PRESSURE PRESS ARCHIVE
RETICULATED DAYS IN THE LIVES OF A REGULAR MAN
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 CHAPTER 5
All week I've been sleeping on the couch as the tv plays thru morning & middle afternoon. The telephone woke me at 11:30. It was Cheryl Townsend.
"Well holy shit, Ron, I concede you're more famous than me after seeing the new Chiron Review!" she declared.
"I've always told you that, & it's about time you believed it," I sd firmly, playfully.
"That is certainly some big spread!"
"Yeah." I wasn't as drunk as I figured I was when I answered Oberc's questions after all, & altho my left or right eye is swollen from the drink & smoke & sleeplessness, the photographs by Diane are actually pretty good. Todd Moore's giant essay at the back is entitled "Sex, Work, and Ron Androla", & he's making me out to be worthy of literate, critical study I'm a little embarrassed, as if I have a "place" in the future. Looking back over all these years of writing, the Chiron feature feels like an ultimate reward, a true kiss.
"Did I wake you?"
"Yeah. That's ok. Did you see Zen Tattoo yet?"
"No!"
"Dan Nielsen has a poem in there he wrote for us about yr panties."
"Read it to me!"
I read her the poem.
"Pink? He thought the panties were PINK?!"
"I don't know why."
"They were BLACK!"
"Yeah Cheryl, they were black."
"I feel like I'm riding yr coat-tails, Ron."
"You are. How about sending me a few thousand dollars, ok?"
"I don't think so."
"How about my mortgage for a month?"
"Well, I wanted to congratulate you."
"Thanks."
"I just sent you a letter."
"Good." We talk a bit more. My eyes are closed, & Cheryl must sense it, letting me go back to sleep.