Johnny America


The Souls, The Bodies


The souls, the bod­ies and the ways of be­ing I’ve loved the most have not gen­er­al­ly been hu­man. Salvia, Sol and Duke the grey cat. Jacaran­da, Eu­phor­bia. Prairie dogs. Ruth and Suzy and the Bomb. The weather.

I am try­ing hard­er to love every­thing, to think bet­ter thoughts, thanks to the noos­phere. In a cos­mic re­sponse to my res­ur­rect­ed dis­ci­pline of love, my old friend Ed emails from Los Angeles:

“I’ve bought a for­tune cook­ie fac­to­ry, a small one.”

Ed and I worked to­geth­er in many kitchens dur­ing the L.A. culi­nary hy­per-leap in the mid 1980s. Af­ter a while, we were tele­path­ic. Af­ter work, dirty and smelly, we’d hang out at Jo­hh­ny’s on 8th Street down­town, a re­al dump but just right, and talk about things we’d like to do with food.

One of our brain­storms was mis­for­tune cook­ies. Well, Ed did well and made mon­ey and re­cent­ly took own­er­ship of a small for­tune cook­ie fac­to­ry as part of the buy-out of a Chi­nese su­per­mar­ket chain. Fun­ny thing is, for­tune cook­ies aren’t Chinese.

For­tune cook­ies come from Japan. Look it the fuck up.

Ed knew I was now a great writer.

“I need 5,000 mis­for­tunes as­ap. You get (a great deal) and a case of 1,000 mis­for­tune cookies.”

Our orig­i­nal plan, in the Johnny’s days, was to some­how sneak out­ra­geous, of­fen­sive and sedi­tious for­tunes in­to Chi­nese restau­rant cook­ies. We al­so had a great plan for rab­bit terrine.

So here I am, ded­i­cat­ed to think­ing good thoughts, and charged with think­ing up mis­for­tunes. First thing, get a jug of Old Smuggler.

Filed under Commentary on January 27th, 2008

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