Koh Samui Journal 1993

July 1993
Full moon on Koh Samui
Rising from the black sea
Lightning flashing
Inside monsoon thunderheads
40,000 feet overhead

Sitting in a beer bar
On Chaweng Beach
Aoy
Sweet
Said she’s 20
From Isaan
North
“Mother not know
I work bar.
I like you.
I go with you.”

Her skin
Buttered silk
Smelling of Jasmine
Like a flower on the night air.

Aoy says number
“This not love
This is work.” “Go with me.
Help me.
Help family”
How can I say no?”
“Okay, let’s go.”

On my motosai
3 km to my crib
A bungalow
Overlooking the pla-muk boats
On the Gulf of Siam

On the curves
To Coral Cove
low down to 60
Aoy holds tight
Arms around my waist
Lightning flashing overhead
The moon running with the clouds
And me with the wind
With Aoy
Through the night
To Coral Cove.

July 11, 1993 Penang Journal.

Penang

Hot

“Go with God.”

My departing words to Gulie at Penang Airport. She’s heading back to New York, but she’ll have to deal with her separation from Giancarlo, her husband my friend. Her entire stay was under the black clouds of her future. If she expects people to take sides, they will, but she left here angry with my imagined betrayal and abandoning her while sick on Langawi Island.

Standing between two people without choosing a side is never a winning strategy a good idea. I’ll come out of it looking like a cad ,but I never see any of her friends socially, except for Diane Brill and Maurizio. Anyway I’m in the shits.

Rob hasn’t called from London. I ask Danny the hotel twice a day, if my friend left a message. Nothing. $150 short of a return ticket out of Kuala Lumpur. I didn’t even dare to ask Julie for money.

The room at the Swiss Hotel has a noisy the fan, the bad uncomfortable, the walls dirty, and rat shitted floors. I just saw another rat. The overnight neon lighting comes like a diesel.I’m sweating and haven’t had the drink in three days. Oh yeah, I have been playing basketball down at Fort Cornwallis in the midday Sun with Filipino sailors. They are really fast.

Stranded. It could be worse Breakfast at this hotel is good. Food here is cheap, especially at corner Halal Nasi Kandar restaurant on Julia Street. A lovely sweet iced tea and curry.

Mad Dogs And Farangs in the Sun

Last week I met Jamie Parker on Soi Chaiyapoon. I hadn’t seen him in ages. He looked ten years younger and said, “Botox. Only cost 5000 baht.”

No wrinkles around his eyes and those furrows in his forehead had been smoothed out like 5-star hotel sheets. I was a little jealous. “So now you’re ready for a gigolo position on Palm Beach.”

“Not the right season.” He grabbed my arm. “Damn, it’s hot.”

“Lorn mak.” Pattaya for the last week has been baked by the seasonal heat wave. “I think it’s hotter than last year.”

“Me too, but check out that fat Teabag across the street.”

“He seems fine with it.” The Brit was about 55. Tattooed like a druid, 5-5 and weighing about 14 ton which is a XXXXL in the USA. bare-headed and no shirt. Skin burnt to a tender red. I was wearing a full-length shirt and a cowboy hat. Long pants too. Standing in the shade we ordered two beers from the PIM bar.

“Yeah, mad dogs and Englishmen. Only ones that can take this heat.

“You know this isn’t really hot.”

“up in Isaan it gets hotter.”

“Cambodia is a frying pan this time of year.” My friend Nick and I had spent Songkran 2007 in Phnom Penh. Both of us would have suffered from water depletion if it wasn’t for a steady replenishing our liquids with Khang beer. (7-11% alcohol).

“What about the East Village in July?”

“Worst is Needles, California in August. I got off a bus there and smacked by a wall of heat. The thermometer inside the Dairy Queen said 135. didn’t have any money and had to hitchhike out of there. Old couple heading to Lake Havesu saved my life.” I can remember a cold glass of lemonade. The old man wasn’t scared of madmen on the highway because his wife had a gun. A Colt 45.

“What year was that?”

“1974.”

“You were a hippie then, right?”

“I had long hair.” At least I listened to the Jefferson Airplane and Iggy Pop, instead of the Dead.

“Here come some more mad Englishmen.”

A trio of skinhead beer-drinkers on motor scooters. Sometimes Pattaya seems like the Millwall hooligans have a training center on Soi Bukhao. especially after my Boxing Day 2006 beating by King Kong.

(Who seems have gone back to his cro-magnon existence in the UK. Small miracle)

“They all early melanoma cases.” I use sun block 50 on my face, which vanished the black circles under my eyes. “Madmen. I was stranded in Penang once and wandered into the old English graveyard crammed with Brits struck down by the heat.”

“No one sane should be out in the heat this time of day.” I was melting like the Wicked Witch of the West.

“What about us?” Jamie was no hypocrite.

“Let’s go up to Maggie’s for a cold one.”

Jamie was primed for a pint. Me too.

We were only a little bah or crazed by the sun. Back in the 70s hippies went to the California Welfare Bureau to get certified as mad to get checks from the state. I don’t think Cally offers that service anymore, but if the State does, then you could take advantage of the list sent by Michelle from New York’s famed Gotham Bookstore (Wise men fish here).

20 Ways to Maintain a Healthy Level of Insanity

1. At Lunch Time, Sit in Your Parked Car with Sunglasses on and point a Hair Dryer at Passing Cars. See If They Slow Down.

2. Page Yourself Over The Intercom. Don’t Disguise Your Voice.

3. Every Time Someone Asks You to Do Something, ask If They Want Fries with that.

4. Put Your Garbage Can on Your Desk and Label it “In”.

5. Put Decaf In The Coffee Maker For 3 Weeks. Once everyone has gotten Over Their Caffeine Addictions, Switch to Espresso.

6. In The Memo Field Of All Your Checks, Write “For Smuggling Drugs”.

7. Finish All Your sentences with “In Accordance With The Prophecy”.

8. Don’t use any punctuation.

9. As Often As Possible, Skip Rather Than Walk.

10. Order a Diet Water whenever you go out to eat, with a serious face.

11. Specify That Your Drive-through Order Is “To Go”.

12. Sing Along At The Opera.

13. Go To A Poetry Recital. And Ask Why The Poems Don’t Rhyme?

14. Put Mosquito Netting Around Your Work Area, Play tropical Sounds All Day.

15. Five Days In Advance, Tell Your Friends You Can’t Attend Their Party, Because You’re Not In The Mood.

16. Have Your Co-workers Address You by Your Wrestling Name, Rock Bottom.

17. When The Money Comes Out The ATM, Scream “I Won! I Won!”

18. When Leaving the Zoo, Start Running towards the Parking lot, Yelling “Run For Your Lives! They’re Loose!”

19. Tell Your Children Over Dinner, “Due To The Economy, We Are Going To Have To Let One Of You Go.”

20. And The Final Way To Keep A Healthy Level Of Insanity …

Text this To someone To make them Smile.

It’s Called… therapy!

I got a little smile from this, then again I’m a simple man and sometimes a little ting tong or mad.
ps The saying “Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun” is thought to have originated with Rudyard Kipling.

Over The Burma Border

2002
West of Mai Sai
A dirt road on a mountain ridge
Straddling the border
Between Thailand and Burma
The Golden Triangle
Hot
Dry
Dusty
Route 1149
Turn right
Out of Thailand
Into Burma
An illegal entry
On a 250cc ATX Honda.
An old man
Walking
I give him a ride
For safety
Passing guard towers
Young men with AK47
Seeing the old man
They wave.
Stop at a village
Surrounded by eternal opium fields.
Children gawk at the falang
An old white man in black
Two men with AK47s.
Watch From a bar.
Thinking DEA.
Dead beers on the table
Two beers buy a smile.
Beer almost cold.
The old man clink glass.
A toast Chai yo.
Drink

Ahead to the west
Rows of dragon backed ridges
Offering to satisfy
The urge to go
To ride through Burma
To Victoria’s Peak.
Then the Himalayas
Tibet
Nepal
India
All the way to Paris.

Finish the beer
Get on the motosai
A full tank
Cash in my pocket
Time on my hands.
Rev the engine.
Do not shift into first.

Behind me
Back in Mai Sai
A room on the river.
None of my possessions
Worth anything
There.

Here a bike, a passport, money, and the clothes on my back.

Back in Mai Sai
Aphinya
A friend
If I go
She will wonder where I went
Kwam-luklab
A mystery.
I have said
The L word
Chan lak ter
I love you
To Aphinya.

The 250 says
Go
The mountains say
Come.
The Lao kids look at me
Laugh.
“Nawh.”
Thai for fool
Ching Ching
The truth.

I turn around
Mai Sai bound
To Aphinya
In the bungalow
By the river
Away from Burma
The Himalayas
Paris.
That road will be there
Forever
Always there
For another day
Some time.

Swimming In The Seine 1985

In the summer of 1985 I rode my Vespa 150 east from Paris along the Seine until reaching a strand of strand past Melun. The temperature was warm and I waded into the river. It smelled of algae, but I plunged into the waters. Not pleasant, but not unpleasant, then again as a child in the early 1960s we swam off the sewer ducts off Wollaston Beach. Warm. We didn’t know any better as hadn’t an Amerlot swimming in the Seine.

Of course our prime swimming hole in Paris was the Piscine Deligny. The floating pool was moored on the Rive Gauche. Paris’ only outdoor piscine or at least the only one I knew. A favorite of the young and old alike.

According to parisisinvisible.blogspot.com/ at the beginning of the 1970s, one French politician, Emmanuel Hamel, wrote a letter to the Minister of the Interior complaining about topless sunbathing at the pool. His particular concern about that? The French parliament, the Assemblée nationale overlooked the pool, and it was ‘offputting’!

Tant pis.

Foto Helmut Newton 1976