"There is a loneliness in this world so great . . .
. . . that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of a clock."
Charles Bukowski, Love is a Dog from Hell
Damjan shared his admiration for Bukowski with us earlier this year. It should come as no surprise that he strikes a chord with myself as well. I've never read any of his works, but was mightily impressed by the film Barfly
, and know of him, if only tangentially.
What may come of surprise is the coincidental overlap between his domiciles in Los Angeles and where I lived for a time, and where my uncle still resides. Click on the link below . . .
. . . for a map of his known whereabouts on the east side of LA. Rentals #14 and #12 are less than half a mile from my family's home on Edgemont, and #32 is just under a mile as the crow flies. The cluster that contains #15, #17, #19, and #20 is just over a mile, and the cluster between #5 and #11 is under two. For all the time I've spent in that neighborhood, it's entirely possible that I rubbed shoulders with him at some point in the past. Perhaps at Jay's Jayburger on the corner of Santa Monica and Virgil, or Cordon's Market on Hollywood, both now shuttered. It wasn't at the Smogcutter, a watering hole on Virgil; I've never been there, and for good reason - it's the dankest of dive bars imaginable, or so the legend goes.
Well, I'm about to take a trip back in time to a bar that Bukowski patronized, and in the dreariest possible location, too -
Skid Row, Downtown Los Angeles. That report will be posted on Saturday. In the meantime, let's share images of our watches in an unaccustomed way: with haunting backgrounds, smoky, gritty, and bleak. Think of whiskey and cigarettes, concrete and weeds.
This will be the thread less traveled, methinks.
This message has been edited by Dr No on 2013-07-21 12:09:57