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Back The Underminer
Chapters (21)
  1. Cover Page
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Table of Contents
  5. Bright Young Things campus of Clarkwell College, graduation in the town of Clarksville, somewhere upstate, 1990
  6. Cool Days open mike night at Kafka-fe, after band "2 Much" plays, 1991
  7. New on the Scene utside in front of Club Hush, for a film screening party of Kill Fee, 1993 o
  8. Single in the City at a French bistro, 1995
  9. Hangover brunch, the morning after, 1995
  10. Natural Health a chance meeting at Jasper’s Yoga Studio, 1996
  11. The Fat Flush ’90s in the foyer of a friend’s renovated brownstone, 1997
  12. Art Stars at Bonwyck Gallery, 1998
  13. Inner Odyssey the Burning Man festival in Nevada’s Black Rock Desert, 1999
  14. Life After Death facedown in the dirt of the desert, next morning, 1999
  15. Loyal Companions catching up at the dog run, 2000 catching up at the dog run, 2000
  16. In the Real World a run-in at the ShopShape magazine launch party sponsored by Senor Strawberry Liqueur, early 2001
  17. Wartime spotted at Kinko's, late 2001
  18. Office Job in the cafeteria of the Conde Nast building, 2003
  19. Settling a yard sale on an obscure block in the outer borough, 2003
  20. Starting Over in a remote village tavern on the farmlands of New Zealand, 2004
  21. Epilogue a gathering of friends

Actually I wish I had seen you about a year ago because I was at South by Southwest, and weirdly became good, good friends with that incredibly well-known music producer, Danny Lanois. I needed a place to stay and he said, "Why don't you just stay with me up at Lucinda Williams's house?" And of course I had to suppress my complete giddy shock that I was going to stay at her house—I mean, Lucinda Williams is like a living icon of Alt-Country Rock! So I did and we had a great time just drinkin' Pabst and shooting tin cans and stuff. She is really as cool as she seems. I helped her with her lyrics on her new, widely praised album. Anyway I was thinking about you because it's the kind of thing you used to say you would, like, slit your face off to do just once.

You. Um. You're kind of. . . um. You're in someone's way. Behind you.

Sorry sir . . .

Do you. . .need to pass around those spinach quiches? I can wait here if you need to, like, do some work or something.

Did you get Jacob's new album? I mean how could you not. He's like the Garth Brooks of modern rock. Or like the alive Kurt Cobain without the fatal depression. He's so cute. He really charmed the A&R reps because he sent out cassette tapes instead of spending all that money on the latest technology. People found it endearing and kind of raw and real. It gives his music a warmer sound. You think he's sold out? I think his album The Education of Jacob is actually great.

No I totally, totally understand your point. I totally do. Sure sure sure. It just bums me out how some people are stuck on the idea that just because somebody makes money they aren't talented. It's sort of like what you tried to do with Sheila. Which is fine if you want to speak out but it smells sour, you know? I'm not saying that that is what you are arguing! I just think there's some smell to it. To that general argument. The general argument smells sour.

Are they vegemarian? The quiches. They are? OK if you don't mind I would love one.

Meanwhile remember Frank Spitz? From college? He was a TA for that lame Folk and Myth seminar—that one I withdrew from? I think you wanted openly to have sex with him?