Anodyne
Saturday, May 05, 2007
 

Tinkling keyboards, rumbling synth bass and wide drums in what could just as easily be an aircraft hanger or a cathedral. Meanwhile, down below, on street level, our man plows through his 2006 fiscal year end, sifting through stacks of mis-labelled receipts, runny invoices that survived the washer and the dryer, crucial capital additions expensed in previous years, source payroll deductions made from subsequently closed accounts. . . .

The office looks like a Cruikshank sketch of a lawyer's cubicle. Papers cover every conceivable surface, interspersed with books borrowed from friends and never returned, toothbrushes, shaving gear and assorted camping supplies, a can opener, anti-fungal powder, clean socks, artworks (mixed-media collages; c-prints; pencil drawings), emotionally tumultous letters from folks I no longer speak to, the same from folks that I still do, tent pegs, climbing guidebooks, topographic maps, loose CDs, bottle caps, rubber bands, mouse turds, an annotated list of income trusts worth less than 25% of their original value, carabiners, an empty Glenlivet bottle, Benjamin Buchloh's collected writings, a signed copy of The Climax Forest, loose Gasoline Alley dailies, a facsimile edition of Graham and Dodd's Security Analysis, photocopies of the Buffett Partnership letters, comic books, Barron's back issues, Nevada pebbles, oil pastels, eraser shavings and pushpins.

& etc., as they say.
- posted by cjb @ 6:48 PM


<< Home

Powered by Blogger

.post-title { display: none!important; }