Memorial Day is one of those hinkey holidays like president’s day that used to have a date, but got shifted for commercial reasons - but don’t take my word for it · do your own research. I remember one Memorial Day, which 40 years or so later, remains memorable. I was back in Costa Mesa after conquering the art world of NYC, or so i’d convinced myself at the time & apparently for a long time afterwords; living in a house that was a nexus for many transitional adventures. I was working for “Crazy Cliff”, one of many characters that were about to enter and exit my life at the time. He was older and mysterious having been in prison for “marijuana sales” but living in his Mommy’s house in tony part of Eastside Costa Mesa. Cliff was the character “King Rat” from James Clavell’s novel, only as a felon he’d never served in the military. His business was landscaping and junk, with enough contracts to keep afloat and his right hand man in beer - i was considered temporary, and barely made enough for beer. This particular Memorial day after he’d set up is right hand man, he and i drove in his 54’ faded Teal Green 3/4 ton Chevy to one of the rental yards - i covet that truck to this day, may have even driven it once or twice.
The only thing about Cliff that you could count on, was the unexpected - that morning was no different. We picked up a contraption that was the weirdest fucking lawnmower i’d ever seen, with metal wheels about 3 feet(1 meter) in diameter in the rear and some kind of swivel mechanism on the handles that made no sense at the time. Cliff liked being mysterious and when asked questions would just bulge his eyes out and look up into your face, because he was short and pugnacious in a gregarious kind of way. We drove some distance out of Costa Mesa using mostly alleys, and pulled up to a gate, yanking the contraption off the back. With some trouble, he was able to push the gate open to reveal a yard about the size of a little league diamond 60 feet(20 meters) to a side, could’a been smaller, but not by much. The weeds in the yard were foxtails taller than Cliff. The trick to operating this contraption was to push down on the handle such that rotary blades could be gently dropped onto the offending vegetation in such a way, one did not stall the engine or jam the rotors. It was late may, so the vegetation was no longer green, but early enough in the day for much of it close to the ground to me moist enough to gum up the rotors or stall the motor - 2 cycle engines have a rope crank, and i won’t try to explain what that means to all you, neophytes in the audience.
Cliff made a cursory demonstration and was out the gate to be gone for the rest of that very long Memorial day. The owner of the house was a kindly sort and took pity after a 1/3 got cut to ground and brought water. I was goofy strong in those halcyon days, and actually got closer to completion prior to exhaustion than i would have imagined before this experience - like the man said “you gotta know your limitations.” I don’t remember the particulars, whether the debris was picked up, if it was dark before Cliff got back or whether i woke up the next day or not. He got the weirdest contracts: one time dragging trimmed Cypress off the glass enclosed patio where Coast Highway is no longer Corona Del Mar except the patio was lined by the early version of astro-turf and the owner was retentive to beat the band; another occasion a line of apartment yards fronting Susan Street in Santa Ana, easily 3 football fields in length, or it just seemed that way. Cliff was a character and was the first in my memory to suggest adversity was a great advantage rather than a curse to the idyllic Lotus Eating quest for the perfect high of the time. His expression, from his guru, (talk about your cognitive dissonance) problems are like traction in mud - they give you something to dig into.
Ultimately, Cliff was a Con to the bone because everything was based on keeping the other in the dark to your advantage, or retrieve castoffs he wanted to decorate his Mommy’s house with. I have to distrust those who are not forthright - who will not declare up front the agenda and intent, but i learned a lot from Cliff, like learning to see behind the curtain. In his case it was a 57 T-Bird 2-tone Coupe that you could just see through the smudged window of the garage in the back, if you moved the flower pot with the plastic flowers on the shelf full of pots of plastic flowers. Would that were all i learned from Cliff, or that i had learned more than i could have, my life may have been much different, but the story doesn’t end there. Some time later in the company of my new paramour who had either just become, or was to become my 1st wife, we visited Cliff, thinking she might be impressed by the caliber of people i knew - little did i know. In our short visit, Cliff proceeded to cock-block me and ask Joy point blank, “are you free and unencumbered.” I must have been in the thrall of both to ignore her affirmative response, but too hungry and ignorant to let her out at the next corner.
Instead we drove back to my back bedroom of a duplex the creative owner had divided into a triplex where upon she turned to me on the couch and said, “what can you tell me about Cliff?” In those days i had much repressed emotion that i didn’t pay much attention to, and little restraint on my behavior. The only response i could muster was to turn away from her and pivot in my seat to hit the wall with my closed fist. I had grown up in the modern houses whose walls were gypsum board with much give, but this house was old school - lathe and plaster and my outer 5th Metacarpal of my right hand gave way before the wall did. By the time this particular learning experience reached a conclusion i had married and divorced Joy, broke the same bone on my left hand and while it was in a cast rent a gash in my right arm requiring 60 stitches - 1976 was a long year, but ultimately very useful for distinguishing fact from fiction when faced with wants vs facts. It is difficult anymore to supersede the behavior of people with a desire born of an unexamined desire or belief. I may not want to die, but i am going to - i may want to kill you, but that doesn’t require me to act on that impulse. It is a good thing to live deep within one’s soul for there are few people who give a fuck about what they are experiencing, much less have an active interest in your understanding of the world - peace and love people · everything else is bullshit.
jts 31/05/2020
http://stoanartst.blogspot.com
reprinted with permission - all rights reserved
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