Chamblee54

Typing With Mr. K Part Three

Posted in Uncategorized by chamblee54 on March 29, 2011








This is a desecration of Satori in Paris, by Jack Kerouac. Parts one and two have already been published. Pictures are from ” The Special Collections and Archives,Georgia State University Library”
20- Mr. K is riding a train to Brest, drunk as a skunk and needing a bath. He does the only thing that is appropriate, he starts preaching. There are so many obvious things to say about this, maybe we should just skip ahead to the next chapter. Or maybe not. PG is listening to a Grateful Dead download, and it is surprisingly good. So many of these concert tapes are from the over the hill days of this establishment. This show is from 1972, in New Jersey . At this time, PG was working at Northlake Mall, following the Budweiser Clydesdales with a shovel. This was also about the time when Jane Fonda went to Hanoi.
21- The train pulls into Rennes, and Mr. Noblet gets off the conveyance. Mr. K gets a flask of cognac, which he is left to drink by himself. This chapter is important because it fixes the date of the action as being 1965. PG was 11 years old in 1965, and played pop warner football. Bob Dylan played the electric guitar at the Newport Folk Festival on July 25, 1965, and was condemned as a sellout. It is unlikely that Mr. K was aware of this, or of very much other than his supply of alcohol. The war in Vietnam was escalating at this time, which is one more reason to drink, as if Mr. K needs one.

22- Mr. K arrives in Brest. It is 3 am, and the only people on the streets are mean looking young men, who Mr. K is afraid of. He tries to stay away from them, and starts singing with a bunch of drunken sailors. He is quite a sight. Meanwhile, the free association that this writing exercise is supposed to cut loose…it just is not happening. PG just finished editing a picture of a police car, that was parked in front of a mountain of fertilizer. The welcome wagon had pulled over a careless driver, and the meeting was held in the parking lot of Lowes. This is the location of the Frito Lay potato chip factory, which moved on to greener pastures a few years ago. The Frito plant used to make the whole neighborhood smell like pork rinds, on the days when they cooked those, so that probably works out for the gendarmes giving those poor children a ticket.

23- There is not much action in chapter 23, just a bit of ramble on the concept of changing your name. It seemed like Mr. K, and his ancestors, had a variety of surnames, before settling on Kerouac. Now, PG has, until recently, been at peace with the name his parents gave him. ( Which is not PG, btw.) For some weird reason, his folks decided to call him by a short version of his middle name, which caused all mean and manner of confusion. Since PG had no shortage of insecurities, having a strange first name only added to the drama. Well, his first name is fine and dandy, his daddy isn’t using it anymore, so PG is in the process of changing to using his first name. Except to the drunk a few weeks ago, who said, do you want me to call you Cluether? This would be a great name for a detective, and if PG were to use this handle, he could never be said to be clueless. It is all something to think about.

24- Mr. K is regressing, and calling himself Ti Jean. This means something John, and it was somewhat of a childhood name. Anyway, he is alone, drunk, and scared in a foggy city at 3 in the morning. He finds a police station, and the policeman looks at his passport, and shook his hand. This agrees with the profile of the concierge of the download site. Your resident caveman: Netanderthalian .. I am a graphic designer and I really like to play dead … Political correctness is a poor substitute for the common sense. I’m an atheist and I am partial to Occam’s Razor. There are over 100 bands in my top 10 bands. Concierge is a cool word, besides sounding french. It was immortalized in the movie “the producers”. The man goes to a shabby apartment, and meets the concierge. When he leaves, he says thank you madame. To which she replied, I am not a madame, I’m a concierge.

25- There is some padding to the conversation here. The only action if for the police to take Mr. K to a small inn on Rue Victor Hugo. PG used to know a couple, whose last name was Igo. They had a dog named Hugo. Mr. Igo was a piece of G-d’s work, and he vanished for a while after his divorce. Mr. Igo was back later with a new wife, whose first name was Kay. Kay Igo was the shortest name in Tall Clubs International, only six letters. Mr. Igo, another John, like Mr. K., only much less literate, was still a nuisance. He volunteered to run a weekend for the Atlanta Sky Hi club, and ran out of town with the proceeds. It got rid of him, so it was probably a good deal all around.

26- Mr. K spends the night in the inn, without his suitcase. Maybe that was the story with Joseph and Mary, there was room at the inn, but their bags were on the next camel coming into town. The three wiseman did not bring gold, but a toothbrush. With books you never know how it is going to translate. Anyway, the next morning Mr. K wants a beer for breakfast, and the innkeep says he would sober up better with a good breakfast. Afterwards, Mr. K goes out in search of the lost valise. This Grateful Dead download is really good. It is about the time of the Europe 72 triple album, which was one of the first albums by them that PG enjoyed. The christmas break of 1972, PG’s friend Clam had a buford hiway apartment by himself, and him and PG stayed stoned the entire time. Europe 72 was one of the albums they listened to. The song playing now is Tennessee Jed. PG was playing this once, when his neighbor asked “do you like that?” When PG said yes, the neighbor said “you are a hick”.

27- Mr. K does not learn from experience. Once again, he is asking directions in a bar. A mailman does not know where the airline office is. This disturbs Mr. K, and compares it to giving an African tourist, in New York, directions to the Bowery, where he is murdered and dismembered by drug addicted punk rockers. Wait a minute, they did not have punk rockers in 1965. Never mind, said Emily Latella, who would come over from New Jersey to commit the foul deed herself. Bitch. However, Mr. K is persistent, and ignores all the bad vibes of a mailman who will not ring twice, and gets the directions to the airplane office from the bartender. This has not worked well in the past, but Mr. K is an optimist.

28- The bag will not arrive in Brest until noon, and Mr. K wants to get out of town. There is scenery there, but he does not have a hotel room, and there is no one to talk to. He can always drink by himself, and probably talk to himself, but he is waxing philosophical. Just like Michele Bachmann . She is a republican congresslady, who just says the darnedest things. “”And what a bizarre time we’re in, when a judge will say to little children that you can’t say the pledge of allegiance, but you must learn that homosexuality is normal and you should try it.””I find it interesting that it was back in the 1970s that the swine flu broke out then under another Democrat president Jimmy Carter. And I’m not blaming this on President Obama, I just think it’s an interesting coincidence.” “How did the pig get out of the pen? The swine flew” Miss Bachmann only said two of those three things.

29- Just before PG gets frustrated at the lack of action in this volume of typing, the pace picks up. Mr. K is in a bar, drinking away his last two hours in Brest. The barkeep takes bets over the telephone, which is how the place makes it’s money. So, Mr. K gets to chatting with the man, and before long is talked into meeting one of the Lebris (spell check suggestion: Debris, Celebrity, Bristle )family that still lives in Brest. He takes another bet, and talks about the Lebris gynecologist who loves the thighs of women. So, Mr. K is fascinated by now, and probably starting to be less drunk, and agrees to walk over to the restaurant where Mr. Libris can be found.






One Response

Subscribe to comments with RSS.

  1. […] of Satori in Paris, by Jack Kerouac. This is the last installment. Parts one , two , and three have already seen the light of day. Pictures are from ” The Special Collections and […]


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: