Years ago, I read an article where Iggy Pop talked about how he moved to Miami because unlike the East Village, it was a place where you still felt like seedy things were going on. That article is not why I moved here, but it sure helped. Getting to bump into Mr. Osterberg around town is certainly one of the pleasures of living here. The more I get to know him, the more I like and admire him — I’m afraid I can’t say that about every rock star I meet. My recent, second interview with him ran in the Herald Sunday; check it out: http://www.miamiherald.com/548/story/29226.html
Does anyone else suffer from the above-named affliction? After a week of readings, afterparties, morning-after parties, and hangs, I feel down.
It was ironic that my Providence reading was sponsored by Brown University’s Sarah Doyle Women’s Center since in Mamarama, I talk about how I never went there. Somewhat cheekily, I read those parts of the book at my campus visit, about my alienation from feminism, as well as the parts where feminism and I connect again. I don’t know if it’s that I’ve changed or campus feminism has changed, but I loved the women I met at Brown last week. I felt like if I went there now, I’d live at Sarah Doyle.
Got back from my mini-tour of the Northeast late last night. I feel like I was gone a year; psychically, I was. Going back to the sites of my past — Providence, New York — to read a book that’s half about memories: An emotional odyssey indeed.
That WNYC gig was definitely a trip highlight. Mostly, it was all about seeing old friends, including my oldest — childhood friend Jon Gold and his new wife — and people I haven’t had physical or even aural contact with in more than a decade: zine buddy Dave in Providence, sister Riot Grrrl Silver in New York. Lots of hangs, catching up. One thing Mamarama has done for me: Helped make my life of sometimes relocation and dislocation whole again.