For those who, during these sad times, miss the man all Arkies of a particular age call "Dad", I offer this photo taken in our apartment's living room.
Nevermind how I acquired it; sufficient to say that it was years ago and in a drunken blur.
Without fail, it gets a laugh from visitors.
Richard Brautigan wrote of a future world in which we'd be "all watched over by machines of loving grace". My apartment is watched over by a sign of graceless, homely sheetmetal. But it brings back a nostalgic feeling; and day by day Dad's era looks better and better by comparison, even for someone like me who was frequently enraged by his stupid triangulations and his Kevin Drum-esque version of liberalism.
So far, I'm pleased to report, the couch across from it and the tiles below it remain free of any crusty residue; it seems to be free of Clintonoid poltergeists. Knock on wood.
posted by RETARDO MONTALBAN @ 12:56 AM
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