“Dead Man Still Plans To Tell Tale ”

Plimpton’s “Paper Corpse” Pub Date Pushed Back Again


“If anybody can come back and tell us what it’s like being dead, it’s George.” -- Kurt Vonnegut at George Plimpton’s memorial 2004

New York, New York (November 20, 2010) -- Eternity Publishing Corp. said it has postponed the publication date of its long expected “Paper Corpse” volume from George Plimpton in which the writer will report on being dead.

The company said Plimpton indicated he will not be able to deliver the manuscript until the second quarter of 201l. He cited poor accommodations and technical difficulties in this, his second postponement of the manuscript’s due date, originally set for Jan. 1, 2010. The company released the following statement from Plimpton.

“You know, when I was writing my book “Paper Lion,” I used to stick a notebook in my football helmet. Or when I was playing with the New York Philharmonic, I’d jot things down on index cards and stash them in the cymbals case, but down here I can’t seem to find where I put my notes.

That’s why I’m having so much trouble actually writing this piece and getting out of here.

It’s no surprise that this is turning out to be a difficult assignment, Jesus himself only lasted three days down here. Hate to think how he would have done playing goalie for the Blackhawks.

I’ve done the reporting, I’m ready to write this puppy up, I’m certainly not waiting for Lorin Stein or Dan Menacker or someone to say, “Come forth, Plimpton” as Jesus is alleged to have said to his buddy Lazarus, another hack that couldn’t nail this story. I don’t know what the hold up is, exactly, though.

If you look at my reporting on pro football, it is as much about hanging out with the players as it is my brief stints playing their game. But down here, there’s no game and these are some of the dullest characters I’ve ever had to try to animate.

Usually I wish I could stay out longer on these assignments, socializing with the guys on the team or from the orchestra pit and really trying to share their world, but I’m really looking forward to is this being dead story ending.

I’ve never had such an excruciatingly dull assignment. Digging for quotes here is like pulling teeth. Or like pulling teeth up there. Usually, I can’t get a word out of anybody. If I get them to say something, it comes out all garbled. So I write it down as best I can make it out, then I can’t find my notes.

I’m beginning to wonder if I’m ever going to finish this story. I mean, I’m George Plimpton and if there is one thing I’m not an amateur at it’s writing up these “amateur in the midst of professionals” stories for Sports Illustrated or for this outing, Harper’s and Eternity.

What I do with these “participatory journalism” gigs is I do the reporting until I’ve soaked up so much material that I’m sick of the whole topic. That’s how I know its time to stop taking notes and start writing.

I’m not really picking up any new material, but I don’t seem to be able to start writing. There’s the problem with finding the notes, sure, but by now I should at least be able to get started.

I’ve found in the past that the best way to write the story is while you’re still on the scene, while the smell of the lineament from the locker room is still in your nose, but this time I can’t seem to get started and not for the lack of a stench down here, either.

Well, George Plimpton doesn’t panic. I’ll bang the thing out and when I do it will be nice to get back into the swing of things in town.

The only thing I can compare this story with is the time I was the quarterback for the Detroit Lions and I got buried under a blitz. I was only out for about five minutes that time and for this story I’ve been gone much longer. Harpers is going to have a cow when I submit my per diem, never mind the book deal. This death assignment has been worse than when I was initiated into the secret fraternity at Phillips.

Not only are we all bunched up down here, I can tell you there are a lot of people who aren’t our sort. There’s no tennis courts either. I always found carrying the racquets around to be a pain, but down here you can’t find a game even if you’ve got one of those new pod-like bags with seventeen racquets in it.

The only preparation that has been of any use at all was the time Willie Morris dragged me to see that Spanish movie and, what was the director’s name, Bunel, anyway, the last scene in the movie has a version of this afterlife thing with the hero stuck in a nightclub with pop music blaring and it is kind like that here. I keep complaining, but whomever the disc jockey is, he seems never to have heard of Sinatra or even the Beatles. Instead all you hear is this electro synth music, whatever that is, have you ever heard of LCD Soundsystem? We’ve all packed together and it’s worse than the IRT at rush hour with everyone jammed up against each other and this horrible, throbbing music. Some of these people have never been to Cape Cod.

I don’t know how the regulars down here deal with it. I’ve been to some boring cocktail parties. I mean, I love Norman, but to be pigeonholed by that pugnacious pipsqueak with an empty drink in my hand, that used to seem like an eternity, but it’s nothing compared to how time passes down here.

Yes, I see a few people we know, mostly people that were older than our circle. Howard Cosell is down here, still trying to grab sports stars to interview, but there’s no crew with him and no network to broadcast the results so he’s an even sadder figure dead than alive. Arthur Ashe, now there’s the right last name for this place, is still shaking him off.

That’s one thing about being down here, and I’m going to touch on this in my piece, this place, this state of affairs, seems to be easier on the nobodies. If you’ve never had any fame or power, this eternal waiting around is just like an afternoon when you have to get your driver’s license renewed. I’ve always had somebody to do that for me, fortunately.
For people in our crowd, people who had positions or at least a comfortable Park Avenue lifestyle, got out to the Hamptons in the summer, went to the right schools, this place is a comedown. Believe me, when I turn in the story, I’m going to advise people to avoid dying for as long as they can, unless they don’t have much to lose, if they’re poor or wouldn’t know the Loeb Classics from the Post.

What I wouldn’t give to be able to get on my bike and go for a spin. I wonder is it still hanging above Fiona’s desk?

You know, I didn’t get to where I am by being easily discouraged, but it’s hard even for me to be upbeat down here. Everybody mopes around, a lot of the people really aren’t looking too well. Trying to scare up a foursome for bridge is really a challenge.

If I can just break through this whatever it is, I’m going to try to really nail this story so my version of this death thing will be the one that people refer to. I don’t see any editor assigning this kind of piece for a long time because I plan on my take on death becoming the definitive one. God knows, besides spending this time here I’ve done my research. That Mary Roach book is good as is that long fingernails book, but neither of them have the first person component that my story will feature.

I hope I haven’t been gone so long that people have stopped reading this kind of piece, or reading at all.

People up there are so hysterical about things. Let me tell you, if there’s one thing beyond the nuts and bolts, day in and day out, description of life down here that my story is going to cover, what I’m going to take away from this assignment and I hope it lasts well past when I get back to the city and some bastard steals a cab I’m trying to hail or something, is that it pays to take the long view. You might as well enjoy your time up there even if it sometimes seems to consist of nothing more exciting than an endless schedule of speaking engagements.

Oh, about that other thing Lorin asked me to do while I was down here, none of the writers I’ve come across want to sit for one of our interviews. I saw Saul Bellow and he said, “now you ask me? Didn’t have time all those years we were both alive?” He was so unpleasant that I didn’t bother to correct him, to explain I’m only down here on assignment.”

Bunga Bunga Post Accepted by Shirtless Congress Stud Muffin Christopher Lee

“Karima El Mahroug, a dancer known as “Ruby” and who is alleged to have joined erotic “bunga bunga” parties last year aged 17, denies having sex with the prime minister.” Financial Times, Feb. 16

Buffalo, New York (February 18, 2011) -- Former Shirtless Congressman Christopher Lee said today he has accepted a position in the administration of Italian prime minister Sergio Berlusconi to serve in his cabinet as Commissioner of Bunga Bunga.

“I’m not sure where Bunga Bunga is, but I have made arrangements to spend every other weekend either with my family or at the b and b downtown (don’t forget there are a lot of tourist attractions in Buffalo even in the winter) as Michele is still a little steamed.”

“I have received many expressions of support from my constituents during this difficult time for myself and my family. I know what I did was wrong. I should have just paid for it like former Gov. Spitzer. At least he sealed the deal. Part of my arrangement with Silvio will involve counseling to get me past my feelings that there is something “unmanly” about paying for it.”

“Part of my efforts for Bunga Bunga will be to work hard to ensure gender equality and fair treatment in the workplace for Italian women, many of whom I’ve read on the Internet have truly spectacular racks.”

I’d like to thank Silvio for this opportunity to continue to serve my former constituents in western New York whose ties to the people and culture of Italy run deep as well as to serve my new constituents in Bunga Bunga.

I accepted Silvio’s offer secure in the knowledge that his political philosophy and my own are totally in synch. He is center-right and I am a conservative Republican. I believe there are things I can introduce to the Italian political system such as increased gun ownership that will benefit the country as a whole as well as my province or whatever it is of Bunga Bunga.

On social issues, particularly dating, Sergio and I are making progress toward reaching a consensus. He has agreed as part of my compensation package to include a gym membership so I don’t get any love handles from eating too much spaghetti carbonaera. I haven’t been able to convince him yet that our bods make the slightest bit of a difference. He keeps telling me that it’s womens’ bodies that count, not ours, especially for those of us fortunate enough to be able to use our powerful, public positions to attract really hot chicks.”

Statement From Italian Prime Minister Sergio Berlusconi on the Appointment of U.S. Shirtless Congress Stud Muffin Christopher Lee to Bunga Bunga Post

Rome, Italy (February 17, 2011) -- I have followed my latest appointee’s case with interest and I must say that what happened to Congressman Lee would never have happened in my administration.

I have bought so many women during my years in office that sometimes, as with Ruby, I don’t even touch them just to confuse my enemies. You can tell I really am a victim of our leftist judges because my off the cuff comment that the poor Ruby might be the niece of Egyptian President Mubarak, instead of being appreciated for the witty improvisation it was, is being condemned. The poor child was in jail, am I, the Prime Minister of the Republic supposed to do nothing? Anyway, she is from North Africa so how far off was I, really?

Women are all whores anyway so why beat around the bush, scusi, this has been the policy of my administration.

It’s their bodies that matter, not ours. The downfall of this gifted, young congressman is a sad indictment of the unofficial enshrinement of feminism in America. Here in Italy, a man does not spend time in the gym to compete with women for physical beauty. We Italian men simply amass money and power and we pay for it. Duh. That’s nothing to be hung up about. All women are whores except for our mothers and our sisters and I’m only really sure about momma.

Just as I was criticized for making up a little white lie to get Ruby sprung, I’ll probably get grief for giving Christopher a job. But, really, what is the point of being a world leader if you can’t right wrongs?

Poor Christopher. He shaved seven years off his age to attract this Internet woman. I’m 74, should I have to say I’m 67 to attract women? What a joke your American political system is.

It is a shame that this man, your congressman, has to forfeit his entire career over this one episode. Do you think any of the dental assistants, show girls and porn stars I have favored with my patronage, would ever embarrass me by sending something to Gawker? You know why; payment brings loyalty.

A congressman is an important man in America, no. Here at home, I buy them for not so many Euros, but still, a man with a respectable government position shouldn’t have to look for sex on the Internet. I understand that people sometimes lie on these Internet sex ads. If you are a rich and a powerful man, even a mere congressman, why would you sink to looking for women there?

And some of these women lie. Why put all this effort into the chase when you, the man, could be the victim of false advertising? I tell you it isn’t so hard to assess the goods when you see pictures, videos or have them leaning over you in the dentist’s chair, capice?

Sheer-A-Sortium Inc.

*

"our genius is transparent"




Brent Shearer
Principal
Sheer-A-Sortium Inc.
90 Hudson St.
New York, New York 10013

6 October 2011

Dear Harry Shearer,

I have reached out as you suggested to the writer and NPR personality Ira Sher for inclusion as a charter member (Principal) in the company we are founding, Sheer-A-Sortium Plc.

I like the company motto you came up with "Our genius is transparent,” though as you noted to make it work we will have to treat Sher as if it is Shear, but I don’t think this is a problem. As for the logo, as you suggested, I have outsourced the design to an art director here in New York.

As we discussed, Sheer-A-Sortium will increase the clout and bargaining power of the founding members, yourself, me and Ira by uniting us three writer-performers under the Sheer-A-Sortium brand.

I totally agree with your point that the pooling of our artistic efforts will be a seminal moment in the history of literary guys who also work in radio, TV and film. You are right, I think, to suggest it will be like when Chaplin, D.W. Griffith and Douglass Fairbanks combined to create United Artists in 1919. That company has had a good run and I don't see why Sheer-A-Sortium won't flourish as well. I think people will pick up that the Sortium refers to consortium without having to spell it out in the marketing materials.

I doubt you need worry that our new partner to be will be touchy, as you put it, about the way that if you say the name of the company, Sheer-A-Sortium, it sounds like you are saying Shearer-Sortium. I think Ira is secure enough to deal with this.

Furthermore, I don’t have a problem with excluding any writer-performers who names start with “Sch.” Let’s see what Ira has to say about this once he comes on-board.

As the least known member of the new company, it is only fair that I should attend to the administrative details of setting it up. I have had a few things published, and more importantly for the brand identity of Sheer-A-Sortium, I did an hour-long appearance on Washington Heights radio earlier this year.

Sure, it's just one of these Web-only radio stations run out of somebody's apartment, but on the plus side I did see a new part of the neighborhood that in my previous drug buying forays, many years ago, I missed.

When Ira signs up, we can plan the road show to sell shares. I think Morgan Stanley is as good as any other bank to be the underwriter.

Until then, keep on trucking, albeit in a digital way, my Sheer-A-Sortium bro. Love that script you sent me, by the way, "Boomer 2.0: How to Keep On Trucking in A Facebook Age." Even as a Harry Shearer project I’m sure it would do well, but with the marketing clout of our new collective behind it, the sky’s the limit.

I agree that it is is important that the Sheer-A-Sortium brand come to represent the best of writer-performers. Certainly with Spinal Tap and the rest of your work, you have set the bar high for all of our artistic endeavors here at S-A-S.

It is my pleasure to be associated with the launch of this brilliant project. Although it was my idea originally, I’m gratified at how quickly an artist of your stature saw the promise and joined.

Sincerely,


Brent Shearer
Principal
Sheer-A-Sortium






Sheer-A-Sortium Inc.

*

"our methods are transparent"




Brent Shearer
Principal
Sheer-A-Sortium Inc.
90 Hudson St.
New York, New York 10013


Dear Ira Sher,

Harry Shearer and I would like to invite you to participate in our pooling of forces so that each of our bylines will gain more clout because of the Sheer-a-Sortium brand that will now accompany any publication or broadcast that any of us are involved in.

We picture the pooling of our artistic careers as a seminal moment in the history of literary guys who also work in radio, TV and film. It will rival United Artists for cultural impact and should provide decades of revenue for ourselves and our descendants.




Harry and I have discussed the wisdom of inviting other writer-performers whose last names start with something other than Sher or Shear into the group, but who might be able to show a secondary last name affinity, and, thus, have some basis for claiming eligibility for membership

He is adamantly against letting in the many Sch names with by-lines that will no doubt be clamoring for admission once we go public and list the stock. He says that any Sch members will mess up the joke of the first word of the company name. He points out that there is no such word as Scheer, although they're are probably plenty of writer-performers out there with that last name.

Of course, Harry and I are eager to get your thoughts on this subject. Perhaps we could issue some kind of second class, non voting stock for Sch members if we did decide to let them in.

Harry and I are confident that you will see the advantages of the creative synergies that joining Sheer-a-Sortium will provide. If there is a gig to be farmed out, we will think first of our two, assuming you sign on, Sheer-A-Sortium principals before using any non-Sheer-a-Sortium labor. Of course, despite the fact that we are three, multi talented individuals, there will be some jobs that we founding members of the company will not be able to accomplish in-house.

Harry was bummed to learn that I was tone-deaf and therefore would of no use, besides writing lyrics, for some of the musical projects he is working on. It is possible that there are some limits to the areas of Sheer-A-Sortium endeavor that you can contribute to. Harry says I shouldn't just assume that everyone with a Shearer or a Sher by-line and a number of production credits can juggle and do a soft-shoe routine but I can, and I'm pretty sure you can too, Ira.


Sincerely,

Brent Shearer














Sheer-A-Sortium Inc.

*

"our genius is transparent"


Brent Shearer
Principal
Sheer-A-Sortium Inc.
90 Hudson St.
New York, New York 10013

6 October 2011


Re: Religious Quotas


Dear Harry and Ira,

I don't know if you've noticed but as the only gentile among the founding members of the Sheer-A-Sortium literary and performance guild, I have been forced to write and perform all the material that is either inspired by gentile life in American or that is aimed at a gentile audience. I think we need to reassess our routing procedure because I'm having to do too much work caring for this "majority" audience, while you guys are carrying much lighter loads of attending to our Jewish audiences, which while significant, don't represent more than a small proportion of our gigs in many sectors of our business such as college shows.




I reminded Harry, and should probably mention to you, Ira, that I recently left Larry Doyle Inc. because I was tired of having to do all the gentile Larry Doyle appearances. You might say that Larry Doyle is the actual gentile Larry Doyle, but as I pointed out in my letter to his agent Sarah Burne that led to my appointment as a staff member at Larry Doyle Inc., if you do comedy writing as well as he does, it graduates you into the firmament of Jewish comedy writers, which while it is a great honor, still left me with all the “live” college shows in the Bible Belt. I have a family and don’t want my experience with Sheer-A-Sortium to resemble the barmstorming and Motel 6 existence I was forced to live for long periods of time while under the employ of Larry Doyle Inc.

While I an grateful for the increased exposure my work has garnered as a result of my membership in the S-A-S, I’m sure both of you will support my bid for equal treatment at this early stage in the creation of this performer-writer thing of ours, the S-A-S.




Sincerely,


Brent Shearer
















Sheer-A-Sortium Inc.

*

"our methods are transparent"





Brent Shearer
Principal
Sheer-A-Sortium Inc.
90 Hudson St.
New York, New York 10013

6 October 2011


Dear Harry and Ira,

I was OK with going along with your guys' inclination,to not let any author-performer with Sch instead of Sh into the Sheer-A-Shortum even as an associate member as long as there was no particular gifted Sch-named author-performer who we were excluding.
But when it comes to the great French film director, Eric Rohmer, whose real name was Jean Martin Something Scherer, I have to object to your insistence on keeping our group only for us Sh-ers.
The Rohmer Foundation has applied to have Mr. Scherer included in our group as an associate member, actually I think we should create a posthumous principal position to give this great artist his rightful recognition, and I urge you two stick in the muds to let the auteur of "My Night at Maud's" and so many other cinematic masterpieces into this thing of ours, the Sheer-A-Sortium.
You know, Harry, if you think about it, if we're going to keep people out of the Sortium on the Sch issue, somebody's going to point out that Ira's last name has no "a" and we're going to have to deal with that.


Sincerely,

Brent Shearer

The Frappachino Next Time

"By one measure, the Starbucks frappachino bottles can serve as the "perfect containers" for a Molotov cocktail, said Kevin B. Barry, a retired NYPD Bomb Squad Technician. "It's small enough to be concealed in your pocket and it fits in your hand, so you can throw it almost like a Nerf football."
Generally speaking, any bottle will do, said Barney T. Villa, a retired bomb technician from the L.A. County Sheriff's Department."Nonetheless, he added: "You don't want a wide-mouth, Mickey beer. You want a small opening." NYT -- Jan. 4

The guys always ask me why I bust my hump to make a wide-mouth, easily throwable Molotov from a consumer bottle. I always say that as a member of the retired bomb technician community, it isn't enough to always have our phones on, yes, even on the golf course, so that we can field calls from reporters.

It is a bomb technician's duty to stay ahead of the curve of these fruitcakes' attacks. Eventually, one of these psychos, by choice or necessity, probably motivated by a desire to show off to their fellow nutcases, in general or maybe in their own cell, is going to come up with a way to use a wide-mouth bottle.

While I wouldn't necessarily agree with that reporter who described the Mickey beer bottle, with its 2.4 centimeter mouth, as the Holy Grail of these whack jobs' efforts, you have to admit that, sooner or later, just like with these nuclear proliferation experts who get the lion's share of the media's attention and go to all the cushy conferences, while, yeah, it's Orlando for us, again, there's going to be a nuclear strike someplace just like there's going to be a wide-mouth, consumer bottle Molotov.

You can't stop progress, but you can at least prepare your sound bite for when somebody does overcome the challenge, really of just making a thick enough fuse so the perp can throw it without it blowing up too soon or being even harder to throw than a Nerf football, the gold standard as far as these douchebags go, which isn't even that easy because to get some decent length, never mind a proper spiral, you have to squeeze the the foam football or the glass container, remember what thin-walled means, so tightly that its easy to squash the projectile before you heave it. And then, if you add the challenge of a thick wad of burning fuse, you can see why your average Omar hasn't figured it out. Some of these guys can't even light their shoes.

Look, its like fly fishing for some of them. If all you wanted to do was to catch fish, you could use a spinning reel. You wouldn't need to get these huge loops of line rocking around behind your head and getting caught in the trees. But, mark my words, as a retired bomb technician, there's going to be a wide-mouth bottle used in an attack. As an industry, we don't have the luxury that these candy-ass, Ivy League nuclear proliferation experts have of having a decent chance of being blown up ourselves, DC a target, never thought of that, and not having to come up with a coherent statement when the bad guys figure things out.

That's why I'm in my garage, night after night, trying to engineer it before they do. Anybody can write the statement. Understanding and even being able to reproduce the technology is what's going to get one of us retired bomb technicians on the podium next January in Orlando. I already got the joke I'm going to use to set up my Powerpoint. " I'm really more of a craft brew guy, but for a malt liquor Mickey's isn't bad."

– The Bathroom Monitor –

I am the Bathroom Monitor. When the Bathroom Monitor has sat at his post for either four hours or 75 flushes, whichever comes first, the Bathroom Monitor’s work day is done.

I am the Bathroom Monitor. Sarah, the bookstore’s owner, gave me this little computer that doesn’t work so well so I could look like I was just another writer, working in her bookstore. But that is just so her customers can feel relaxed. In that sense, I am an undercover Bathroom Monitor, but only until the fights break out. Then I spring into action. I run up to the upper level of the bookstore and get help. This is the main job of the Bathroom Monitor.

The funny thing about using the little computer is I have to balance it on my legs. To do this I have to bend my legs in a little. In this way, the Bathroom Monitor resembles the women who are waiting to use the bathroom since, piss-swollen, they too must turn their knees inward to keep the pressure of their enlarged bladders from pressing too much on their lower front parts.

The Bathroom Monitor gets off on the women standing around. I know they have to pee or worse. I like knowing what’s going on inside their bodies, inside their bladders, connected in some mysterious way to their lower front parts.

I am the Bathroom Monitor. I can’t play favorites even when the women say that if I could let them into the bathroom before the other people in the line, I could come with them.

I am the Bathroom Monitor. What would I do in the bathroom?

I am the Bathroom Monitor. The toilet I oversee sounds like a jet taking off when it is flushed. This is useful to the people waiting in line. It is like the plane they are flying on has moved one plane closer to take-off on the runway. Before Sarah installed the Flush-o-meter, it also made it easy for me to count the number of flushes.

There are hardly ever any fights, sometimes not even harsh words, on the weekdays. I must still be at my post during my appointed shift, but there are very few fights on weekdays. But fights do break out on the weekends.

I think it is because of the Jerseys. That’s what we call them. They only come in on weekends. They are often in a bad mood because they are worried about their parking spaces and the inevitable traffic jam at the Holland Tunnel on their way home.

When the Jerseys swell up with piss, I guess they aren’t used to having to wait in line. But they do have to wait in line here at Sarah’s bookstore. And on the weekends, it’s usually a long line. If the Jerseys start fighting about whose turn it is, I know what to do.

I am the Bathroom Monitor. I sit by the bathroom in the left-most, round-backed, wooden chair, the one with the ripped leather seat. Sarah has placed two of these chairs under the stairs. When the fights break out, I’m never confused about where to run. After all, I sit right under the stairs. I am the Bathroom Monitor. I have to remember that when the fight breaks out or even when the harsh words start to get loud, if I jump up, I must lean forward first. Otherwise, I bop my noggin on the stairs before I can run up them to get help.

One time that happened. I forgot to lean forward. I bopped my noggin and got so dazed, and I was bleeding too, that when the police got there, they started to arrest me, because they thought I was in the fight. They had me in handcuffs before Sarah was able to explain to them that I am the Bathroom Monitor.

Sarah always says that the use of the bathroom at her bookstore is a privilege, not a right, and customers should be reminded of that when appropriate.

Sometimes the Bathroom Monitor has to say that a bookstore customer has been using the bathroom too much. Sarah says you can only use the bathroom, three times in each four-hour period. If the Bathroom Monitor sees someone, and it is always a woman, who is lining up to pee a fourth time in that period, I have to tell her, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you have used up all your bathroom privileges for this four-hour period. I can’t let you use the bathroom again.” Then I consult my watch so I can tell the lady when the next four-hour period starts.

Some customers stride so confidently down the stairs above the head of the Bathroom Monitor, swollen with piss or shit, expecting to use the bathroom without waiting, their boots or high heels making a loud noise on the wooden floor. Then they see there’s a line and it’s like the wind is knocked out of them for a moment. Then they get in line.

But what the Bathroom Monitor disapproves of is when these customers act like they are just browsing in the mass market, artless novels section of the bookstore, which happens to be where the line for the bathroom forms, and then act like, “Oh, since we‘re here, we might as well go, but we really don’t have to go as much as the people already in line.” The Bathroom Monitor finds this attitude to be disingenuous.

I have been the Bathroom Monitor for a long time. I don’t think anyone has had sex in the bathroom while I’ve been the Bathroom Monitor, but, as I said, my main job is to report when fights break out. There is certainly room for sex in the bathroom.

Bathroom policy at Sarah’s bookstore is rather laisaire faire. So maybe there has been sex in there, but I must have missed it. Anyway, that isn’t the reason I’ve been stationed here, in the wooden, round-backed chair with the ripped leather seat that, despite the rip, testifies to the importance of the Bathroom Monitor.

Sometimes customers sit on the wooden, round-backed chair next to the Bathroom Monitor after they’ve come out of the bathroom. They’re joyous at having relieved themselves. If the Bathroom Monitor is unlucky, they talk on their cellphones. On the way into the bathroom, when they are swollen with piss and shit, the bookstore customers, even the Jerseys, usually are quite respectful of the Bathroom Monitor. But after they have relieved themselves, it is a different story. They don’t care that I’m pretending to work right next to them. They don’t care that I am the Bathroom Monitor.

Labor Relations As They Concern The Bathroom Monitor --

Labor’s Position: The Bathroom Monitor’s union rejects language to include, as an austerity measure, in the new contract, an addition to the job description of the Bathroom Monitor that says he must distribute toilet paper to the people in line.

If the union is asked to increase the tasks assigned to the Bathroom Monitor such as handing out toilet paper, the union will be forced to take action to defend its members’ interests, which will include, but not be limited to, work actions, slow downs, work stoppages and if worst comes to worst and we continue to face a stalemate at the negotiating table, we reserve the right, and there is little doubt that the National Labor Relations Board will back us up, to reassign the Bathroom Monitor away from his seat on the wooden, round-backed chair with the ripped leather seat, to sit on the toilet, thus shutting down the bathroom for customers entirely.

Management’s position, Sarah’s position, is that these people, many of whom don’t even buy anything in the store, use way too much toilet paper. Management sometimes comes across big, softball-sized wads of toilet paper and this practice must be stamped out. Since we are paying the Bathroom Monitor to just sit there and report outbreaks of violence, why shouldn’t we also task him with the job of handing out toilet paper?


The Bathroom Monitor’s Response to Periods When The Bathroom Is Closed For Repairs

I am the Bathroom Monitor. When the Bathroom Monitor reports to his work station, to the wooden, round-backed chair with the ripped, leather seat under the stairs and he finds that the bathroom is closed for repairs, it forces him to question the usefulness of his existence.

When customers ask me about the reason for the closure, I tell them that it is because the wrens and the chickadees have again started to dominate the soundtrack of birds that Sarah has installed in the bathroom. Sarah insists that, and the Bathroom Monitor concurs, no one species should dominate the bathroom’s soundtrack. That would be as unfair as saying that the Jerseys didn’t have to wait in the same line as the other customers just because they are double-parked or using those dodgy parking spaces under the Williamsburg Bridge.


Baby Drops Rattle Right On Bathroom Monitor’s Noggin

I am the Bathroom Monitor. The Bathroom Monitor likes the way his work station, the wooden, round backed chair with the ripped leather seat, is tucked under the stairs, making a slight nook for his, not exactly privacy, but a tiny bit of seclusion as he pretends to work in the sometimes crowded bookstore.

The downside of this location is that when people drop things on the stairs, they sometimes bounce once or twice and fall through the spaces between the stairs and bop the Bathroom Monitor right on his noggin.

In addition to the potential for injury, these things striking the Bathroom Monitor on his noggin tend to undermine the authority of the Bathroom Monitor. When the Bathroom Monitor has been hit by a dropped rattle, a cell phone, or anything else that has fallen through the stairs, it makes it hard to maintain the serious, dignified demeanor that is needed to oversee the bathroom line.

The Bathroom Monitor’s gravitas, his moral authority is all he has to do his job. Remember that the half-broken computer Sarah gave him really suggests very little clout at all. The Bathroom Monitor is not armed, nor is he equipped with a uniform. Hence, his serious demeanor is all he has. When a baby’s rattle bops him right on his noggin, it can take many flushes for the Bathroom Monitor to regain his authority.

Bernard Henri-Levy, Other French Public Intellectuals to Accept Texas-Atlantic Bid

Paris, France – Dallas, Texas: Sept. 25, 2006: In a joint announcement, the French Cultural Ministry and LBO firm Texas Atlantic Group said the U.S. buyout group will lead a consortium of investors in a deal that will take France’s five most prominent public intellectuals private.
The cash and stock transaction, valued at 2 billion euros or $2.4 billion in real money, will close in early 2007.
The deal’s targets, besides Levy, are, Alain Robbe-Grillet, Jean Baudrillard, Somebody and Somebody.
David Bonkerman, founder of Texas Atlantic Group, said he and the other investors will combine the intellectual property assets of the five thinkers in a new company to be called Engage S.A. It will be based in Woodlands, Texas, an office park outside Houston.
The other investors, all buyout firms, are the Paul Blackburn Group, Silver Stream Partners, the TGIF Group and Slash and Burn Capital.
Bonkerman said that in addition to increasing returns from the print content output of the five intellectuals, the buyout group will launch a paid content web site, Engage.com, to monetize the intellectuals’ output on the Web.
“The new financial structure will mean that we will no longer be subject to quarterly pressure to publish in newspapers and journals and to appear on French book TV shows,” Levy said.
Cross-marketing will be another strategic plank in the newly privativeized group’s operations, Bonkerman said.
One of Engage’s first products will be a co-branded line of perfume to be endorsed by Levy and his wife, the lissome French model, actress, singer, and scent designer Arielle Dombasie.
“Under the current structure,” Levy said, “We are not being compensated properly for the steady flow of quips and pensees that we produce under enormous pressure.” He added that early plans call for some of the group’s output to be used as the underpinning of high-yield bonds that can be monetized in the CDO and other markets.
Bonkerman said the consortium plans for Engage to do more translations and look for spin-offs in non-print outlets such as bobble-head dolls of the five principals, Nascar hood ad placements, and more side deals like Levy’s appearance in the Grand Theft Auto video game.
The Texas Atlantic executive also said that in addition to exposing the five intellectuals to new audiences in North America, there may be opportunities, as Bonkerman put it, “to give Snoop Dog a Parisian spin.”
In addition, Engage plans to inject $500 million to speed up final coding, marketing and distribution of Baudrillard’s long-awaited video game based on the events of May 1968 in the capital.
“Sur le paves, le plage” or under the paving stones, the beach, the multi- title has been eagerly awaited by Euro-zone gamers.
Also in the works is a possible distribution deal with Wal Mart of Engage brand T-shirts, key chains and cheese graters.
But one prominent hedge fund manager said he wouldn’t touch the deal. “This is just a setup for a recap in which Texas Atlantic and their partners will add even more debt and leverage to these intellectuals to the point where they will no longer have the leisure time to sit around cafes and write their pamphlets on notebooks with thick, graph lined pages. TAG will kill the goose that writes the opinion pieces for Liberation and Le Figaro. Our fund is emphatically not interested in the bonds, the equity (if Engage returns to the public markets) or the bobble head dolls this deal will create.”


Counter-offer Emerges for Engage


A group consisting of Gaz de France, Bank Paribas, the Damone foods group, and Airbus said late yesterday, they will make an offer for the five French public intellectuals at the center of a buyout bid by a consortium of American LBO firms lead by Texas Atlantic Group. The group said they will add singer Johnny Halliday and the rights to Serge Gainsbourg’s recordings into the package in what they call a non-commercial attempt to safeguard France’s cultural hegemony.


“These writers and artists are like our Elgin marbles and we are not going to let a bunch of Texas LBO cowboys trample upon the rights of the French people to secure permanent access to this uniquely French cultural product. The output of these thinkers and artists is as uniquely French as the books to be found on the Seine’s quays with cream colored covers, no art, and titles running from the bottom to the top of the spine.”

The statement of the competing consortium went on to say, “As the heirs of the patronomie that has produced Montaigne, Collette, Renan, Racine, and MC Solaar, we will not allow this important sector of our culture to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.”



Brussels turns thumbs down on French bid to stop LBO of Engage Thinkers –

The court of the First Instance of the Second Compote, the European Union’s anti-trust arbitrator, said today that a French-sponsored, counter-offer for Engage was invalid because of the involvement of the French government in putting the offer together.
“We must protect the free flow of capital among the nations of the European Union and even, regrettably, to the Americans. Even if this means Serge Gainsbourg’s oeuvre will be administered out of some dank office park in Texas, we still must enforce E.U. regulations and allow the Texas Atlantic bid to proceed.”

Nadal Announces his Retirement, Cites Frequent Rain Delays

Barcelona, Spain (August 26, 2009) –Tennis star Rafael Nadal, five-time Grand Slam winner, and winner of an Olympic gold medal this month, said today that, effective immediately, he is retiring from pro tennis.
Nadal, who just this summer took over the No. 1 ranking from Roger Federer, said he was quitting because “I have reached an age where my work day should not depend on the weather.” The 22- year-old star, known for his viscous, lefty forehand and displays of pique when having to sit out the frequent rain delays on the Association of Tennis Professionals (ATP) tour, said he was looking forward to working indoors, perhaps in the family glass and windows business, in his home of Mallorca.
Keith Wiberforce, Nadal’s agent at the IMG Group, said that the star had considered options other than a complete retirement, but was unable to come up with an acceptable compromise that would keep him in the game and yet not expose him to rain delays.
“We looked at trying to limit Rafa’s season to the late fall and winter segment of the tour, which is mainly contested on indoor courts, but in the final analysis, the indoor events just don’t constitute a big enough percentage of pro tennis to make this approach feasible.”
Wilberforce noted that despite plans for a retractable roof at Wimbledon and the existence of one at the Australian Open, there were no plans to do anything to prevent rain delays at the other two Grand Slam tournaments, the French and U.S. Opens.
And at the level of important events just below the Grand Slams, the 10 Masters Series events,
only three are either indoors or equipped with a roof that would preclude rain delays.
A last ditch effort to secure Nadal’s participation in the indoor Master Series events in Paris and Barcelona, failed.
In a far-ranging press conference to announce his retirement, Nadal also said he felt that having turned 22, he is too old to go to work in shorts. In fact, he explained that his signature “pirate” pants, the three-quarter length trousers, which Nadal alone among tennis pros wore, were a response to jibes from his friends back in Mallorca about how silly it is for grown man to have to earn a living wearing shorts.
“The fellows I went to school with will now have one less thing to taunt me about on Friday and Saturday nights when we hit the bars in Manacor,” he said.
Nadal also revealed that he could hardly enjoy winning his first gold medal in Beijing because the skies were overcast for much of the time and he was worried it might rain.
“They told me it was pollution, but I don’t know. I think it was rain in the air that I smelled and it ruined yet another tournament win for me.
I’m happy to have endured this weather to win a gold medal for my country, but it stresses me out way too much to continue to put myself through this agita week after week on the circuit just for individual glory. I’d rather fiddle with the spreadsheets in the office of our family business. I look forward to the day I can yell my well-known cry of “Vamos” when I balance our monthly accounts instead of when I beat another hapless young millionaire having to compete in shorts under the constant threat of rain stopping play.”
Roger Federer, whom Nadal replaced as the world No. 1, said he could understand Nadal’s decision. “A rain delay can totally change the momentum of a match. As the two leading players, it usually works to Rafa’s and my disadvantage.”
The Swiss star added, “We’re well-paid, but between the constant travel, the pressure to perform and the frequent rain delays, the tour can be a grind even for top-ranked players like Rafa and me.”

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