The White Notebooks #15 ]
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then your life becomes a travelogue, spent in clouds at icy altitudes [ the white notebooks #15 ] Corned Beef Sandwich Conversations I can imagine myself having, only someone else got there first the time so Young thought he was doing alright by this, GUS GRISSOM: What is it? even though it was a breaking of the rules. Up in space he JOHN YOUNG: Corned beef sandwich. shared the sandwich with his fellow astronaut Virgil ‘Gus’ GG: Where did that come from? Grissom, and they eventually got a reprimand for it. Their JY: I brought it with me. Let’s see how it tastes. in-flight discussion of the sandwich has become legendary Smells, doesn’t it? even though Young later thought everyone was making an GG: Yes, it’s breaking up. I’m going to stick it in my unnecessarily big deal out of it; not only that but it was pocket. being done in a way that was obscuring the actual JY: Is it? It was a thought, anyways. achievements of the mission. GG: Yep. It was eventually realised by NASA that no actual JY: Not a very good one. harm was done by Young’s action although in zero-G a GG: Pretty good though, if crumbling corned beef sandwich could certainly be seen as it would just hold together. a potential harm to instruments. But the fact that he did it JY: Want some chicken leg? set in motion in NASA an introspection before being GG: No, you can handle that. finally put to rest and memorialised in transcript. So in the spirit of John Young’s effectuating sandwich, I’d like to point out that I particularly like snatches of dialogue (and occasionally monologue) that ONE OF MY CHILDHOOD HEROES was the American illustrate moments where logic and reason cast light on Astronaut John Young, although this only came about moments of opacity, ignorance or stupidity, particularly when he got to travel to the moon as commander of Apollo when it’s done in the names of science or peace. But let’s 16 in 1972 – I was too young to have followed his career not be elitist about this: such enlightenment can happen with the Gemini program. But having a Young on the moon anywhere, even somewhere as mundane as Twitter or my was a big deal for me. We even shared the same birthday, Facebook feed. Collected here are an ongoing series of thirty years apart. found encapsulated conversations or monologues that On 23 March 1965 Young famously smuggled on result in a moment of clarity being reached, if not in the board the Gemini 3 spacecraft a corned beef sandwich. mind of one of those speaking then at least in the mind of NASA were actually researching how people eat in space at the reader. then your life becomes a travelogue. [ the white notebooks #15 ] April 2562/2019 a print perzine for limited distribution, available for ‘the usual’ also at efanzines.com. email: [email protected] 136/200 Emerald Hill Village, Soi 6, Hua Hin, Prachuap Khiri Khan 77110, Thailand set in 9/12 Didot and Letter Gothic above: John Young, age 34, 8 March 1965 (NASA, public domain) [ 1 ] SAMUEL R. DELANY Quoted in Spider Robinson, Off DOUG SPENCER Facebook, 21 December 2017 the Wall at Callahan’s, 1994 Julia: “I apologise for doubting you.” “Rupture” occurs when you think you are in the Me: “No, no, doubting me is good technique. I often middle of a conversation with someone… and doubt myself, and I’m always right.” suddenly discover that you’ve merely been making noises at each other, that there is a previously unsuspected chasm between you. LUCY HUNTZINGER Facebook, 8 January 2018 Me, age 5-58: What do you mean you only read ten new books last year? Are you ill? Me, age 60: No. No. I just. I don’t know. No one writes ELLE OH HELL Twitter, 14 January 2019 MARIE KONDO: Does this item spark joy? the kind of books I like to read anymore. Except for ME: no those few authors who are reliably great and some MARIE KONDO: Does this spark joy? non-fiction I enjoyed. ME: No, it doesn’t Past Me: Dude, you don’t read books because you’re *three hours later in an empty house* guaranteed to like them. You read to discover new ME: Oh wait I have depression ideas, new information, new beloved authors. What’s wrong here? Present Me: ... Past Me: Look, you need to read new books. Your TADE THOMPSON Facebook, 29 January 2019 brain isn’t getting any bigger re-reading books you Me: Shall I get laser surgery? know by heart. How about one a month? Fiction, Opthalmologist: Sure. It’ll reduce your prescription non-fiction, whatever it takes. strength. Present Me: That doesn’t seem unreasonable. But I Me: so I’ll still need glasses? don’t have any books in the house I haven’t read. Opth: (laughs) you will always need glasses. Well, John’s. But his are all histories of battles and Me: (laughs) why are we laughing at my blindness? guys with beards and stuff. Past Me: His don’t count. You have to read stuff you feel intrigued by. Plus Neogenesis is out now. Go! DOUG SPENCER Facebook, 23 March 2019 Read more books! Ian: “There’s a word for it, a word I can never remember because I’m convinced it starts with a P So I am going to do that. Twelve books this year. It when in fact it starts with an S.” seems completely ridiculous that I have to make a Me: “Tautology.” statement about it and promise myself I will read Ian: “Yes! You can see my problem.” more often. But here we are. TADE THOMPSON Facebook, 4 April 2018 LIZ WILLIAMS Facebook, 30 December 2017 This will only make sense to some of you. Me: [mutters to self on way to work] Talk less, smile Tarot client: (female, friend of a friend, in the G&P) more, don’t let them know what you’re against or what So do you do the Tarot for yourself? you’re for. Me: Yes, but not a lot. I might pick a card a day to see Me: [15 mins into working day] *Loud, emphatic what the day will bring. [picks a card] statement about personal philosophy as intersects with Client: What is it? work* Me: Three of Cups! Me: [1 hour into working day] *Delivers socialist Client’s female friend, suddenly appearing: Hi! manifesto with dark threats of revolution* Would anyone like a drink? Me: [At end of working day] Tomorrow, I’ll talk less... LIZ WILLIAMS Facebook, 25 December 2017 ÅNNI AJOOTIAN Facebook, 17 March 2019 Trevor Jones: I need to make a tinfoil hat. some stagehand probably: mr. tchaikovsky sir we Me: :: raises eyebrows:: can’t actually hit the drum this hard it will break the T: for the TURKEY... [withering look] It’s afraid of instrument the microwave. potyr ilyich tchaikovsky, wheeling a cannon into the theater: does it look like i give a fuck, johann psilentasincjelli: someone told me once that shooting stars are really just angels throwing away their LIZ WILLIAMS Facebook, 26 December 2017 cigarettes before God could catch them Twas the night of Christmas and all through the smoking house, not a creature was stirring, not even a— Trevor Jones: [in the pantry] Oh fuck! #someone get me a young child i have wisdom to Rat: Oh fuck! pass on [ 2 ] Tr a v e l s Clint Fox TIME WAS WHEN I BELIEVED having an American friend, at years, isolated on separate sides of the Atlantic. the dreadful Catholic boys’ school I attended in Reading What brought us back together was Clint’s father, in the 1970s, possessed a certain caché. Clint Fox and his who had passed away in the mid-1990s. He wanted his younger brother Eric lived not far from me down one the ashes scattered in the River Thames at Sonning, and ‘best’ roads in the area; in other words, one of the richest. Clint’s brother Eric came over to the UK to do the job. The houses were generally huge, or at the very least old While in Reading he happened to run into my own and well preserved, and the Foxes lived in just such a younger brother, who had been as firm friends with Eric place known as Red Fox Cottage. Clint’s father, a as I had been with Clint. We quickly re-established confirmed Republican, worked in the nearby office of a contact. He was living in Houston and getting married US oil company that made pipelines, and he did indeed soon – how about I come over for the wedding? A few take home very good money, so much that he was also able months later I made it to Houston a few days early for his to set up a sideline business making quality penny- big day with Cheryl, his bride-to-be. He was living in a run farthing replica bicycles and selling them across the world. down apartment and was now working as a double-glazing No adult I knew was as cool as Clint’s dad, who was even salesman. “My father died a drunk,” he said in conver- more cool than my own dad the way he’d casually strut sation, early during my stay, “and my mother remarried.” around his house in a white vest over his huge belly plus I’d liked his mother too, but Clint’s new stepfather was cut stripey boxer shorts, without any thought to decency in from a very different cloth, outwardly affable but inwardly front of his kids’ friends.