The notebook was purloined sometime between 2pm on April 4th and noon on April 5th. The thief absquatulated and remains on the loose. Up with this, we will not put. Unless we have to, which we might.
Worse, our feelings are hurt. Mildly. It's just hard to know why anyone would take the notebook without emailing, as per the instructions. What could have spurred such a mildly malicious act? Such a minor act of fuckery, what good does that do anybody, including the jackass himself? Like, what are you gonna do? Sell it?
The good news is that we were able to salvage some of the entries through these notes. The other good news is that the notebook only cost a cool $4, so it can be replaced. Stay tuned for version 2.0.
If you have any information on the whereabouts of the notebook, contact the nearest police station and demand they arrest the hoodla responsible.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Day 2
So far, it being less sunny but possibly more pleasant, the crowd seems older, wiser, and more helpful. “I like to see the Ambassador of Good Will (Lee Dodge) & all her human and dog admirers, of which I’m one.” This was signed “Steve Lockitch [something] Alexander Enterprises”. It was difficult to transcribe.
Lee Dodge found another fan with particularly beautiful handwriting. “We’ve been walking Green Lake for 10+ years. The seasons come and go. The trees grow – the bunnies hop! We were 40ish then – we’re 50ish now Hopefully we’ll be doing it when we are 90ish like Lee (The Ambassador) an inspiration to young women of 50. –K&M.” Whoever you are, Mizz Dodge, you are loved.
We know you’ve been waiting, but we got the rest of the Spanish quote from Day 1. “Estamos Aqui. Fer y yo, viedo a lo gente loca que sale a correr sin playera con este frio tan mendigo. Esperando a que salga Victor y dandole de comer a munequito en este hermoso lugar. Green Lake.”
A translation, courtesy of SLM: “Here we are. Fer and I, watching the crazy people that come out to run without a shirt in this frigging cold. I’m waiting for Victor to come out and giving my little baby boy a bite to eat in this beautiful place. Green Lake.” Based on this evidence, a mother with her baby boy probably waiting for her man, I would have to say that I slightly misread this yesterday. Her writing recorded the creation of a memory. I don’t think anyone will need to remember that moment for her.
Lee Dodge found another fan with particularly beautiful handwriting. “We’ve been walking Green Lake for 10+ years. The seasons come and go. The trees grow – the bunnies hop! We were 40ish then – we’re 50ish now Hopefully we’ll be doing it when we are 90ish like Lee (The Ambassador) an inspiration to young women of 50. –K&M.” Whoever you are, Mizz Dodge, you are loved.
We know you’ve been waiting, but we got the rest of the Spanish quote from Day 1. “Estamos Aqui. Fer y yo, viedo a lo gente loca que sale a correr sin playera con este frio tan mendigo. Esperando a que salga Victor y dandole de comer a munequito en este hermoso lugar. Green Lake.”
A translation, courtesy of SLM: “Here we are. Fer and I, watching the crazy people that come out to run without a shirt in this frigging cold. I’m waiting for Victor to come out and giving my little baby boy a bite to eat in this beautiful place. Green Lake.” Based on this evidence, a mother with her baby boy probably waiting for her man, I would have to say that I slightly misread this yesterday. Her writing recorded the creation of a memory. I don’t think anyone will need to remember that moment for her.
From all things to some things. The Notebook lives here.
Then came our first religious sentiment, in this case, the actual verse John 3:16. I’m including it here, just so you know what it says next time you see the citation on a sign waving in a gameday crowd.
“For God so loved the world, he gave his only son (Jesus) that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.
Amen.
John 3:16.”
But the writer continued, explaining him/herself. Swearing to the sincerity of a Christianity that the writer implicitly recognizes is not a good brand here in Seattle. “You may not believe this now, but I pray that whoever reads this, a seed has been planted in time just as the daffodils behind me have bloomed, so will you. In time, you will know that you are loved. This is my prayer for you.
E.K.
April 4, 2007”
With that, EK became our first dated entry. She might have also been the first person to fix the notebook. As we wrote in the aforementioned entry, The Notebook had been falling apart. It was in pretty bad shape last night. This morning, however, we found that someone out there had righted its prongs. It could be EK, in the spirit of Christian charity. It could have also been a young guy, I can imagine him, more of a tinker than a writer, who wanted to contribute to the effort and soon found his fingers finding the way.
And another poet, perhaps rhyming with a scrawl that was found deep within the notebook’s pages; it just said, “I love you” and then a name which has been lost to the handwriting of its writer. So it stands a monument to incomprehensible love, the best kind for writing about. Oh, we’ve almost forgotten out poet, W.F.
“Dear H.F. (Ethan)
At this moment
Think of you
And, Smile.
[heart] W.F.”
We are hoping that they are married and that their matching Fs are not just coincidence. In any case, we can pretend.
Lastly, we have a confession to make. Someone tucked a pamphlet into the bench, right by The Notebook and we took it back to The House. It was a Christian pamphlet, in the form of a letter to a “Fellow Traveler” on how Aesop reinforces Biblical principles but but that Jesus “did what no spiritual teacher or storyteller could ever do. He intervened in our moral dilemma.” The big moral dilemma, I guess, is the one he is referring to.
My moral dilemma, which Jesus has thus far not intervened in, concerns the ethics of taking the pamphlet from the vicinity of The Notebook. My reasoning was that those trained in the black arts of religious avoidance would see the pamphlet and assume that The Notebook was a Christian ploy, like foodbanks, and not see the work for what it truly is: a secular ploy, a word trap. Still, we probably should have left the pamphlet and let The Notebook get bigger than us.
Night 1
By the evening, as the lake darkened and cooled down, we’d had several more entries. One wondered about his homicidal hound. “My dog is trying to kill every other dog. Arg.”
We also had a lewd but kind of funny poet named Lunchbox who seemed to want to rhyme breezes with treeses and kneeses. Would this be called a slant rhyme? “Heres to the breezes that blows thru the trees, that lifts the skirts above the knees, that tickles the spot that teases and pleases, that makes you say oh Jesus LUNCHBOX.” A fellow traveler, known only as *hazeleyedbeauty* seemed to agree that romantic relations between people are best accomplished when looking. “Love happens when your eyes are open… and get off the phone to talk to her. *hazeleyedbeauty*” I’d be lying if I said I was not pleased that our [eye color] + [favorable pronouncement on appearance] equation is clearly catching on.
Not everyone was in such a heavy mood. One person just wanted to munch some food and hope with hope. “Im here to eat and watch and wish. When I get full and bored and disappointed I’ll go home.” Pobrecita/o. It’s going to be all right. Your day will come.
Last but certainly not least, we had our first non-English entry, which I’m hoping will encourage more. My laptop battery died just as I was putting it down, and the light was fading anyway, but I do know that it began: Estamos aqui. No names, just We Were Here. Which is absolutely the point.
We also had a lewd but kind of funny poet named Lunchbox who seemed to want to rhyme breezes with treeses and kneeses. Would this be called a slant rhyme? “Heres to the breezes that blows thru the trees, that lifts the skirts above the knees, that tickles the spot that teases and pleases, that makes you say oh Jesus LUNCHBOX.” A fellow traveler, known only as *hazeleyedbeauty* seemed to agree that romantic relations between people are best accomplished when looking. “Love happens when your eyes are open… and get off the phone to talk to her. *hazeleyedbeauty*” I’d be lying if I said I was not pleased that our [eye color] + [favorable pronouncement on appearance] equation is clearly catching on.
Not everyone was in such a heavy mood. One person just wanted to munch some food and hope with hope. “Im here to eat and watch and wish. When I get full and bored and disappointed I’ll go home.” Pobrecita/o. It’s going to be all right. Your day will come.
Last but certainly not least, we had our first non-English entry, which I’m hoping will encourage more. My laptop battery died just as I was putting it down, and the light was fading anyway, but I do know that it began: Estamos aqui. No names, just We Were Here. Which is absolutely the point.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Day 1
The idea trap was laid on April 2nd. A yellow, all-weather notebook and a pen attached to a bench by a lake. This is the first piece of writing we snared: “I have an ass ake from riding a hard ass bike with my friend on the back. I suck dick.” It was written in pencil a mere four hours after launch. A victory but also indicating that my $6 Fisher Pen, which is used by astronauts and can write under water or at 300 degrees, had been stolen. Laughing but a little sad (for what it said about people!), I walked the hill up to my house and brought back a cheap bic.
The morning yielded up to us the following confession of love:“I sit and wait for my sweety, having just run around with another brown eyed handsome man. We shared about our relationships and what each of is experiencing.” Then, a handwriting change, girlier? A rejoinder. “His sweetie has arrived. Girl loves the brown eyed boy more than she thought she could love anyone. : )”
By noon, more lovers, in a lyrical mood, awaited us on the next page. Formatting intact:
Empires crumble…
but Daffodils
still bloom.
Ah spring is here on
a blue sky, yellow
daffodil day.
Teresa and IRV
Irv is surrounded by a heart drawn in two strokes both originating at the center and radiating out, then down. At least that is my guess.
There is also a drawing on one of the pages which is a wobbly oval outline with a lot of blue pen scratches filling it. One imagines that it is a sketch of the lake, although for some reason I expected that it would be a sexual organ. I do not have enough faith in people.
An operational note: people do not seem to be flipping through and writing but rather just going to the 1st open page from the front. But then again, it was too windycold the last time I was out to check through each and every prompt.
There were ducks in the grass by the bench. Which means they shit all over our frisbee field.
The morning yielded up to us the following confession of love:“I sit and wait for my sweety, having just run around with another brown eyed handsome man. We shared about our relationships and what each of is experiencing.” Then, a handwriting change, girlier? A rejoinder. “His sweetie has arrived. Girl loves the brown eyed boy more than she thought she could love anyone. : )”
By noon, more lovers, in a lyrical mood, awaited us on the next page. Formatting intact:
Empires crumble…
but Daffodils
still bloom.
Ah spring is here on
a blue sky, yellow
daffodil day.
Teresa and IRV
Irv is surrounded by a heart drawn in two strokes both originating at the center and radiating out, then down. At least that is my guess.
There is also a drawing on one of the pages which is a wobbly oval outline with a lot of blue pen scratches filling it. One imagines that it is a sketch of the lake, although for some reason I expected that it would be a sexual organ. I do not have enough faith in people.
An operational note: people do not seem to be flipping through and writing but rather just going to the 1st open page from the front. But then again, it was too windycold the last time I was out to check through each and every prompt.
There were ducks in the grass by the bench. Which means they shit all over our frisbee field.
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