Barry Gifford & Lawrence Lee, �Jack�s Book: An Oral Biography of Jack Kerouac�
Instead of doing the boring chronological biography of Kerouac, which wouldn�t make sense as most of his books are biographical anyway, Gifford and Lee (which sounds like a chipper daytime talk show, if it isn�t already) have others ramble on about the rambling author, then do some cutting and pasting, and they get a book out of it.
It seems like a goofy idea, but it actually suits this purpose fairly well � you can�t get annoyed with a certain narrative, as it quickly moves onto the next person. Some stories contradict others, and points of view often come into play � all of which is more interesting.
Well, as interesting as you can get for somebody as uninteresting as Kerouac. Which isn�t saying much.
If I hadn�t just returned from a night out, I wouldn�t know what to say about this book. But being an �Oral Biography,� filled with reminisces from former friends and lovers, I now have an angle.
See, I�ve made mentions on previous posts about my punk rock icon status, but that�s really clinging to things that are almost a decade past. I was in bands, we went on tour, we put out records and put on shows, and nearly everybody from that era slept underneath my pool table at one point or another. But those memories fade and other people make achievements of their own, and my star faded into semi-obscurity.
Which I was glad for. Have a place that�s known as a crash pad for a couple of years and you tire of being altruistic. I went back to school and quietly disappeared from the limelight, which was just fine, both for the public and me. Of course, people like to reminisce, and that�s good for stories in bars where they bought the drinks, which was fine as well � just don�t ask me for a place to crash.
But the former star is shining again recently as word gets around about this upcoming show and my imminent departure from this area. I�ve sold more books this month than I have in the last six. I�m reaching the status of the boy who escaped the small town to find fame in fortune, which is odd, seeing as I�m leaving a city with a population larger than San Francisco and I have nothing that could be considered a fortune.
But I wonder about the oral biography that could happen, like in this book. �He was so driven. He was constantly studying,� somebody could say. �Even in a bar, he sat there reading, determined to make something of himself.�
Uh, no. I was just bored and rather disgusted by the meat-market atmosphere. Plus, I wasn�t going to walk away from a half-filled beer. And it�s possible I was too shy to actually say something to you.
I don�t know � sitting in the club tonight, watching people in an atmosphere that was too loud and too crowded to do anything but whoop loudly, I got to think about these things as my time left here gets shorter. And I think it comes down to a simple term: Spectacular Moments of Mediocrity.
Because I have to admit, I�ve done some things other people only wish for. I got to play in bands, make records, and go on tour. I put on shows that brought hundreds of people to see something I created. I traveled to a different country and wrote down my experiences for the hell of it, and got a book out of the deal. Not that the band or the book or the shows were best thing since people figured out how to wrap food in bacon. Because they weren�t.
Like I said, Spectacular Moments of Mediocrity.
Now it seems I�m playing the role of The One Who Escapes, or at least that�s what I�m getting from comments as of late. Fine. Well see what tangible item this new adventure brings.
Hopefully it won�t be another thing that I have to figure out how to cart around, as I have about 500 records and books with my name on it in my closet already.
