Saturday, March 24, 2007

Hear Jack

5 comments:

Jacq said...

I melt with his words, his voice and his eyes...Ohhh la la! I know, he's your hero.

CatsDigMe said...

That's where I got my voice. Guess the eyes came from somewhere else.

Anonymous said...

jack, jack, jack, what happened to you? whence did the beats become hoods to you? why, why, why?

why the retreat to mama's porch with a cat and too many bottles of port?

what became of that freight train racing to San Fran in the middle of the night with a genius tramp who's head was a bright light?

CatsDigMe said...

In some sense I think the whole beat thing, the writing, the adventuring, was a mask. Only partially, as a distraction from an unsatisfactory early life. When Neal was gone and the adventure was over, despair set in. Or maybe I am projecting from my personal experiece. Hmm...the Sterling thing was actually quite similar, come to think of it.

Anonymous said...

I guess you are speaking for Jack, because Allen would bet to differ. Jack was lost. He couldn't find his answer in football or the merchant marines, but he found something while reading Thomas Wolfe. So he wander in wrote thinking himself a writer. Then came On The Road and instant fame. He wasn't ready and he spiralled.

maybe he was something like Kurt Cobain, I dunno.