why yes you can take our picture. The Glimmer Twins and I, all full out models of the highest degree, were now ALL IN OUR ELEMENT. Sure some dog snaps, but the paparazzi worked with us, and we posed that shit down. She took tonnes of snaps of us, so hopefully our muggs will end up in some magazine. Yes, I did manage to make sure my middle initial was included when she asked our names. Vanity, they name is Flattery. Or straddling that name*. Again, when we find it, then we update you. If the Glimm's haven't already. But both of those experiences were kool.

The glimmer twins went to eat downtown, but WR and I went next door for many coctails @ The Matchbox- and yes, aptly named. It seems to be a fomer traincar that has been made into a bar trianbar, and there's barely room to scrape by its so skinny. to further the theme, the space actually narrows as one goes to the bathroom area. However, people are used to it and let each person slip by- the to-getherness of it all. They had cider in a can, and they were Irish sized pints, so I had what- 32z of cider in only two drinx?? Ugg.. The next day.. The stomach..

Finished Fridaynite by steak burrito-ing @ La Pasadita. Super food. The one closest to Division, if I remember correctly (an important fact to maybe ten mutherfuckers that read this blog- "Which Pasadita did we eat @?" There are three restuaunts of the same name in a 100 foot area two side by side and one across Ashland, and many people have preferences as to which one is best. Me: I can't tell th difference. Whenever I go to Pasadita The lone one on the east side of Ashland never gets a shoutout. So- to the ten fuxx to wanna know- Im pretty sure it was the one closest to Division. Kicked ass, and leftovers!!)

Drove home. Womb. Weary. Rest.

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*= sorry, but Jutland finally starts to stir its head in mine. Soon.