Carol Lynley

            On Saturday I updated my journal.

            I popped out to the liquor store in the evening to buy a couple of cans of Creemore. On the way back I saw Wayne, the guy who’s always putting on a crazy show of spontaneous antics in the food bank line up. He was standing on the north side of Queen in front of the walk-in clinic. Suddenly he started running across Queen toward the centre of the top of Dunn Avenue as the cars from that one-way street were turning right and left onto Queen. He ran like a quarterback, making sudden but slight lunges sideways to the right or left as he went, except that he wasn’t dodging cars but rather faking movements toward them. He didn’t actually put himself directly in front of any cars but it must have been annoying for the drivers to see him acting like he was about to do so. When he got to the southeast corner a woman that had been waiting for the walk signal chastised him for getting in the way of traffic. She was swearing at him by the time they got to the southwest side and Wayne walked down Dunn.

            I wrote down a few ideas for my essay:

            The “angelheaded hipsters” that Ginsberg refers to are probably men just as all named “Mohammedan angels” are represented as male. The most personality that any woman is given in Howl is to be described as “gaunt”.

            I finished formatting the document of Pat Parker’s poetry. I don’t think it’s great writing but she does tell it like it is.

            The wifi went off in the evening and stayed off for a few hours, so I couldn’t post my blog until around 22:30. It’s always on overnight so I don’t think they are shutting it off, otherwise why not shut it off all night? I suspect that it isn’t actually turned off but that the evening is a peek period of customer use downstairs in the donut shop and so I just get crowded out.

            I watched an episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour starring the very pretty Carol Lynley as a novice nun that is having doubts. One of the older sisters is bedridden and she’s just heard from a man she used to teach when he was a troubled boy. He is rich now and has asked her to visit him in Chicago but she is too sick to go and so she asks young Sister Penelope to go in her place. She meets the rich man who gives her a priceless statue of St Francis to take back to the convent. She is carrying the statue in a small, narrow suitcase, but a fast talking young man tricks her into letting him carry it for her and then runs off with it. After notifying the police, Sister Penelope sees the young man in a police line up. Jimmy tells the cops he works at Gramarcy Appliance Company. She says she’s not sure if it’s him and goes back to the convent where she immediately tells the mother superior that she is leaving. We next see her in Chicago applying for a job at the Gramarcy Appliance Company and she gets the job. On her first lunch break she is eating a sandwich outside when she is approached by the same man that took the suitcase. He doesn’t recognize her without her nun’s habit and invites her to a party that night where she discovers the pawn ticket for the suitcase. She goes to the pawnshop and asks specifically for a religious statue. The statue of St Francis is there but the owner is suspicious that she’s a cop because she seemed to already know they had the statue there. He calls Jimmy and when he arrives he recognizes Penelope as the nun that he’d ripped off. They decide that the statue must be worth a fortune and so they keep Penelope there and call an expert named George. George turns out to be the man that gave Sister Penelope the statue in the first place but he pretends he doesn’t know her. He also pretends that the statue is worthless, pays them $20 for it and gives it to Penelope. She takes it back to the convent where she decides to stay. This story was a little too religious for me.