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Partly because of health insurance and partly because I’m dying to be home again, I must return to NYC by the end of May. Where exactly I’ll live will be decided in the next month and a half, but it will definitely be in Manhattan, the only part of New York that’s home to me. I’m more excited than I could possibly express. I’M GOING HOME!

I’ve been more than a little distracted lately with 1000 things, so I haven’t been concentrating too much on Adam’s World. Haven’t been reading much either. All that is about to change, big time.

*Perfume*

Pop and I made my first perfume by weight. It was a highly illuminating experience. With the by-weight method making larger quantities becomes very easy. Instead of 3000 drops or 50 teaspoons (impossible to do cleanly) your recipe calls for 150 grams; simple as pie. We made only a small batch; I’ll do two more small batches by weight, just to see how different recipes line up, then I’ll get to making larger quantities. I already have a rough idea that one drop equals .05 grams, though base notes are heavier than heart notes which are heavier than top notes (generally speaking). I’m well on the road to being a pro now; there’s no stopping me.

*Index*

Adam’s Index:

Number of synthetic fragrance chemicals it takes to replicate natural jasmine: it cannot be so replicated

Number of drops of a misplaced extract it can take to ruin a small batch of natural perfume: One

Number of good professional natural perfumers I know of: a handful

Degree to which there is doubt in the main that one can actually make perfume with only natural botanical materials: inestimable

Number of years the art of perfumery was all natural: literally thousands

Number of years since I was a hippie: more than 15

Degree to which I still feel like a hippie: incalculable

My favorite hippie: Berger from Hair

Why I became disenchanted with hippies: in the end they’re no different than the rest of us

What I want to be now, in addition to a perfumer: a theologian and a monk, minus the celibacy and vow of poverty (actually this makes perfect sense: shamans and priests were the original perfumers)

*Poem*

We Smoke Everything

When I was a boy
there was a little shack
across the road where
I used to get sausage sandwiches.
My brother, who is my elder by
eight years, and who was
already well into his
taste-what-life-is-like
phase, particularly enjoyed
Skipper’s motto,
“We smoke everything.”
Years later that little shack
has become a hot nightspot.
I was there the other day for
Grateful-Dead cover-band night.
As I sat listening to
the insipid music, drinking
the equally average beer,
I was bathed in recollections
of my boyhood Skipper’s,
the dirt-road shack it used
to be. All around me were cute
young hippie girls; I thought
about how many years
it had been since I myself
was a long-haired hippie.
A breeze blew and the air
was dense, thick, rich
in its inimitable Florida way.
I looked up at the motto
but instead of smelling
smokehouse smells all I could
make out was caustic mainstream
perfume with a faint tinge
of reefer. The world reinvents
itself while we watch. The more
we try to change
the more we remain the same;
the more we try to keep
the world still, the more
dramatically it shifts beneath us.
Maybe it’s what we do
that never changes;
different as she is now,
at Skipper’s
they still smoke everything.

*Quotations*

Our love is all of God’s money.
–Wilco

Everything I did in my life that was worthwhile I caught hell for.
–Chief Justice Earl Warren

Even a mistake may turn out to be the one thing necessary to a worthwhile achievement.
–Henry Ford

One of the greatest reasons people cannot mobilize themselves is that they try to accomplish great things. Most worthwhile achievements are the result of many little things done in a single direction.
–Nido Qubein

It is not worthwhile to try to keep history from repeating itself, for man’s character will always make the preventing of the repetitions impossible.
–Mark Twain

Love doesn’t make the world go ’round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile.
–Franklin P Jones

Unless a life is lived for others, it is not worthwhile.
–Mother Theresa

All is worthwhile if the soul is not small.
–Fernando Pessoa

My lover asks me:
“What is the difference between me and the sky?”
The difference, my love,
Is that when you laugh,
I forget about the sky.
–Nizar Qabbani

I also believe that writing becomes worthwhile and vitalized only through a full and exciting life.
–Esther Forbes

*China*

Not long after I moved to Taiwan I moved to a small town on the east coast called Hualien, which is a pretty name in Chinese, reminding one of lotus flowers. The town was prettier than its name, wedged between the mountains and the open Pacific. I only survived because by then I could already speak Chinese fairly well (I’m a quick study, especially with languages, especially when it’s a matter of survival). At the time there was only maybe a dozen foreigners in town; we quickly found each other passing in the street or at the outdoor markets. I was slow on the uptake but eventually befriended the other white people; I preferred to spend time with my Chinese friends, giving me a constant immersion in the language, by way of which I became conversationally fluent in no time.

By and large the white folks in Halien were decent folks. Just my luck, I did run into one bad seed. He was a fat drunk, to put it bluntly. He was known universally as Pang-dz, or the fat one; I never knew of a real name for him. I don’t know how I met him but he lived in a nice Japanese-style house, wall-to-wall tatami mats, sliding wooden doors all around, nice; this was one of the houses originally built for miners in the nearby Taroko Gorge, during the 50 years the Japanese occupied Taiwan (one never knew exactly what to expect, on the phone, at the post office; a person was equally as likely to speak Mandarin as Japanese as Taiwanese and on and on). Eventually Pang-dz convinced me to take the place over from him; it was a real bargain and was to be my own first house.

Pang-dz came over a couple of times before he left town, which he did quickly. Whenever he came over, the next day I found empty beer cans stashed in every corner of the house. And it turned out his offer was too good to be true: he told me he had arranged everything with the landlord for me to take over; I was rudely awakened one morning by an angry landlord demanding to know where Pang-dz was and why he hadn’t moved out yet. I had no permission to live there; I guess some developer wanted to tear these old places down and put in condos (the money grubbers thrive everywhere). The landlord liked me and agreed to let me stay for a few more months. I learned my lesson the hard way: if an overweight alcoholic promises you something too good to be true you can bet it really is.

*Quiz*

This week I took a quiz on Facebook which determines which Philosopher one is most like. Gave me a tickle:

“You’re one smart pupil! Most of what you think is what your favorite mentor thought. Maybe. There aren’t many answers in your mind. Lots and lots of questions. You may or may not deny material reality, but you certainly hold to the existence of immaterial realities: IDEAS! They may or may not exist independently of concrete manifestations. And that might or might not have bearing on your idea about the possibility of God. At any rate, you feel religion is necessary to keep the youths in check. Lavish liturgies and theatrical productions for them! They’ll all chuck you when you return to the cave anyway.”

*Prostitution*

From the BBC, regarding the legality of prostitution in New Zealand:

“Since the Prostitution Reform Act of 2003, brothels have been allowed to operate more or less freely. Sex workers have the same rights as everyone else. In the eyes of New Zealand’s law, the oldest profession is just like any other. This policy stands in marked contrast to Europe. In 1999 Sweden criminalised the purchase of sex services, and several countries are introducing similar laws in an attempt to combat trafficking.

“Ask New Zealand sex workers what they think of Swedish-style strictures, and the response is overwhelmingly negative. “Whether you’re prosecuting the men or the girls, you’re still prosecuting the business,” says “Lucy”, 23, from Wellington. Lucy works in Bon Ton, an exclusive establishment in the capital where an hour-long session costs NZ$400 (£140; $200). She says the reform has given her the opportunity to work for a legitimate business in a safe environment. “I make twice what I was earning in retail. I am appreciated by customers and my boss. I can work whenever I want to–it’s by far the most gratifying work I’ve ever had,” she says.

“Lucy’s manager, Sarah, also believes criminalising clients would be a disaster for the industry and put the girls at risk. “This would scare away the quality customers,” she says. “We would be left with the dangerous sort. The nasty men won’t go away.” Bon Ton–which thrives on “quality customers” like lawyers and civil servants–certainly looks like an ideal showcase for New Zealand-style liberalisation. The bedrooms look like luxury suites, the upstairs office looks like, well, an office, and the workers say they are treated with respect.

“Sarah insists she has zero tolerance for abuse and will back the girls even if they refuse a client. “I can’t force a woman to have sex,” she says. As she speaks another girl appears at the door, draped in a towel. “Myah” looks at the work ahead, and realises that a client who often insists on having oral sex without a condom wants to see her. “I don’t want him,” Myah says. “No problem,” Sarah replies. “I’ll tell him you’re not available.” Myah is not afraid to turn down work. Her health is at stake, and the law requires a condom for any commercial sex act. “It is my legal right to make that demand,” she says. But are the benefits from legalisation confined to high-end businesses like Bon Ton?

“According to Catherine Healy of the New Zealand Prostitutes Collective (NZPC), better and safer working practices are now the norm. Across the industry, she says, women are now aware of their rights and exploitative brothel owners are becoming marginalised as a result of the reform. “Sex workers say: I can work across town,” she says. “The dynamic has altered.” Anna Reed, who was a sex worker in Christchurch for 23 years and is now NZPC’s local spokesperson, agrees that exploitative practices have become rare. “Owners used to demand huge fines for being late. They used to hire and fire workers without reason.” But now, she says, “girls feel more able to stand up for themselves”.

“Another key benefit of decriminalisation, according to Ms Healy, is a sea change in relations with the police: “If you’re the one committing a crime, you won’t ask the police for help.” Now, Ms Healy says, the girls find law enforcement officials are on their side. This idea was borne out by a parliamentary report last year, which gave a positive assessment of the reform. It said prostitutes were more likely to report violence to police, and officers were treating their complaints seriously….

“Brothels may be legal but most New Zealanders prefer not to live next to one. Bon Ton never mentions an address in its adverts – only a phone number. In Christchurch operators had to fight a proposed zoning law that would have kept them out of most areas. But the overwhelming majority in the business feels huge progress was made when the industry emerged from the shadow. Anna Reed says she loved working as a prostitute–”I had sex, money and men!”–and resents enduring cliches about a job no-one in her right mind could willingly embrace. “We get so pissed off when politicians portray us as victims,” she says. “It’s important to blow down the stereotypes about sex workers–particularly that of the poor girl who is coerced into doing it.”"

*Music*

“A man walks down the street, he says, “Why am I soft in the middle now, why am I soft in the middle, the rest of my life is so hard?”
–Paul Simon

Graceland remains an all-time classic, combining the best pop sensibilities with truly sublime African singing and other music.

Jeffrey Foucault’s latest Shoot the Moon Right between the Eyes, which features the music of John Prine, is a great listen. Storm Windows, for example, is a track that will stop you dead in your tracks. This is in-the-pocket folk/alt-country which I’m only too pleased to have in my collection. Don’t miss it. Anything with JF’s name on it is guaranteed to be great or your money back.

Martin Sexton has a track on Live at the Artist’s Den Vol 1 called There but for the Grace of God. This rendition is stellar, with Mr Sexton effortlessly impressing on the listener his vocal and guitar prowess. I posted this track on Facebook; a friend listened to it and wrote me, “Sweeeeet!” I love this guy but he does have a wild hair up his ass; his latest record Solo is full of odd renditions of great tunes. Clearly this is a man bored to death with playing solo shows every night; he’ll need to find some new projects and cohorts.

Top ten random tracks:

12. The Trouble with Poets, Peter Mulvey
11. Everybody Wants to be a Cat, Psapp
10. November, Dave Douglas
9. Bojangles (JJ Walker), David Bromberg
8. Shining Star, Chaka Khan
7. Storm Windows (Prine). Jeffrey Foucault
6. Not a Robot but a Ghost, Andrew Bird
5. Nothing Really Matters, Bonnie Raitt
4. My Treasure (Sinne Eeg), Sinne Eeg
3. There but for the Grace of God (live, Artist’s Den), Martin Sexton
2. An Ocean and a Rock, Lisa Hannigan
1. Come On Come Out (live), A Fine Frenzy

Peace, love, and ATOM jazz