A recording from 18 March 2017 about Patrick’s work permits in Spain.
In response to a YouTube video called Rules for Rulers, Patrick responded on 16 Nov ‘ 16:
Pretty good video. But democracy has one big problem.
If you can keep people dumb with entertainment, and make them think what you want, you control everything without giving true rewards in proportion to the value of the normal person – if they can’t think, they won’t get what they want or need, but will blame it on somebody else.
It’s like dictating what you have to think.
Oh well, I don’t know why the mob prefers football to understanding life a little bit.
A short piece by Patrick dated 9 Aug 2016, though the file would only show the date of the last edit. The file name said “coffin parade” but the title in the file is “Public Lament.”
We were sitting in the bar having a cafè con leche. It was mid-morning. The local workmen had hours before already taken their first coffee laced with cognac, and would soon Continue reading “Public Lament (Coffin Parade)”
Here’s a sweet picture that Ivonne sent recently, the two of them relaxing in Valldemossa.
By the way, we are trying to sell the black/white drawing in the background, the one above Ivonne’s left shoulder.
Here’s a link to an interesting article from the Deia Olive Press from 17 June 2016 in which Patrick talks about his move to Spain and specifically Deia, and more autobiographical information.
Found in my e-mail, this was part of a collection of things Patrick sent me called “You Never Know.” This segment is dated 19 April 2006.
My first impulse when Stephanie died was to dump everything – after 29 years together, the accumulated baggage was overwhelming. Not only physical objects – the house was full of papers, clothing, furniture – but memories, in the form of thousands of photos and such simple things as the arrangement of towels on the rack.
One month after she was buried, after showering I still lowered the head of the shower to the height she preferred. Continue reading “With Whatever Love for Life that Is Left to Me, I Will Seek …”
Walking the the village every day, swimming through the tsunami of tourists, I often see local residents floating among the foreigners. I don’t know their names, though we occasionally might nod to each other as we make eye contact.
There is the one I call Continue reading “Swimming Through the Tsunami of Tourists”
Patrick and Lee traveled to Oregon after high school. Here’s a story fragment about the experience. He references the Seventh Day Adventist religious group, but he’s actually describing the Jehovah’s Witnesses, a different Christian sect. The fragment is from a collection called You Never Know that Patrick sent me on 11 Aug ’15.
South of Eureka, a van distributing bakery goods picked us up.
“Where you headed?”
“You’re in luck. Hop in.”
The driver turned out to be a map freak, and when we told him where we had come from, he knew the names of the highways and Continue reading “Heading to Coos Bay, Oregon”
For more years than I ever thought to count, the same dream came to me. I am no more sure when first I dreamt the dream than I can ascertain when the dream ceased. I know it was still coming to me after I met Stephanie, often enough that I mentioned it to her more than once.
I had the feeling from the first dreaming that I knew that house back Continue reading “The Same Dream Came to Me”
Here I am doing it again, jumping to the past.
In 1956 Lois was with her clique and claque in the Coffee Shoppe of the music department every day. Me too, with John Patrick on my lap. Continue reading “Doing It Again, Jumping to the Past”