When she used that tone of voice, it was best to obey.
-Nial Kent
"The Divided Path"
Kafka's writing attracted little attention until after his death. During his lifetime, he published only a few short stories and never finished any of his novels. Prior to his death, Kafka wrote to his friend and literary executor Max Brod:
"Dearest Max, my last request: Everything I leave behind me ... in the way of diaries, manuscripts, letters (my own and others'), sketches, and so on, are to be burned unread."
Brod overrode Kafka's wishes, believing that Kafka had given these directions to him specifically because Kafka knew he would not honor them—Brod had told him as much.
Kafka’s lover, Dora Diamant, also ignored his wishes, secretly keeping up to 20 notebooks and 35 letters until they were confiscated by the Gestapo in 1933. An ongoing international search is being conducted for these missing Kafka papers.
Brod, in fact, would oversee the publication of most of Kafka's work in his possession, which soon began to attract attention and high critical regard.
During my first evening at the W-Hotel in San Diego (the other night) I wrote more words by Franz Kafka on the chalkboard. Sometimes you have to re-read his words to grasp it all. This time I wrote the following:
“What are lungs supposed to do?”
I shouted. Shouted: “If they breathe fast they suffocate themselves from inner poisons; if they breathe slowly they suffocate from unbreathable air, from outraged things. But if they try to search for their own rhythm they perish from the mere search.”
Twenty-five years ago today:
August 24, 1984
Friday
The telephone rang at precisely 7:10AM. I thought it might be Chris Cordellos but it was mom.
“Where were you last night?” mom asked.
“I was out with Chris, why?” I replied, as it is unusual for her to ask about my whereabouts at such an early hour.
“I am in the hospital,” she said.
I took a deep breath as her words started to sink in. I was just waking up and heard her telling me something about her ‘gall bladder’. I was frightfully worried. I almost wanted to take the day off from work. But then, mom reassured me. What could I do? It seems she was resting today.
When I called Chris from work (on my first break) I told him about my mom.
“I’m coming into The City to see you,” Chris said.
I arranged to meet him in front of Grodins Men’s Store. We grabbed a bite at A&W and ate outside with the ‘bums and pigeons’ near Powell Street. We walked over to put money in his parking meter.
“I’ll be having dinner at my mom’s house,” Chris said.
“Okay, I will call you there after I visit my mom at the hospital.”
After that I returned to work.
I told Bobbie Renbarger that I was not going to Barnaby’s for drinks tonight. When I explained about my mother she was more than understanding.
This morning Linda Nannizzi came close to me and actually talked to me on the BART train. I was surprised. I actually saw her first but I wanted to test her motions. I wanted to see if she would make the first move to approach me. She was cordial. We are friends. As far as anything more…who can tell with a ‘naive nineteen-year old’.
After work I saw Linda again but I did not run up to her as I had done only a week or so ago. The fire has been burnt out.
As soon as I was home I wrote my mom a ‘get well card’, grabbed Helen’s flowers and bought some groceries at Safeway and magazines at Walgreens. Helen Wong got flowers for me to deliver on her behalf. I spoke to Rick at Lucky’s who directed me to a Flower Shop at the South Shore Center.
“Are you John’s brother?” Rick asked.
Rick had nice big arms and was telling me that he and Robert Gaspar (another friend of my brother who worked at Lucky’s) were taking their vacations next week. I began to wonder if they were taking their vacations “together”. Hmmm…very interesting.
I bought mom a dozen peach colored roses. I arrived at Alameda Hospital at 7PM only to learn that she was still in surgery for the gall bladder operation. I left her magazines and flowers and returned home.
I telephoned Chris’ house.
“Oh, Chris called and said he wasn’t coming home tonight for my ravioli because he was with some friends at the Sherman,” Mrs. Cordellos said.
I knew that the Sherman vessel was home ported at the US Coast Guard’s Governor’s Island in Alameda. I imagined Chris was with his friend, Clay, and the rest of the USCG geeks.
“Did Chris make any plans with you?” Mrs. Cordellos asked.
“Well, kind of” I replied, “I am sure he will call me.”
Chris was telling me last night that his mother had asked if he was feeling troubled about me. Ironically, he was feeling troubled because of the way I abruptly got off of phone after he told me Clay was coming over to visit that night. I can still recall saying, “I’ll catch you later.”. Chris confessed that he was tempted to tell his mom about “us” but he refrained. His mother probably knows. Don’t all mothers know?
I just thought of something random. Myra, the one who thought I was about twenty-six years old at that Baxter’s Restaurant and bar had though I was Greek or French. That was funny.
The telephone rang three times tonight. The first time it was Cedric Green. He wanted to go out but I explained about my mom. He was still persistent though. Cedric also started to suggest that we go to Hawaii together in September. Truthfully, I would rather go alone. I did not tell him that, of course. It is how I feel though.
The second phone call was from my brother, Tony. He called to tell me that the doctor called and the operation went fine.
“She’s fine and sleeping soundly and recovering,” Tony said reassuringly.
It was nice to imagine her waking up to my flowers and Helen’s flowers.
The third phone call was from my Dad who called to say a few kind and reassuring words.
It was 9PM and Chris Cordellos still had not called. I wonder. Shit!
I wanted to watch the movie “Oxford Blues” at 10PM. I kept thinking that Chris is such an “asshole” for not calling me. And if (by chance) he did call once his efforts were not good enough, considering I have been here for this long. Now I am tired and feel like napping…but then again, I almost feel like going out. If Chris does not call or come by tonight I am definitely avoiding ‘the sucker’ tomorrow.
Oh hell…Cedric called once again at about 9:15PM. He kept badgering me and finally persuaded me to go out with him and two of his girlfriends tonight. One of the girls he knew from Holy Names College. Apparently, he also went on a trip to Europe with this girl, too. Her name is Norma. The other gal is Christie. Cedric also mentioned the fact that ‘they both have money’. I thought that was a slightly rude statement (as if it mattered).
We arranged to meet by 10PM at Lucky’s parking lot on College Avenue in North Oakland (near Karyn Kossoff’s pad and across the street from the famous Zachary’s Pizza place). I arrived first. Then I noticed another mustang with two girls (Norma and Christine) pull up. Then, Cedric appeared in his car.
I thought Christie was very good-looking at first glance, a blond chick. She reminded me a bit of Tammy Duhr. As I got to know Christie during the night I found her to be really ‘stuck on herself’. She could not make very good conversation. Christie was just plain stupid. She fits the picture of a ‘dumb blond’. I would easily nominate her as ‘Miss Plastic 1985’.
I tried to make the best of the night. I made the big mistake of making it a ‘group effort’ and not taking my car. It did not allow me to leave when I wanted to escape.
We ended up at the ‘Bank Exchange’ and we saw Ruben Ignacio (a former co-worker from the Oakland Residence Account Center). Ruben was with some other Asian friends (a lot of them) who were from the Bay Hill Residence Account Center in San Bruno. I had a fairly good time but it started to get ‘shitty’ when I realized that I was stuck there. I need to be able to leave freely.
Norma was pretty nice, too. She kind of ‘caked on the make-up’ to look like a circus clown. It is very cheap looking if you ask me. I think the two girls are possible lovers of the ‘darker persuasion’. I don’t mean to come across as 'any which way' but those girls were definitely NMT (Not My Type).
I did not get into bed until 3:30AM or so! It was a relief to be home. I cannot believe that they all suggested breakfast at almost 3AM. I just wanted to be home. Home Sweet Home.
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