This morning, after months, perhaps even a year, construction was finished under the street outside my apartment and over it was laid a fresh layer of tar. This week, I assume, the barrels will be taken away and that will be that.

There is, however, a small hole that has yet to get covered, on the corner where the street meets an alley, and in that hole a collection of randomness has been trapped. Some pages from some newspapers, empty coffee cups, deli bags and so forth. Most of it is trash--okay all of it. But for some reason I decided to toss a copy of Kurt Vonnegut's Slapstick in that hole.

Well, for one, I've read that he thinks it's the worst book he's written, so I'm doing my part in burying it. And secondly, I figured that after the country undergoes a couple of plagues, civil war erupts, Manhattan crumbles, and whatever is under my street is once again dug up and banged on, people might want something to read. You never know.


"History is merely a list of surprises," I said. "It can only prepare us to be surprised yet again. Please write that down."

-- Kurt Vonnegut, Slapstick, page 226   

Please write that down... Please bury that under Gold St... Same thing.



Tom, October 2, 2005, 10:19 PM         (link here)