Tosh Berman's Blog, page 199

"Film as Film: The Collected Writings of Gregory J. Markopoulos" edited by Mark Webber

9780992837709  The Visible Press
As of this time and moment, I have seen only two films by the Greek American filmmaker Gregory J. Markopoulos.  "Galaxie" and "Gammelion."  If I was a cine-purist, I would have seen these films at the perfect location for his work, which is Temenos in Greece.  His life-time work is to have all his films to be presented in this location, which is outdoors, and some miles away from Athens.   Remote, and probably not that easy to get to - yet the journey itself I'm sure is magnificent, and if the two films I saw are example of his other works, probably more likely worth the trouble.   It is refreshing to come here upon an artist/filmmaker who doesn't compromise their work for....anyone!


  This marvelous collection of essays/poetry/rants/thoughts by Markopoulos is an essential to anyone who is interested in American underground film world.  Specifically in the heights of the 1960s through the 80s.  The source of these writings are from self-published works or Jonas Mekas' excellent publication of the 60s FILM CULTURE.  And some are lectures or introductions to his work throughout the world.  Markopoulos is on the same league as Stan Brakhage and Kenneth Anger.   An important artist, that the few only know or have seen his works.  As an anthology this book reads well - I think not only due to Markopoulos' writings, but also the editorship of Mark Webber, and the additional overall great design of the book.   Webber has put together tight chapters or sections that focus on his work as a commentator on other filmmakers, as well as focusing on his films and of course, the projection of his complete works in Greece, which is sort of an installation piece.

The two films I saw were pretty hypnotic, not only due to its editing, but also how one is drawn to his subject matter.  "Galaxie" is a compilation of film portraits of various (mostly well-known filmmakers/artists) in the New York world of the early 60s.  It is all an amazing snapshot of a time, but also you can tell how Markopoulos feels about his subject matters as well.  The film is silent, except what sounds like bells in the background, is 92 minutes and not one boring moment was had.   "Gammelion" is a study on a castle in Italy, and one is almost peeking around the corner.   It's a beautiful film and almost meditative in its approach at 'looking' at a structure.  Markopoulos has an eye for beautiful buildings and great looking people ("Galaxie").  The book is a must have if you make a film library, and anyone who is interested in film aesthetics must-have this as well. Hopefully this will not the last word on Markopoulos, but it is clearly the first - and that this book, is an exceptional book.

www.thevisiblepress.com

April 8, 1962: Telstar by The Tornados

April 8, 1962
I went to my local record store, Mono Records, to get the new Tornadoes album called "The Original Telstar."  I have heard the song "Telstar" on the radio and I was intrigued with the sound of outer space that somehow landed on KRLA airwaves. Most of my friends go out and buy 45rpm singles, but I have always preferred the 12" or 10" album format.  A lot of times, the songs are not as good as the more familiar hit song by the artist - but I feel I'm getting a full picture of that band or singer's work.  Also at this point I don't have that many albums in my collection.   Maybe 8 or 10 albums at the most.  I would get more, but the cost of albums, which are usually anywhere from $1.99 to $2.99 is expensive for me.   I had a job, but I didn't like it.  I was pumping gas at a Shell gas station on the corner of Fletcher and Riverside, but I found the customers rude - and my feelings get hurt really easily. 
I still live at home, and luckly my mom didn't kick me out when I reached 21.  I'm 22 at the moment, and I still feel like a new breeze on a hot day.  One day I'll move on, perhaps to a better world, but alas, my mom is a great cook.  She works during the day, so my responsibility is to do the house work, such as making the beds, cleaning the kitchen and bathroom, and organize the bills that come in by the date that they are due.  I'm sort of like her secretary.  On my free time, I listen to my small collection of recordings.
The Tornadoes are from the U.K. and they're an instrumental band.  Clem Cattini (24) on drums, George Bellamy (22) on rhythm guitar, Heinz Burt (20) on bass guitar, Roger La Vern (24), on piano and some sort of organ, and Alan Caddy (22) on lead guitar.   Together they're The Tornadoes.  Of the twelve songs that are on this album, their lead guitarist Caddy wrote two songs, and their producer Joe Meek wrote four - so I have to imagine that they are both the leaders of the band.  
One of my favorite songs on this album is "Popeye Twist," which uses the melody or theme song from the Popeye cartoon TV series.  Like the title says, they give the beat a twist, and it's a rocking number.  It's the last song on the album (side two) and it's a good way to say goodbye to the listener.  The album starts off with "Telstar" which is the hit off this record.  I imagine if they were making music in outer space, this tune would sound like it came above the clouds.  There is a sense of hope for the future. Yet to me the recording sounds a tad sad.  One thinks that there is nothing but hope in outer space yet, the way we treat people on planet Earth, would we even change our ways once in space?  So maybe that is why the recording is both sad and hopeful for a better world or happiness elsewhere.  
I'm also quite fond of "Love and Fury," written by Duke, which sounds like to me the introduction music to a great adventure story.  When I go to the movies, I try to see an action film, and if possible, in technicolor.  If I pay money for something, I want to be taken away from my everyday life into a world of beauty.  I especially like films that take place in a foreign country or culture.  "Love and Fury" sounds like the soundtrack to that type of movie.  It's bigger than life, and when I listen to it, I feel like I'm being sucked into a very special world.  Due that I share this small house with my mom, I listen a lot to my music on headphones, and this particular recording sounds incredible to my private ears.  
Which comes to mind this is not music one wants to share with others, but more of a private or reflective listening experience.  I sense bold emotions but told in a miniature manner, where a small gesture can lead to a bigger truth of some sort.   A lot of the songs here express a desire such as "Chasing Moonbeams," "Dreamin' On A Cloud," Ridin' The Wind," and "Jungle Fever."  These recordings were made in London, and what I have read is that since the war ended, they are still having difficulties with buildings still abandoned or blown up - and the economy is struggling.  So I have to imagine that these songs appeal to the citizen of London (and elsewhere) where they feel the disaster of the 20th century upon them.  I live in Southern California, where things are not that bad, but at least we got good weather.  So hearing this music in that situation or position, it makes me feel happy that I'm here - but on the other hand I have never heard such strange music like this Tornadoes album.
I know I should be looking for a job, or at the very least, think of my future.  On the other hand, when I hear "The Original Telstar," I feel that the future maybe here already, but I'm just not aware of it at this time.  I dream, and I know this album will be its soundtrack. 

Conversation Between Tosh Berman and Gerry Fialka - Where I give my Opinion about everything...

A two-hour interview where I expose all my feelings, thoughts, and god knows what else.  It's here and the gentleman who is interviewing me is Gerry Fialka.    It's here:

https://archive.org/details/ToshBerman

The Sunday Series: April 5, 2015

Sunday April 5, 2015
The closest thing I have, that I think are god-like is my parents.  When my father died when I was 21, it was not only a shock of losing a parent, but realizing that a god can die.  It was at that point in my life I realized that I couldn't count on a higher being or a person to help me out.  If anyone is going to pull myself out of trouble, it will have to be me.   One tends to surrender to a higher power.  Whatever that means to that person, but for me, that strikes me as a very dangerous position to be in.   Faith as a noun, is a thing that one believes in.  I understand the need to believe, and also to be part of something bigger than you.  Religion and family are such a grouping where one hopes to find comfort and hope.  Of course, there are even conflicts in both groupings, which do not make it either an enjoyable experience or give one a sense of security.  Throughout my life I remain outside the two categories, due that I find them both faulty as institutions and over-all, leads to either a controlling factor in one's life, or a game of loyalty.  In the city where I live, Los Angeles, I feel that there is a huge presence of gangs. I think of gangs as a family.  Usually there is a parental figure - or a father figure.  One joins the gang, either due to previous family practice, or the need to be part of a bigger group or family.  The Los Angeles Police Department is another gang.  It operates on the same plane as a criminal street gang.   But this is not the subject of my essay here, it's the return of Jesus to our planet on this Easter Sunday. 
There is a man who has lived on the vacant hill next to our house for the entire past week.  He has a full beard and longish hair, and wears mostly a dirty white robe, whose fabric seems too heavy for this warm season.  He has nothing except a lamb that he carries around.  Often the lamb fallows him around, and both creature and man rarely communicate with any other.  He basically sleeps on the weeds, using the lamb as a pillow.  I have seen people with their dogs, but never have I seen a man and a lamb together.  It makes me feel funny about the wool sweater I have in the closet.  I hope to never wear it in front of this lamb.  


Today it's Sunday and it is Easter, and one could easily presume that this gentleman and his pet are part of the holiday.  There's a church down below the hill, and occasionally the patrons of this specific church stand behind the fence that divides the property between the land owned by the Department of Water and Power and the church.  Over the years, there have been disputes between me, DWP, and the church whose responsibility to clean up the mess that is left here by visitors, homeless people and various gang members.   Today, all eyes are on our current guess resident and his lamb.  
I can clearly understand someone who wants to help Jesus, but don't fully understand why anyone would want to 'serve' Jesus.   If one dares to approach him, he does preach to you - and I once asked him why doesn't he just write it down, that way people can read his views at their leisure.   It seems he doesn't work that way, which for me is unthinkable.  Because I like to write, and to this day I rather communicate to people either through a letter or e-mail.  For instance, I don't like the telephone.  Or to be lost in a conversation with someone.   But Jesus (the historical one as this fellow) prefers to dictate their belief through the art of oral narration.   I got the feeling, knowing that I write, would want me to take his dictation down, but that's silly.  There are computer apps and programs that can do that, if he had a computer.  Alas, he doesn't.  He just has his lamb. 
All of us, meaning the neighborhood came to the hill this Easter morning to see what will happen with our guest and his lamb.  We were all shocked to see that Jesus dug a hole it seemed, overnight, and at the moment, he is roasting his lamb over a flame and coal.  First of all, this is obviously a fire hazard, and second, being a vegetarian I was very much turned-off by what was taking place in front of me.  At first, I couldn't believe my eyes.  I thought maybe he purchased or someone donated some big hunk of meat for him.   My eyes and brain started to work together, and then I realized that the head attached to the rest of the body was the lamb.  The creature's face was still recognizable, and had fur still, even though burnt, you can make out the features - but the rest of the body was just meat.  The smell was horrible as well.  I don't understand why Jesus had to do this on our hill on what looks like will be a beautiful morning.   



Jesus had paper plates, and he started to cut the lamb into pieces and placing it on the plate, and he went out to the small crowd and offered each person a plate of lamb, with lemon on the side.   He came up to me, but I turned down his plate, but I was very polite and told him "No, thank you."  What I did notice is that the crowd that was around became very supportive of our Jesus, and the doubters became if not a friend exactly, at least showed some support.  As I stood there, I didn't feel like I was part of the family, so I went back to my house and played the vinyl version of Steve Reich's "Four Organs" on headphones.  For one, the music sounds better on headphones, and second, I didn't want to share the music with the outside world. 

Tosh Berman's "June 1, 2014" on E-Bay

http://www.ebay.com/itm/June-1-2014-by-Tosh-Berman-/191547541114?pt=LH_DefaultDomain_0&hash=item2c991f867a

"Showdown at Forktongue Canyon"

My dad, Wallace Berman, made this poster/flyer for a benefit that took place in Topanga Canyon in 1971.  Hardcore Topanga culture. 

Jean-Claude Vannier and Serge Gainsbourg's Lost Film Score: New CD Box Set.

A holy grail of the Gainsbourg-Vannier catalogue has surfaced after 45 years.Serge Gainsbourg and Jean-Claude Vannier’s music for the 1969 film Les Chemins de Katmandou, thought to have been lost forever after the master tapes were supposedly destroyed, has resurfaced.Earlier this year a copy of the master tapes was discovered up in an old suitcase by the daughter of Vannier’s former copyist. That’s Vannier in the photo above, holding the newly recovered music. The tapes have since been transferred and mastered, and portions of the score will finally be released on the forthcoming expanded reissue of Le Cinema De Serge Gainsbourg, a 5CD box set compiling the bulk of the influential French songwriter and composer’s music for film.Le Cinema De Serge Gainsbourg will also include a number of additional previously unreleased score excerpts, including music from 1980’s Equateur (a film directed by Gainsbourg himself), and a newly discovered piece recorded by Gainsbourg and Vannier for the legendary score to Pierre Granier-Deferre’s 1970 film La Horse.The box set, produced and compiled by Stéphane Lerouge, includes over six hours of music spanning 1959 to 1990, and includes collaborations with noted composers and arrangers Vannier, Alain Goraguer, Michel Colombier, Arthur Greenslade, and Jean-Pierre Sabar. Rare songs recorded with vocalists Jane Birkin, Anna Karina, Nico, Juliette Gréco, and Michèle Mercier will also be included.The limited-edition 5CD box set will be released by EmArcy/Mercury/Universal France on April 20 (the proximity to Record Store Day is a coincidence). There has been talk of a vinyl release, said to include the Katmandoumaterial, but no details of a release date or tracklist has yet been announced.Check out the artwork and tracklist for the CD set below. [via Mikey Jones] Tracklist:CD1
1. L’eau a la bouche – Serge Gainsbourg
2. Angoisse – Alain Goraguer
3. Black march – Alain Goraguer
4. Les loups dans la bergerie – Alain Goraguer
5. Cha cha cha du loup – Alain Goraguer
6. Les loups dans la bergerie – Alain Goraguer & His Orchestra
7. Fuite du rouquin – Alain Goraguer & His Orchestra
8. Strip tease – Juliette Gréco
9. Some small chance – Alain Goraguer
10. Rendez-vous a la calvados – Alain Goraguer
11. Wake me at five – Alain Goraguer
12. Solitude – Alain Goraguer
13. Effeuillage – Alain Goraguer
14. Crazy horse swing – Alain Goraguer
15. Comment trouvez-vous ma soeur? – Serge Gainsbourg
16. Erotico tico – Michel Colombier
17. Rocking horse – Michel Colombier
18. Quart d’heure américain – Michel Colombier
19. Rendez-vous a l’eglise – Michel Colombier
20. Comment trouvez-vous ma sour? – Michel Colombier
21. L’escroc – Serge Gainsbourg
22. Scène de bal 1 – Michel Colombier
23. Scène de bal 2 – Michel Colombier
24. Chanson du forçat – Serge Gainsbourg
25. Le mariage de vidocq – Michel Colombier
26. Chanson du forcat II – Serge Gainsbourg
27. A vous de jouer, monsieur vidocq – Michel Colombier
28. Woom woom woom – Michel Colombier
29. Caressante – Michel Colombier
30. Wouaou ! – Michel ColombierCD2
1. Sous le soleil exactement – Anna Karina
2. Jerks en cavalerie – Michel Colombier
3. C’est la cristallisation comme dit stendhal – Serge Gainsbourg
4. Photographes et religieuses – Michel Colombier
5. Boomerang – Jean Claude Brialy
6. Je n’avais qu’un seul mot a lui dire – Jean Claude Brialy
7. Anna – Michel Colombier
8. Le jardinier d’argenteuil – Michel Colombier
9. Les voyages du père la tulipe – Michel Colombier
10. French riviera – Michel Colombier
11. Dénouement et final – Michel Colombier
12. Breakdown suite – Michel Colombier
13. L’une et l’autre – Michel Colombier
14. Elisa – Serge Gainsbourg
15. L’horizon – Michel Colombier
16. Elisa – Serge Gainsbourg
17. Manon – Serge Gainsbourg
18. New délire again – Michel Colombier
19. New délire – Michel Colombier
20. Auto-stop – Michel Colombier
21. No no yes yes – Michel Colombier
22. Oh beautiful america/mister freedom march – Michel Colombier
23. Freedom rock/mister freedom – Michel Colombier
24. L’herbe tendre – Serge Gainsbourg
25. Ce sacré grand-père générique – Michel Colombier
26. Champêtre et pop – Michel Colombier
27. L’herbe tendre – Michel Colombier
28. L’adieu generique fin – Michel ColombierCD3
1. Requiem pour un con… – Serge Gainsbourg
2. Psychasténie – Michel Colombier
3. Un noël – Michel Colombier
4. Joss a la calavados – Michel Colombier
5. Batucada meurtrière – Michel Colombier
6. Cadavres en série – Michel Colombier
7. La chanson de slogan – Serge Gainsbourg
8. Evelyne – Jean-Claude Vannier
9. Paris-bombay – Jean-Claude Vannier
10. Les chemins de katmandou (générique) – Jean-Claude Vannier
11. Jane et olivier – Jean-Claude Vannier
12. Transe party des haschichiens – Jean-Claude Vannier
13. Carte postale du népal – Jean-Claude Vannier
14. La horse – Jean-Claude Vannier
15. L’alouette – Jean-Claude Vannier
16. Western – Jean-Claude Vannier
17. Cannabis – Serge Gainsbourg
18. Avant de mourir – Jean-Claude Vannier
19. Danger – Jean-Claude Vannier
20. Dernière blessure – Jean-Claude Vannier
21. Cannabis – Jean-Claude Vannier
22. Sex shop – Serge Gainsbourg
23. Fontaine des innocents – Jean-Claude Vannier
24. Sex radio suite – Jean-Claude Vannier
25. Moogy-woogy – Jean-Claude Vannier
26. Close combat – Jean-Claude Vannier
27. Un petit garçon nommé charlie brown – Serge GainsbourgCD4
1. L’amour en privé – Françoise Hardy
2. Projection privée – Jean-Claude Vannier
3. L’amour en privé – Jean-Claude Vannier
4. Ballade de johnny-jane – Serge Gainsbourg
5. Je t’aime moi non plus – Jean-Pierre Sabar
6. Banjo au bord du styx – Jean-Pierre Sabar
7. Zanzibar – Jean-Pierre Sabar
8. Le choc est terrible – Jean-Pierre Sabar
9. Yesterday yes a day – Jane Birkin
10. First class ticket/yesterday on fender – Jean-Pierre Sabar
11. Mi corasong – Serge Gainsbourg
12. Passage a tabacco – Serge Gainsbourg
13. Chanson du chevalier blanc – Gérard Lanvin
14. Emmanuelle and the sea – Jean-Pierre Sabar
15. Goodbye emmanuelle – Serge Gainsbourg
16. Emmanuelle and the sea – Jean-Pierre Sabar
17. Sea sex and sun – Serge Gainsbourg
18. Melancoly suite – Jean-Pierre Sabar
19. Tapage nocturne – Bijou
20. Dieu fumeur de havanes – Jean-Pierre Sabar
21. La fautive – Serge Gainsbourg
22. La fautive – Don Ray
23. Je pense queue – Serge Gainsbourg
24. Dieu fumeur de havanes – Catherine DeneuveCD5
1. Equateur (générique) – Serge Gainsbourg
2. Un cargo vers l’afrique – Serge Gainsbourg
3. Le physique et le figuré – Jean-Pierre Sabar
4. Dorothée (fuir le bonheur de peur qu’il ne se sauve) – Serge Gainsbourg
5. Accéléré historique – Serge Gainsbourg
6. En souvenir de fred a. – Serge Gainsbourg
7. Travelling – Jean-Pierre Sabar
8. Entrave – Jean-Pierre Sabar
9. Trave – Jean-Pierre Sabar
10. Travaux – Jean-Pierre Sabar
11. Charlotte for ever – Serge Gainsbourg
12. Stan/elodie – Serge Gainsbourg
13. La valse de l’au revoir – Juliette Gréco
14. Strip tease – Nico
15. La fille qui fait tchictitchic – Michèle Mercier
16. La noyée – Anna Karina
17. Hier ou demain – Anna Karina
18. Ballade de johnny jane – Jane Birkin
19. Goodbye emmanuelle – Serge Gainsbourg
20. Les chemins de katmandou – Fred Pallem
21. La horse – Marathon Men’S
22. Requiem pour un con – Serge GainsbourgOriginal source for the above information:http://www.factmag.com/2015/03/30/serge-gainsbourg-jean-claude-vannier-chemins-de-katmandou-score/

The Sunday Series: Sunday March 29, 2015

Sunday March 29, 2015

I loathe Sundays.  The day of rest is a day of thinking about resting.  Sunday is like being slowly buried alive.  Just as my face is being covered, Monday comes along, and you're dealing with the thought of once again, facing another Sunday.  To this very day, I'm still confused if Sunday is the first day of the week, or the last.  The vagueness of it, drives me insane.  I can never understand the mania about Sundays.  All I know is that by chance if I feel restless, it seems to be always on a Sunday.  Fucking Sunday.



The other thing that bothers me is that I travel throughout Los Angeles on the bus, and the bus schedules on Sundays are slow or non-existent.  Many times I find myself in a part of town, and not being able to get out of that area, due to the limited bus services on Sunday.  Once on the bus, no problem, but waiting for a bus that may or may not show up, is torture.  Also, there are few shade trees on streets or especially at a bus stop.  Direct sunlight which causes skin cancer is also part of the equation of life on a Sunday.

Sunday is also the one day of the week, where I think about the other six days of that week. For me, it's the period at the end of the sentence.  Rarely does the week work out OK for me.  So my depression kicks in on a Sunday, realizing that I was pretty much of a failure throughout that week.  When the thick Sunday paper hits my door every Sunday morning, the depression is so thick, I feel like I can't swallow.   The paper rarely has news of that day, but mostly looking back on the week - which is like looking at my weekly journal, which is mostly blank.   Which to be honest is a perfect self-portrait.



I've read that German and Swedish researchers have determined that Sunday is the most depressing day of the week for a lot of people.  It was suggested on one website to write a letter to yourself on a Sunday night, and the second part of the letter, imagine yourself doing something exciting.  Moronic advice which even makes me more depressed.

"The Sunday Night Blues" is the terminology for those who can't face the rest of the week, and realize that Sunday is just a reminder of things to come.  Which is partly true for me, but what I loathe the most about that specific day is that it's set up as a day of relaxation or meditative thoughts.  Those who control the calendar also control the world.  I'm even upset that there is a 24-hour day.  The restriction of days, months and even years I find to be restrictive and totally depressing with respect to the creative spirit.    If I was free of Sundays, I feel I could take each day as it is, and not what I imagined it would be.



I can't imagine anything worse than the Sunday Brunch.   The combination of breakfast and lunch.  More likely an excuse for those who can't get up early for breakfast, which leads to a sense of guilt of missing that meal and having lunch instead.  A world that is not causal made up this late morning/early afternoon meal - and it is usually a social outing, where one has to deal with the like-minded crowd.  It's a disgusting practice.   British author Guy Beringer coined the phrase "brunch" in an article printed in "Hunter's Weekly" in 1895.   Brunch was proposed by him as a stance against the meal after one goes to church.  It should be lighter in mood.  Beringer's theory is that the brunch will "put you in a good temper, it makes you satisfied with yourself and your fellow beings, it sweeps away the worries and cobwebs of the week."  For me, it is totally the opposite.  I can't stand eating with a group of people who honor the work week by having a meal together on a Sunday.

Also the Sunday brunch was a good excuse for those who are burned-out, due to their work week, to start drinking alcohol in the late morning.  Bloody Marys, Bellinis and Mimosas are the popular drinks tied to the image of Brunch on a Sunday.  In the United States, brunch became part of the social life in the 1930s.   The hotel restaurant also jumped in because a lot of restaurants were closed on Sunday - so there was a service that needed to be offered.  Traditionally it is agreed upon that brunch takes place between 11:00 AM and 3:00 PM. Oddly enough, this is the time-frame where I do most of my writing.



For years, I have refused to have "brunch" due that it cuts into my private time with pen and paper.   The fact that most have to have a social life while working, and then on the weekend they are expected to once again, have a "social life" is a life of misery.   One needs not only to eliminate the 'brunch' but also the concept of a day of imprisonment - known as Sunday.

The Culture Trip on Tosh Berman

http://theculturetrip.com/north-america/usa/articles/tosh-berman-and-the-madness-of-literature/
A very nice write-up regarding my "2014" series as well as "June 1, 2014" chapbook that was recently released.   The link above will lead you to the article.  Merci "The Culture Trip.com."

The Sunday Series: Sunday March 22, 2015

Sunday No. 11
Sunday March 22, 2015
In my many moments of pure crisis, I often find myself at the Santa Monica Pier - not only for the view of the Pacific Ocean, but more importantly, Zoltar the Fortune Teller.   I tend to make the wrong choice at the worst times in my life, so I choose to let fate take a hold of me, by giving my role of chance to Zoltar.   Like others in my troubles, I tend to look at a higher power to lead me out of the darkness into the lightness.  For whatever reasons, I have always been attracted to the Santa Monica Pier, not due to its tourist attractions, but the darkness that seems to lurk in the shadows between the arcade games.   It is one thing to be here in bright daylight with others, but to be surrounded by the machines themselves in the dead of the night, is almost a spiritual re-awakening.  I have to admit I felt fear when I'm here alone in the arcade, but also feel that I'm only a foot away from my existence, and therefore feel more alive than anywhere else or time. 
The Santa Monica Pier opened in 1909, which was a very much different world then.  The extension from land or beach to the sea, must have been a sign of significant meeting - in that one is honoring the horizon that the ocean represents.    For me, when I look out at the edge of the pier to the vast amount of water, I think there is no turning back once one makes that journey beyond the shore.  So, instead of going forward to the horizon, I turn my back to the ocean, and head towards Zoltar. 


This particular vending machine only cost a quarter, and lucky they had a change machine near-by.  I put my quarter in, and received a fortune from Zoltar saying: "You are a strong believer in fate."   At that moment, that belief was extremely strong.  I looked into Zoltar's eyes to see if I can receive a recognition of some sort.  Oddly enough, I couldn't get a fix on his eyes.  It seemed that he was looking away from me, perhaps as far away as my past.  "You feel you have no control over your destiny."   No shit Zoltar!  I often wander around the pier after midnight, hoping to see a sign saying 'don't jump into the ocean."   


Instead I look at my fortune card that came from the vending machine, and it tells me that my lucky numbers are 10, 12, 13, 2, 1.   Since today is the 22nd, and I didn't see 22 as among my lucky numbers, I felt I was on very dangerous ground.  All I could hear was the hum of the Zoltar machine, and the waves hitting the pier.  For whatever reason, I thought of a piece of music by Edgar Varése "Arcana."  The original arrangement consists of an orchestra with 120 musicians, and yet, here I can just hear Zoltar and the ocean.  Both have an organic quality, and I always thought of Varése as a composer tied closely with rural and urban sounds.   And here I'm, standing by the fortune vending machine, and only feet away from the majestic ocean, which is calling out to me.

As I was very much alone, I felt more romantic.  It started to rain, and I had no desire to hide myself from the tears.  Alas, I read the last part of my fortune, which reads "fate will be kind to you and you can expect your life to run on a smoother pattern."  I looked back at the ocean, and immediately realized that my destiny lies not there, but with Zoltar.   I made a promise right there, that I would never leave the pier, nor will peer pressure will ever make me jump into the ocean.  My thoughts, my life, are an island of contentment.