Topic 5 of 27: Williams Meyers
Tue, Sep 9, 1997 (08:45) |
Paul Terry Walhus (terry)
Updates from William Meyers.
9 responses total.
Topic 5 of 27 [farm]: Williams Meyers
Response 1 of 9: Paul Terry Walhus (terry) * Tue, Sep 9, 1997 (08:46) * 125 lines
UPDATE III
9 September 1997
Dear Friends,
Here's the latest:
Still working as desktop publisher in the production department at
Columbia University Press, I work with book designers in laying out
books -- using the software program QuarkXPress on a Macintosh "Power
PC" computer to do the on-screen "electronic paste-up" now required to
prepare all the pages of a book (both typography and graphics) and
perfect them in every detail before sending the book off (on disk) to
be printed and bound.
After taking two graphic-design courses in the spring, I came up with
a small typographical portfolio that may be of some use in the future.
I'll be putting together a basic book-design portfolio during the rest
of the summer and the fall. By the end of the year I should be ready
to take on some book-design jobs of my own. The design director at
CUPress has been helping me out with this effort.
I'm still sub-letting a beautiful apartment in Washington Heights,
north of the George Washington Bridge, with a view of the bridge and
the Hudson River. It's in a co-op apartment building which has
limitations on the amount of time an apartment can be sub-leased --
but, providing I get the approval of the co-op board at the end of
each year, I could still be at the same address for as long as another
two and a half years. Whenever I have to move, I would want to stay in
the same neighborhood. It's only seven subway stops away from the
Columbia campus, where I work, and a relatively short commute each
day. Also, of course, the rent level there is right for me -- and, by
now, the neighborhood feels like home.
All our family's kids seem to be doing well. Henry is happily married
to Kitty in Washington, DC, and continues to take on increasing
responsibility in the Environmental Protection Agency. Christine
continues to work as a physician's assistant in a family-practice
clinic in Seattle, but has been giving serious thought to doing
volunteer medical work abroad. Genevieve will be returning in the fall
to the California School of Arts & Crafts in Oakland for her second
year of study toward a degree in art. Rose graduated from the Chicago
Institute of Art two years ago and remains in Chicago, working in
computer graphics.
Mary's ashes, in the meantime, have dissolved into the Atlantic. Since
her death, I have been a practicing Buddhist, and for the most part I
study the teachings of the Dalai Lama as an educational aid to my own
meditation. This year I took my two weeks of vacation in June in order
to attend the Dalai Lama's three days of teachings in upstate New
York; four days of teachings in Los Angeles; and the Peacemaking
Conference in San Francisco, where Nobel Peace Prize laureates Josi
Ramos Hortas of East Timor, Rigoberta Mencchu of Guatemala (her
sister, actually, standing in for her), and His Holiness the Dalai
Lama, among other major human-rights advocates (such as Harry Wu),
addressed the issues of nonviolent conflict resolution among
inner-city youth and the active use of civil disobedience to protest
human-rights violations around the world.
I also relate especially well to the teachings of Tibetan Buddhism as
passed down through the Western mind of Prof. Robert Thurman, the
preeminent academic authority on the subject, who conveniently teaches
at Columbia University and lives nearby. I helped to get Prof. Thurman
signed up with CUPress to edit a reference volume on Eastern
religions, and am hoping to be able to work in some editorial capacity
on that. I already edit his audiocassette albums for Tibet House, here
in New York, and recently published an edited version of one of his
Basic Buddhism lectures in the local (and L.A.) journal Free Spirit.
That could lead to a book of such lectures, which we've been talking
about with a friendly publisher.
I'm also still connected -- hanging by a thread, as yet unbroken -- to
the New York art-book publisher Stuart, Tabori & Chang, through my
literary agent Sara Jane Freyman, with the proposal for an illustrated
biography, The Dalai Lama of Tibet. The editor there asked in January
for ten more pages, in addition to the three interior pages and cover
painting originally submitted, to reassure her colleagues of our
ability to sustain a dramatic and sequential narrative in an
illustrated format. By September I hope to be able to turn in five new
pages, inked and colored, for their review, in the hope that five
pages, and not ten, will allay any anxieties or uncertainties about
our capabilities.
I believe the combined illustrative forces of my friends Dennis Janke,
Marjorie Strauss, and Marc Greene should be enough to convince anyone
on that point -- but production is a long-term, time-consuming task
when there is no seed/support money and everyone must fit in the
project, wherever possible, around the demands of their paying jobs. A
contract with an advance would make a tremendous difference, but
publishers are very cautious and conservative these days -- they're
losing money as never before -- so we practice our patience and
perseverance, while keeping the faith, in the hope that withthe
completion of these five pages, a new productive day will dawn.
The other major book project that holds some promise of being bought
and given a material reality is the book on the Huichol culture of
Mexico by Juan Negrin. The book would deal with not only the culture,
the environment, and the art of the Huichol, but the work that Juan
did with them over the last 25 years in the attempt to help them to
preserve their traditional culture -- by means of educational exhibits
of their art, as well as cooperative ventures in woodworking and
weaving that helped the Huichol people to retain more autonomy over
their natural resources and their own lives.
As a result of a fortuitous visit by Juan to their editorial offices
here a few months ago, this book, which has always had the potential
for being lavishly illustrated and produced, is now under serious
consideration by Harry T. Abrams Publications, the largest, most
heavily funded art-book publisher in the country. An enthusiastic
response by Harry Abrams editors to Juan's portfolio of visual
materials has led to new requests for additional materials, both
textual and visual. So far, it looks very promising. I would guess
that by the end of the summer we will know whether they are going to
go for itor not.
And we continue to hang on the edge...
William
Website address:
http://www.spring.com/~wmmeyers
Topic 5 of 27 [farm]: Williams Meyers
Response 2 of 9: Paul Terry Walhus (terry) * Tue, Sep 9, 1997 (08:53) * 248 lines
20 January 1997
To bring all my friends up to date at once, here's what's been
happening with me:
* I've been working long hours at Columbia University Press, working
with designers in the production of books with QuarkXPress; I've also
begun taking some classes in basic design & typography at the Fashion
Institute of Technology in order to acquire and expand my own skills
in book design. And I've been learning how to put this all presentably
on a Web site with the assistance of my friend Marc Greene. It's been
a long time coming, but the site is due for a major expansion soon,
with a new art gallery, among other things.
* The Dalai Lama of Tibet -- the Illustrated Life Story has been my
major personal project for the last three years. My feeling for a long
time has been that the book would be a hot and highly marketable item
if it came out before the release of the upcoming movies about the
Dalai Lama -- Kundun by Scorsese; Seven Years in Tibet by Annaud; and
two or three others in the works, one by Oliver Stone.
But the first two movies mentioned are due to be released by the end
of 1997, and any book we return to work on now, should a publisher
finally offer us a contract, would need at least two years to be
produced and distributed. I would anticipate spin-off comic (or
graphic-novel) versions of these movies, once the money has been
generated to finance them. It's been frustrating for the last year and
a half, having conceived of the idea originally and wanting to come
out first with the best.
Money has been a problem all along in getting the project moving. The
first artist I asked to collaborate with me on the book -- Eva Van
Dam, the Dutch artist responsible for the graphic novel called The Magic
Life of Milarepa, which inspired this one -- demanded $500 a page to
produce anything, even as samples to be included in a proposal. Not
having great cash reserves, I had no choice but to look for someone
else, then met Alex Grey, and in the forging of a new friendship, got
his agreement to produce some sample art for interior pages (with the
assistance, also volunteer, of Dennis Janke & Marjorie Strauss, of DC
Comics); I also paid Alex a token $1,000 for a cover portrait of the
Dalai Lama which could probably sell for ten times that much, and it's
such a masterwork in itself that it has lent great weight to the
proposal package that's been^Emaking the rounds of publishers, and has
helped to keep the project alive.
Now, after many attempts by my agent Sara Jane Freyman to find a
publisher for the book, we finally have one -- Stuart, Tabori & Chang,
"the illustrated-book publisher" in New York -- which has expressed
enough interest in the project to invite all of us involved with it to
their offices for a meeting about it. The editor, Erica Marcus, who
called the meeting, liked the idea of a graphic novel based on the
life of the Dalai Lama, but had some criticisms of the sample interior
pages, particularly the typography, and asked that those pages be done
over with some minor changes; and she also asked for eleven additional
pages, not in color but finished in black & white -- dealing with the
story of the discovery of the young Dalai Lama that brings Part One to
an end. She asked for this additional material in order to have a sure
sense of our ability to sustain a coherent narrative with a dramatic
continuity that's engaging and powerful enough to sell a lot of books.
Unfortunately, Alex is no more enamored of rendering sequential art
than he ever was -- he just couldn't make the leap, though he gave it a
good try -- and has no problem making the money he needs to support
his family, being what he undeniably and most fundamentally is: a
highly successful painter of visionary art. It was regrettable, I
thought, that the art-book editor we met with did not have more
appreciation of the potential offered by his being there in her office
at all. I was already prepared myself to accommodate Alex to whatever
level he felt comfortable with, valuing his collaboration to the
greatest extent.
But to produce eleven more pages of the Dalai Lama story -- which for
Alex can be no other than time-consuming and highly meticulous work,
yet with no sure promise of any financial compensation, just the
promise to accept the book and push it at the acquisitions meeting --
is, under the circumstances of his life, understandably too much to
ask. Even if I were to raise enough money to pay him the $500 apiece
for those pages that Eva Van Dam was asking, I think he would probably
still prefer not to do it. Having just finished a major work -- an
altariece/triptych with seven panels, called The Nature of Mind -- he's
hard at work now on his next book.
Sara Jane told me after the meeting with the Stuart, Tabori & Chang
editor that she thought Erica was right -- that more substantial
material for the Dalai Lama story was definitely needed; that this was
undoubtedly why the many other publishers who had expressed interest
originally had never followed through; and that she saw no point in
continuing to offer the book to other publishers, if we couldn't come
up with those pages.
If only I were an illustrator myself and could realize my own visions
in the medium, I would have not only those pages done already but the
entire book. That not being the case, I think the lesson that the
universe may be giving me to learn now is not to initiate any project
that I can't independently see through to completion. I must do what I
need to do on my own -- and I must completely minimize my needs, so that
I can at least be of some use to the world myself in the time I have
left. I will accommodate it and be of service to it however I can.
Fortunately, Dennis Janke & Marjorie Strauss, the DC Comics artists
who inked and colored Alex's sample pages, are willing to fill in for
him and are taking on the task of producing the remaining 77 pages --
if the next 11 that Erica Marcus is asking for help to push it over
the top. Mike Zeck, our other mutual friend at DC, will be assisting
in some capacity as well. Master as he is of panel art, any assistance
he manages to give us will be highly valued and appreciated. And we all
hope that Alex will at least remain available for consultation on such
matters as Buddhist iconography, where no one of the rest of us feels as
knowledgeable as we would like.
* The revised edition of Stephen Gaskin's Monday Night Class has not
yet found its way to a publisher either. Our editorial work on it has
been finished for almost a year now, and our agent Stephany Evans, who
had placed it with a great number of publishers, has relinquished it
to us as being one she can't do anything more with. She came close
with St. Martin's Press, whose enthusiastic editor Jim Fitzgerald,
recommended to us by Steve Hager at High Times, wanted to do a
back-to-back "classic reprint" of both Monday Night Class and The
Caravan, but he couldn't get the approval of his own marketing
department, which reflected the opinions of other publishers that it
was all "too retro," "too esoteric," "too limited in appeal," and
"wouldn't sell enough copies." When even Acid Test Productions in
northern California, "out to celebrate the spirit of the '60s," turned
down our revised update as being "too dated," Stephany finally bailed
out. (Acid Test Productions, incidentally, is another front for the
Grateful Dead group head, which had unresolved problems with Stephen
and the Farm for years.) Stephany did do a great service for us (and
all participants in future home birthings, I would say) by selling
Ina May Gaskin's new Spiritual Midwifery: The Next Generation to Simon
& Schuster.
I think Monday Night Class (as well as its sequel, The Caravan) will
be published eventually. It may take more time for the psychedelic
culture of the '60s to metamorphose in the cultural consciousness from
being a quaint and old-fashioned scene left behind to one that, having
acquired the luster of the antique, is rediscovered to be rich in
relevance to present-day concerns. Good tripping instructions, whether
for psychedelic trips or the trip through life, are always relevant.
In the meantime, as a short-term fix and possibly the only way to get
it published, I think it would be necessary to re-title the book
(nobody but a rapidly depopulating subculture knows what Monday Night
Class is or was, and it sounds boring and like a tedious read); and
also add a lot more visuals from the San Francisco and northern-
California scene in the '60s, not necessarily MNC-related, in order to
give it a more general and wide-ranging scope. In other words, I think
it needs to be transformed from an updated "classic" eries of talks to
a revelation and celebration of the formative years of a unique and
beautiful subculture that, in one form or another, still lives and
flourishes -- with the present text presented as a running scriptural
subtext within an art-and-caption-heavy context.
Meanwhile, Stephen has published a new book, Cannabis Spirituality,
with High Times Publications, and thinks that if its sales take off
after the upcoming promotional tour, Monday Night Class -- the New
Edition might sell as a good follow-up. And he may be right. I suspect
that question will have to be resolved before any agreement can be
made to change the title, much less to radically revise the basic
concept, structure and format.
* We've had high hopes for The Culture of the Huichol, a proposed book
of essays by three PhD anthropologists (Jay Fikes and Philip & Acelia
Weigand) and a scholar of art and comparative religion (Juan Negrmn,
who has spent the last 25 years working for the preservation of the
Huichol culture and ecology), old friends of long standing, dating back
to the days when our family livedin Guadalajara. Over the last three
decades, they've produced a substantial body of work, both in scholarly
research and in the field, on the most prominent of the best preserved
and most traditional of meso-American cultures (in Mexico's Sierra Madre
Occidental). With its heavy emphasis on the spiritual and visionary art
and ceremony of these cultures, the book could conceivably hold some
spectacular color inserts; in any case, art and photography in some
format, at least partially in black and white, would be included.
This extensive collection of material had been offered at first to the
Smithsonian Institution as providing the foundation for an extensive
meso-American exhibit that might be appropriate for its National Museum
of the American Indian. After it was turned down (an upcoming exhibit at
a yet to be determined gallery in New York City is now in the works),
the same material was passed on to John Michel, the acquisitions editor
of social/political/anthropological books at CUPress, and he went for
it, with enthusiasm. He's a collector of folk art himself, it turns out,
and he would have liked, if he had had his way, to publish the kind of
large-format book with color that the material deserves. But it first
had to pass a "peer review" by three reputable scholars in the field
(common practice with an academic press); then pass approval by the
publisher; by an acquisitions committee; a marketing committee; and
finally a publications committee composed of members of the board
of trustees.
Unfortunately, but all too typically, John Michel took it first to the
Columbia University Press marketing committee, and they (i.e., the
head of the department) turned it down with the comment, "Latin
American stuff doesn't sell." I thought that was one of the more
obtuse things I ever heard to rationalize a rejection, and let that
opinion be known probably more than I should have, since I also work
there -- but I couldn't help it. It was a resounding confirmation of
what I've been hearing for some time now, about how the entire
publishing industry is now so profit-driven (even nonprofit academic
presses, struggling to break even) that it's directed primarily by its
marketing departments -- for whom the editors are now loyal assistants
("product managers"), and from whom approval must be obtained, or any
project must be assumed to be dead in the water. John Michel suggested
we try the Universities of Texas, New Mexico or Arizona, who are more
inclined to handle "Latin American stuff," but for the most part he
lost my respect for his editorial counsel, having caved in immediately
and most obsequiously to the marketing department's offhand assessment
(he didn't even show it to them). But then, how can he be blamed, when
the truly independent editors have either resigned or been fired, and
those who have been retained know their place and the limits of their
power, and hang on to their jobs by not making waves?
* Without promise, without hope, life wouldn't be worth living. But,
so far, even in the face of consistent rejection over the last few
years, there has been no shortage of new and hopeful engagements to
turn to, and new sources of encouragement and support. My agent Sara
Jane told me in my last conversation with her that she had just last
year sold a beautiful full-color book on the Lacandon subculture of the
Maya Indians to one of New York's major art-book publishers (Abrams, I
think), with an accompanying first-person account of efforts to preserve
its culture and environment. When I told her about Juan Negrmn and his
25-year effort to help the Huichol culture attain greater self-
sufficiency, defend its traditions and protect its environment, she
said she would be very interested in seeing what we could come up with
that had to do with that endangered culture as well. So now I'm putting
together a new proposal for that one.
Saludos, amigos.
Wm
E-mail addresses:
wmmeyers@tuna.net (home -- nights, weekends)
wm64@columbia.edu (work -- weekdays)
Website URL:
http://www.spring.com/~wmmeyers
Topic 5 of 27 [farm]: Williams Meyers
Response 3 of 9: Paul Terry Walhus (terry) * Thu, Feb 5, 1998 (22:25) * 46 lines
Latest from William:
3 February 1998
This is to let you know that Christine is in the middle of her
eight-month trip through southeast Asia, and, after a month in India,
is currently trekking in Nepal, with a home base in Kathmandu. She can
be contacted there during the first two weeks of February and,
wherever she may be on this trip (Thailand and Vietnam are next), by
phone and e-mail:
Telephone:
1-800-864-8000
206-548-0061#
press 1
leave message
E-mail:
cmeyers38@hotmail.com
Mail:
c/o Heather Harder
502 South Fremont Avenue, Apt. 622
Tampa, FL 33606
Christine's friend Heather will be leaving on the 24th of this month
to rendezvous with her in Bangkok. She will be bringing her any mail
we send her.
Christine sends her love to everybody and says she looks forward to
getting back in August and visiting with us all soon after that.
Love to all
William
Topic 5 of 27 [farm]: Williams Meyers
Response 4 of 9: Paul Terry Walhus (terry) * Mon, Oct 4, 1999 (11:21) * 23 lines
Something recent by William, who I haven't heard from for a while:
http://www.newstrolls.com/news/dev/wmeyers/index.html
"This has been a century of war. Ever since the Great War delivered a
traumatic blow to civilization’s sense of permanence and security, the
world has endured an unending scourge of increasingly genocidal wars. With
the exponential growth of world population and the inevitable conflicts
among self-serving and expansive nations, the triumph of militarism as the
primary means of conflict resolution has been all but assured. Add a blind
dedication to perpetual economic growth, and the result for all of us has
been the devastation of life, habitat, and cultural heritage on a formerly
unimaginable scale.
Many of us have grown used to the enormities and pay little heed to the
less than awesomely devastating while whole peoples and cultures—not to
mention species and ecosystems—are systematically destroyed. Yet some
cultures and systems of belief have evolved to a degree of such beauty and
complexity—and what sometimes seems to be a level of enlightened
wisdom—that we can’t help but take notice of their fragility, and feel
moved to take some action to save them, because their destruction is
simply too painful to watch."
Topic 5 of 27 [farm]: Williams Meyers
Response 5 of 9: (sprin5) * Wed, Jul 19, 2000 (12:30) * 1 lines
We do then to overlook these momentous shifts in species and plant life in the morass of sensationalism on the news.
Topic 5 of 27 [farm]: Williams Meyers
Response 6 of 9: Paul Terry Walhus (terry) * Mon, Apr 30, 2001 (00:19) * 1 lines
William, come out of the woodwork!
Topic 5 of 27 [farm]: Williams Meyers
Response 7 of 9: Culcha (terry) * Mon, Jul 9, 2001 (09:34) * 14 lines
William Meyers has surfaced!
I got an email from him while on the road.
William's thriving at Columbia University and just had a great time down
in the St. John Islands in the Carribean. He's working on a new web site
but it's under wraps for now. His new girlfriend is attractive and
brainy, seeming to be quite his equal (or maybe even better half) though I
haven't met her yet.
I'm glad William has emerged from seclusion and depression. He seems
alive again and full of incisive and sometimes biting comments that cut
through all the trivia and hit at hard truths. He's beginning to look
like the new and improved revised version of the William of old.
Topic 5 of 27 [farm]: Williams Meyers
Response 8 of 9: Culcha (terry) * Wed, Sep 19, 2001 (19:39) * 53 lines
William Meyers
A Brief Biography
The Fifties
Born and raised in Chattanooga, Tennessee, son of a war veteran, he grew
up in the post-war prosperity, attending the well-funded schools of the
day, and graduating from high school in 1960 as a "National Merit
Scholar."
The Sixties
A scholarship to Columbia University led to his move to New York City,
where he spent his four years of college, graduating "Summa Cum Laude"
with a B.A. in English Literature in 1964. (For more information about his
subsequent education, please go to: Resume). After a long trip through
Europe, he returned to New York and worked for a year and a half as an
assistant editor for a book publisher. A freelance writing assignment in
Washington, D.C., led finally to a move to San Francisco, where he began
to write and publish stories.
The Seventies
He turned his attention to editing the books of a spiritual teacher with a
large following. The woman with whom he was living also became an active
member of this following, and helped to fund the publication of its books.
They soon married and had a child. When they went on to found an
experimental collective community in the farmland of Tennessee, she helped
to fund the purchase of printing equipment and the construction of a
publishing house, where he worked as an editor and learned the
fundamentals of graphic production.
The Eighties
After they left the farm -- now with three children -- and returned to
California, his wife pursued her pre-med studies while he returned to work
for various graphic-production houses in San Francisco. At the same time
he attended night classes at the City College of San Francisco, taking
specialized courses in typography, lithography, and printmaking. During
the three years that his wife lived with their three children in
Guadalajara, attending medical school, he went back and forth, importing
the visionary art of an indigenous culture in Mexico for sale in
California. He returned ever more frequently to work in California,
finally managing a type & design shop in Marin County, north of San
Francisco.
The Nineties
An internship for his wife at a hospital in Connecticut, and the
establishment of her practice there later as a doctor, led to the reunion
of their family in Connecticut and to his working again in New York City,
where he was able to return to writing for magazines and editing books. He
also returned to working in graphic production, in order to keep up with
the revolutionary changes taking place in the printing industry -- now
radically changed by the explosion of digital technology. As desktop
publisher for Columbia University Press, he acquired the skills for
working in both print and electronic media.
Topic 5 of 27 [farm]: Williams Meyers
Response 9 of 9: Paul Terry Walhus (terry) * Mon, Sep 24, 2001 (23:14) * 106 lines
From: William Meyers
To: tincanman99@aol.com, paul@spring.net, melvyn@freewwweb.com,
mmc@well.com,
moon93@aol.com, pgribbin@megs.inet.net, malysaght@aol.com,
dfrohman@aol.com
Subject: a subway ride
Postapocalyptic Meditations
23 September 2001
Thursday morning of last week I was taking the subway to work as
usual,
about nine in the morning, down from Morningside Heights to our
office
on 62nd Street, across from Lincoln Center. The train was packed full
of
people, as it always is in the morning rush hour, and I found a nook
in
which to tuck myself, next to the motorman's small compartment, at
thefront of the train. There was enough space around me there to hold
up
my copy of the day's newspaper and read the first paragraphs of the
stories on the front page, but only by keeping the paper folded in
half.
BUSH ORDERS HEAVY BOMBERS NEAR AFGHANS;
DEMANDS BIN LADEN NOW, NOT NEGOTIATIONS
That was the headline on the Late Edition of Thursday's Times.
At the 96th Street station, where the local train shares the platform
with the express and much movement of people from one train to the
other
goes on, a moment of panic suddenly struck. Shouts of alarm, screams
of
terror grabbed everyone's attention in the car where I was still
standing. Outside the window people were running past the front of
the
train and toward the 94th Street exit. Inside the car people were
yelling, "What's happening? What's going on?" Outside on the
platform,
they were too busy trying to get away to hear anything but their own
terrified voices.
It occurred to me that at that moment, or any succeeding one, a
blinding
white flash and explosion could instantly obliterate me and everyone
around me.
I waited for that to happen, as one moment succeeded the next. The
crush
of beings outside the train kept struggling for the exit.
Then the door of the motorman's compartment opened, and the motorman
--
tall and commanding, studded with communications gear -- emerged to
assess the scene. I was thinking, "Just keep moving, man!" But I
couldn't utter a word. He spoke something into his intercom about how
there was "an altercation" on the platform that needed to be
investigated. Then he got back into his compartment and shut the
door. I
prayed that that would be the end of it and the doors of the train
would
close.
The doors closed, and the train moved out. The south end of the
platform
slipped by, and the lights of the station fell behind us, overtaken
by
the darkness of the tunnel. People looked at each other in fear and
relief.
At some point before we reached the next station, 86th Street -- a
local
stop -- I realized how much adrenalin had been pumping through my
body.
Slumping against the door of the motorman's compartment, I closed my
eyes and waited for the enormous rush of energy to pass.
By the time we reached 66th Street, where I exited the subway, I was
thinking that the story of whatever had happened back there would be
emerging in the media soon and that I should be on the lookout and
looking closely for it. The person in the token booth at 66th Street
had
no idea what had happened back up the line. It was still too early, I
thought.
What could have happened? What did "altercation" mean? Had a
fistfight
broken out? Had it been "to the death"? Did one or both of the
fighters
look Arabic? Had one of them pulled a gun, or a bomb, or a flask of
anthrax?
Nothing was reported later in the media. At least nothing came within
range of my own sensors. Apparently it had been just another routine
incident -- one of all too many that have been occurring in our lives
here for the
last couple of weeks. I think it would be safe to say that the
stressload in Manhattan has been reaching a maximum tolerance level.
But
it's the new reality.
-- Wm
farm conference 
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