so you said happy new year to her anyway? even if it wasnt new years?

you should have said “i’m a writer. obviously. because i’m WRITING. and at least i’m doing it quietly and not making a fool out of myself or making unnecesary comments to promote my obviously diminishing self image.”

but then, she probably would have cried..

You’re absolutely right Anne, and that’s a big reason why I said nothing.  I hate that I can’t whale into someone even when they deserve it.  I’m debilitated by politeness.  However, I was a bit freaked by her calling me an actor because I was doing a lot of acting, I was in plays all the time.  So maybe she had some kind of special information about me.  I didn’t know the extent of her secret powers so I decided to play it safe.  Yeah, that’s what I did.  Forget that “politeness” stuff.

First off… “Porlockian traveller” used here to epitomize the plebeian instance of ‘Ms. Everyday’ (or really, by stripe, all Ms./Mr. Everydays) is a kind of head rush for me [besides ‘Porlockian’ just feels so cool as it rolls off the tongue - Porlockian - Porlockian].

<Note to self: learn some cool, big words like Porlockian>

It’s late and I am a bit ‘in me cups’, but isn’t art a kind of ‘Porlockian’ snapshot of the mundane? By freezing the unwitting actors in a frame aren’t we not so much invading their privacy as we are proving that is doesn’t exist.

As long as Ms. “wasn’t what I’d call visually engaging” sees her actions as ephemeral she is cool and “bring on the Jagermeister, Happy New Year!” ... however, if her actions have a life other than the immediate they aren’t hers any longer and something she does not understand (but values greatly nonetheless) has been taken from her. It may well be that those actions have been turned into something extraordinary (case in point) but they are no longer hers and that can be seen as an invasion.

And aren’t artists/writers simply serial Porlockists (Porlockianists ... Porlockers ... Porlockians ... screw it). Don’t we seek to stand outside or on the edge ("by myself, sipping a beer") and Porlock the moment?

Damn, I should just go to bed.

i just got my mix today! thank you SO much dan! my turn to send presents now!

Hey BG, you’ve got a whole Porlockian philosophy that deserves closer attention - but I was just talking about the legendary “commercial traveller from Porlock” who is said to have knocked on Sam Taylor Coleridge’s door as he was writing “Xanadu” and broke his train of thought and he never got it back and therefore never finished what is by many considered to be his masterpiece.  But your version carries more meaning so I think I might prefer it.

What a wench! Good for you for calling her on it, sheesh!

Happy New Year, Dan! Thanks for all the great reads.

Next time Dave (or anyone) contradicts your recollection, just tell them you have a right to twist and bend the truth to suit your literary needs and then slip him a $50 to ensure his silence.
And should you ever be mocked or attacked for public writing again, assure your attacker that they are not nearly as interesting or attractive as they believe themselves to be and would therefore never make it onto one of your literary endevors. That should shut ‘em up nicely.

I might have missed the mark a bit in my use of Porlockian but I had always thought that it carried the connotation of an interruption - and specifically one of moment. I was trying (perhaps misguidedly) to draw a parallel to art being a kind of screen capture of everday life.

Sure the proverbial traveller interrupted ole Sam and gave rise to the usage of Porlockian as an interruption of art by the day-to-day. Your piece just gave me this aha experience where I realized that the reverse is also possible (if not implicit) in the instance where art freezes a point in time. Anyway, it was fun to kind of roll that thought around in my head for a bit.

Thanks

hey BG that makes good sense to me now - I appreciate you giving me a chance to “catch up” with you intellectually.  That’s (what you said was) exactly what I think was happening, and it’s a damn fine use of Porlockian.  I’m in your debt.

OK...I have nothing good to offer on the subject of Porlockianism (though I too LOVE saying Porlockian now) but I did see Marshall Crenshaw at a club in New York City on New Years Eve two years earlier than the night of which you speak.

Happy New Year Dan and thanks for all the good words!!

I like Jules’ idea, the one about slipping me $50.