Sunday, June 04, 2006

Synchronicity sucks.

Spalding swimming
Stumbled across the Tom Green blog/weblog today. He's not the greatest pure writer I've ever read, but he's gone through some wierd stuff recently. Turns out, he nearly drowned in the ocean (in Central America) a couple of months ago. I mean, seriously, almost drowned. First, he nearly got swept out to sea by a rip tide. The next day (to relax) he perched himself on a rock to go fishing. A big swell came along and swept him into a huge volanic rock, broke his ribs, smashed him up pretty bad. Worse than he realises, I think. In his blog, the next entries for the next month keep saying the same thing: "I nearly died, I nearly died." It's odd to read from a distance, the almost obsessional quality of it. (Note: the photo to the left is of Spald, not Tom)

I'd like to write him back, tell him to read "Swimming to Cambodia", or at least tell him to listen to the last few minutes of the video (since he seems to watch more than he reads). But he writes that he gets hundreds of e-mails a day (which is possible, considering that he is, well, Tom Green, for better or worse). And he doesn't seem like the type of guy that would appreciate the subtleies of Spalding Gray. But, I sure would like to know what he would think of Spalding's story. I'm mean seriously, what are the fucking chances that I would read a story like this, today.

Or, could it be that I'm just really upset that I'm not in NYC right now, at PS122 listening to David Straithairn read unreleased writings of Spalding's. Yeah, sure, that's probably it. Given my propensity to make connections where there are none, that must be it.






Tomorrow is Spalding's birthday. He would have been 65. Wish he was around to see how much we all miss him. Maybe somewhere, somehow, he knows that.