On 40 Meters
It was then that I knew—out there in that dark river there are shoals, out there, there are people who can really do it. Somewhere there’s a guy who can re-a-ll-y, really make it move! And that there are limits.
I can only say to the rest of you guys, you kids out there—you’re lucky. You have not yet been put to the test. You have not, at three o’clock in the morning, met a guy who can really write a play. You have not met, at four o’clock in the morning, a guy who could really act. You have not met, at 4:15 AM, a guy who could send and receive above two hundred watts on forty, sixty-five words a minute in coded groups without even missing a beat for a half hour on end. And until you do, you are living in a dream—a dream.
Once Morse code gets hold of your soul, buddy, it gets ahold of your soul
and gnaws at it and never lets go.
Artsy Fartsy began with my idea to add comments about some of my unexpected art experiences at the tail-end of my blog posts that’re focused on my longest-running art-related obsessions. The category that began October 18, 1999 with an obituary in the New York Times, has no end in sight. It’s about the guy who, in significant part, helped make me and many other nerds and loners into more perceptive adults. (Jerry Seinfeld, for one, said about him: “He really formed my entire comedic sensibility. I learned how to do comedy from Jean Shepherd.”) More about that later.
It’s a book. It’s art. It’s believable but true. It’s artsy fartsy.
Go into art’s world and find your own artsys to fartsy.
Explore the nitty, the gritty, and the funky.
Am I, in many of this book’s inclusions, just being an egomaniac?
Am I an embarrassment to my kids?