-
Schools (Other):
Penn (undergrad), Michigan (Ford School of Public Policy)
-
Occupation:
government
-
Favorite Books:
Infinite Jest, Being Dead, Cloud Atlas, The Accidental, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, Other Voices, Other Rooms, A Good Man is Hard to Find, When the World was Steady, At Swim, Two Boys, The Yiddish Policemen's Union, Madame Bovary, The Big Sleep
-
Zodiac Sign:
Capricorn
|
 |
How you're connected:
| You |
 |
John is in your extended network |
 |
John |
Featured Sponsor
See results for John Fisher
|
There was a red umbrella.
There was excitement. And anticipation.
Then there was a sign.
And dashed hopes.
Fire in the forest.
Rain in the sky.
And a field of sewage.
We never lost hope.
And there were other concerts.
Don't forget to play pearlly.
(Oh... The cleverness of me...)
beloved television personality. The
first time I saw him, I thought, "Holy
crap...It's Shaggy from Scooby Doo."
He was even wearing khaki pants and a
green shirt. The resemblance was
uncanny.
Kentucky. Who knew you would end up
being a New Yorker all along, you
grouchy, whiny, misanthropic, son-of-a-
bitch! BTW, when someone says "hello"
to you on the street, the correct
response is "hello," not "get the hell
out of my way."
years ago in the Cinque Terre. We
wandered aimlessly for an entire summer
through dusty olive groves and
languished in the midday Mediterranean
heat while the sounds of an
improvisational Perugian jazz quartet
threaded their way between our yearning
bodies. I remember bickering at each
other like school children over
senseless American politics and Chianti
vintages. One day, a wayward German
tourist interrupted him to inquire
about highway directions back to the
Riviera, and John promptly turned and
spat in his big, flat face, telling him
to "go fuck himself in his austere
northern Romanian. One early morning,
he proposed we swim naked in a secluded
cove just south of Monterosso. As I
slipped into the water, I detected his
torrid gaze. His eyes, blistering my
skin with the ferocity of his desire,
sent my heart ricocheting against my
chest where it rent my insides like the
bullet of a discharged Kalashnikov. I
was sure then that by August he would
ask me to be his bride; he would take
me to where he was stationed inside the
USSR and that we could liver forever in
the eternal throes of our own secret
ecstasy. He disappeared one day...I
searched for him in every Italian Villa
along both the Mediterranean and
Adriatic coasts. If you can hear me,
John, I hate you for the mark you left
on me...you fucking Communist, self-
indulgent, loveless SHIT!