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Rod & KubbyKat Too:
Photo by Bob Gentry 4/26/2000
A Thought for Today
Love is the answer. Now then, what was the question?
Today's E-mail is as varied as one mans mail can get. Give a look.
FINDING MY BROTHER
Dear Mr. McKuen, I wrote you sometime back in April, as April is my birth month and I'm an April person, about finding my brother that my sweet mother had adopted out when she was just a young girl. Well we all met subsequently, but what a strange sequence of events followed. I'm even having a hard time keeping up with them.
Three weeks after her return from Georgia to meet her son for the first time in 47 years she developed lung, brain and liver cancer. Mom passed away in October, truly the saddest
day of my life. On top of it my brother that I had never met fell in love with me (we fell in love with each other.) That certainly created lines to be drawn. He told my mother of his feelings for me before she died and he told his wife, and his children, along with my other siblings and my children.
I am truly fortunate that I was able to make amends with my mother and come to take care of her in her final days. We became really close and put our differences aside. I haven't spoken to my brother since June and don't suppose I ever will
again as I don't think his wife was too keen on the idea. through all of this I have remembered one thing it doesn't matter who you love or how you love, but that you love.
Sadly, Michelle
Dear Michelle, Wow. I've seen the quote of mine from "Creed" "It doesn't matter who you love or how you love, but that you love" used in many contexts, but this is a new one. Don't feel sad or carry recriminations about anything you've done or experienced. It's done, you lived through it and you can be better for it only if you learn from it.
I hope I don't need to advise you that as long as your new found brother feels the way he does about you, the more distance there is between you, the better.
Nobody's life has been ruined or bent out of shape completely because your family knows how you and your brother feel about each other. They'll get over it, but the most important thing is that you put any romantic feelings you have for your sibling behind you and that you get over it. Forget it. It happened. Just don't let anything like it
happen again.
You have permission to ruin your own life, to do with it what you want, for better or worse. That covenant does not extend to those around you.
If I seem a bit harsh, I mean to. You sound like a decent human being, don't lose that sense of decency. Incest is an ugly word and if you haven't seen you and your brother's relationship for what it could turn into, I urge you to print that nasty word in large letters and post it in strategic points around the house where you can't fail to notice it.
Walk away from this one. Sincerely, Rod
A REBEL WRITES
Dear Rod McKuen, What a thrill to discover your website! And to have such an opportunity to communicate with you!
I have to say I first became aware of you though, we come from different time periods. I was born in 1965. In high school, growing up in a tiny town in Virginia, I was a rebellious
outcast, during the 'new wave' early 80's. I was the first, male, person to pierce my ear, dye my hair, etc. I was always interested in literature, music, film. In my town, there was one used bookstore. ( New bookstores were at least half an hour away by car.) So, I loved used books, used clothing, and thrift..
Anyhow, I got into poetry through Shelley and Plath ( how is that for a difference?) And kept running into these colorful, photo filled anthologies of someone named Rod McKuen. The photography was very late 1960's, 1970's,.soft, atmospheric.
The poetry was simple to read, yet had a lot of hidden messages if you read between the lines.
Then, I would see the records of yours at the used record store. Rod McKuen, 'In a lonely place" "Love and Loneliness" SO MUCH
LONELINESS!!! "Why is Rod so lonely?" I asked myself.
And, he seems to have made a career out of it. I came to realize loneliness was a position of yours, as much as your low top converse sneakers.
I read "Finding My Father." and felt more affinity. My father died when I was 6 years old and we were living in Thailand. ( From
Thailand to a little town in Virginia!) And I always felt like my dad was a mystery, like a myth. I loved that book of yours.
I decided, I just love Rod McKuen.
None of my friends, even writers, could understand my feelings for Rod McKuen. (After all we are another generation) Looking back now, I see old magazines where you were battling Anita Bryant about Gay Rights, long before that was the thing to do. That was amazingly brave and I respect that a lot. Recently I was visiting Dollywood in Tennesee, and saw that Anita Bryant has a dinner/ nightclub outside of there. Scary!
Anyhow, so I collect your poetry anthologies, here in New York City (where I live now) mostly from "The Strand" I have been lucky enough to have found some of them that are autographed! It is a thrill every time I find a new one, or a new
paperback volume, or a new record. I adore poetry and have done a reading here in the east village. It was a great thrill and was well received.
I will respect your law of not reading other's works. I have written a novel (un-published) too called "Spent Youth" about a
teenage runaway in Washington D. C who becomes a prostitute. The best poem I ever wrote was an 'epic poem' that had 3 different, distinct voices: Husband, Slut, Virgin. Didn't you publish a small volume of poetry before "Stanyan Street"?
What was that called? And what are the chances of ever finding it?
My dream is to one day run into Rod McKuen on the street and to have coffee 'In a lonely place" I wish you all the best in the future. If you have any words on writers' block, (which it seems you never ran into) please pass them along. This is all with the best intentions and to let you know that you have admirers, still, and into new generations. Sebastian Dureaux Russell
Dear Sebastian. In what little schooling I had I was considered a rebel too, though fortunately pierced ears and dyed hair weren't an option back in those days:
please, I had to fend off bullies enough because I was a loner and perceived as being different and that was enough to be a convenient target. I guess some kids get over all that, I never did. To this day I hate the way some children treat others.
I never consciously thought of my aloneness as an industry, though obviously other people did and I guess like it or not for a while it became one. I was what I was, am what I am and am not afraid to openly vent my feelings. It does seem to touch a chord in others so I guess there's a bit of the odd ball in all of us. Nice to know we're not alone.
What I say between the lines is always more important and wiser than what makes the printed page. You've obviously learned the true way of reading a poem. In poetry, unlike most prose, what is implicit is only the gateway. To enter a poem you have to read around, over, under and through it. Of course it should be capable of standing on its own the way it's written, but a good poem should offer new interpretations and ideas with each additional reading.
It would be nice if that 'lonely place' one day happened, so I'll trust you to keep the coffee percolating.
As for that whole Anita Bryant thing, I hate intolerance toward anyone and I felt I had to get into the fight. No matter how many fans it cost me, it was still worth taking her on. Besides any audience I might have lost by standing up for equal treatment for all of my brothers and sisters weren't worth keeping anyway.
You only get to go around once and if you're not willing to risk whatever celebrity you might achieve in the cause of justice what is there worth celebrating?
To write jokes for Johnny Carson's nightly monologue for awhile (and watch them being used) and tour the talk shows selling human rights for a change instead of my latest book or album was a very nice trip.
The early book you speak about is " . . . and autumn came." The original is pretty hard to come by, but it was reprinted in a totally different edition and is still available through Stanyan by Mail.
I've had my share of 'writer's block,' Sebastian and the way I kick it is to get as far away from the project I'm working on as possible. Think of other things, do other things until that project, story, poem, song whatever insists on invading your thoughts again. It's kind of an "I Gottcha" game. Once it comes back it usually stays.
Good luck with your own writing. Your novel sounds a bit like a modern "City of Night," a book by John Rechey that greatly affected me when I was a young man. I even shared some of the anti-hero's exploits while I was living in New York.
Until that cup of coffee, thanks for the kind words. Warmly, Rod.
THE EARLY BOOKS
Hello I am writing to ask where I can obtain your earlier books of poetry. When I was younger I was an avid fan of your work. Lived in San Francisco for a while attended the University Of California. Wish I still had those albums. My question is this, what was the name of the poem about your cat who disappeared and you imagined a good life for it. I often think about it because I love cats, and it was a wonderful poem. Thanks Grace
Dear Grace, First off, most of my books and CD's are available through Stanyan By Mail. There is a direct link to that site from my Home Page.
The poem you're speaking of is "A Cat Named Sloopy" and it's from "Listen to the
Warm". The quickest way to see it is to go to the Archives button at the bottom of this page and request October 6, 2000 where it's printed as part of that days Flight Plan. All the best, Rod
UNHAPPY HOLIDAY
Rod, Thanksgiving will never be the same. W.
The above comment came from Wade Alexander upon hearing of Steve Allen's death. As my manager and friend Wade used to accompany me every year the Saturday before Thanksgiving to the opening ceremonies for The Salvation Army's Kettle Drive.
A group of celebrities would gather behind The Farmers Market in Hollywood for a Christmas Carol sing-along, usually led by Steve Allen at the piano. In
addition to Steve, myself , Edward and Wade the regulars nearly always included Angela Landsbury, Rhonda Fleming, Earl Holliman, Pat Boone, Rock Hudson and Dinah Shore (when they were still with us), Richard Carpenter, Jane Russell, June Foray (the voice of Boris, Natasha and many other cartoon characters) and Kay Starr.
Other performers and artists who were passing through town and of course The Salvation Army Band and Carolers always augmented us. The idea, of course, was to get the media interested and make the nightly news to publicizes The Army's Christmas Kettle Drive.
Steve and his wife Jane Meadows always found time for Charity work and like Angela and myself, their favorite charity was The Salvation Army.
Yes, Wade, Thanksgiving won't be the same this year. R
A LETTER
I wrote to you back in 1980 or 81 when I first came home from the army. I have been a fan for more years than I can count. And still find you to be the man of my dreams and aspirations, although my husband is a pretty wonderful man. I just wanted you to know I still have the letter I received ( even if not written by you personally). I will treasure it always. And, when I am
feeling low and or to above myself I turn to your poetry. Thanks for your wonderful mind and feeling. Your adoring fan always,
Brenda Vazquez
Dear Brenda, If you got a letter from me with my name on it, I wrote it. Of course, that's the reason some of my mail goes unanswered. There's no way I'd turn a personal letter over to someone else to 'handle.' Thanks for the support through the years. Be nice to your "wonderful husband." Rod
THIS IS MY BELOVED
Dear Rod, I just recently found your website. I wanted you to know "This is My Beloved" is my favorite book of poems, or prose, whatever you may call it. I first bought the book in the 70's, I believe.
I have also read "Age is Better." Just wanted to say I greatly admire your talent for poetry. No need to reply. Just had to send this. Rita
Dear Rita, you couldn't give me a nicer compliment than to mention my work in the same letter as Walter Benton's "This is My Beloved." That book and his only other published volume "Never A
Greater Need" were both early influences on the way I write.
I never had the good fortune to meet Benton, but one of the greatest gifts ever given me was autographed copies of both books, done with a very shaky hand. They were sent to me by an anonymous fan who had tracked Walter Benton down to a rest home where he was dying from Parkinson's disease. I never knew and still don't who to thank for this most meaningful gift.
I don't know much about Walter Benton's life, where he lived and worked or even how he came to write two such meaningful works. I'd like to learn everything there is to know about him.
Until I came to Random House with "Stanyan Street" and "Listen to the Warm" his books were the company's all time best selling books of poetry. For a long time I shared with him the kinship of not being taken very seriously by the academics.
I'm pleased you like "Age is Better." Warmest Regards, Rod
THE LAST WORD
"The people who cast the votes, control nothing; the people who count the votes control everything." Joseph Stalin
Tomorrow Webmaster Ken returns with "This One Does it for Me." I'll be here to see what he's up to. I hope you'll join me.
Sleep warm.
RM 11/17/2000 Previously unpublished
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