Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Not sure where I picked this one up.
Running short on time this morning, so I'll give you a quick anecdote about Rodefer as told to me by one Robert Creeley.
Rodefer was one of the bright lights of the Olson years at UB. Handsome, brilliant, wild, everything Olson could have wanted in a student. He wrote his dissertation on Creeley. After he graduated, he proceeded to get a job at the University of New Mexico alongside the subject of his dissertation, Creeley, who, it so happened, had started splitting his time between Buffalo and New Mexico since the departure of Olson following the sudden death of his wife Betty in a car accident outside Buffalo.
When he heard from Stephen that he'd gotten the job, he asked him how much he was being paid. The figure he quoted was significantly higher than they were paying Creeley, who immediately fired off an angry missive to the department chair (or a phone call, I can't remember), demanding he explain how some punk just out of grad school, who'd written a dissertation on HIM, for christ's sake, could get paid more than Creeley.
The reply was simple and straightforward. "Well," said the department chair. We've already got you."
from Passing Duration
THE DAY WAS NEARLY FINISHED drawing clothes, and dusk was getting darker, slowing down all the ground hogs, and I was alone but felt like engraving the evening anyway, a little sore I guess, but remembering that nothing really could go wrong and feeling like telling everyone just such a thing as this.
Help me to brainstorm this real idea and we'll both survive. If you've ever written a plan, give me a chance to break down the court and it'll all pass off. Don't give me any load about the past. I experience the present well enough, and don't need another deal beyond a few hands. I choose you for my toast and salve the entrance.