Three Hoots (Hoot Suite?)

Something a little different in 2014. Hoot is a mini literary review. On a postcard. I thought that was great fun so I sent some stuff in and got three out of four of them....carded. They required MP3s of each, also, so GW's dulcets are available if you want to hear, as well as read, them. I just don't have the artwork here--they did one and it's on their site, which I will include. Diana Marye Huff, a friend and awesome artist did two, and they will be online on Hoot soon. Anyway, here are the three that were accepted:


Beatrixia Contraindications

Beatrixia is not for everyone.  Do not take Beatrixia if you are nursing, thinking about nursing, or taking a nursing course.  Talk to your doctor if suicidal, alcoholic or nursing.  Beatrixia may cause sudden death, lightheadedness, hallucinations, cold sores, smart talk to co-workers, simple CMS or Drupal in the more bizarre cases.  If you cannot pay for Beatrixia send for another copy of this information.  Do not take Beatrixia if you are depressive, bipolar, or display signs of chest congestion, or are under 12. Beatrixia is not a substitute for credibility deficit or mucilage.  If experiencing wistfulness, soul matrix or pre-mess-around symptoms, you're on your own as nobody will be able to help much.  Should you experience an erection lasting over four hours, well, this is, for some, great cause for celebration, yet compels some to call their doctors even if they aren't on a first name basis. 

 

The Filipino Yoyo Champion

Saturday, he stood on the corner by the movie theater manipulating a Duncan yoyo until he’d collected a crowd.  Then he opened a case of Duncan yoyos and sold them to the kids.  For an extra amount he would hand carve birds and intricate designs in the wooden yoyos, and he would show us how to do tricks.  He made us forget the cold war and the under-our-desk drills to evade radiation. I learned Walk The Dog but it scarred the finish near where he had carved a bird in a few deft flicks of his knife. I don't recall the movie, had to be a serial on Saturday, a western cliffhanger, but I remember every line of his dark face, a missing tooth in his ready smile, and the satin jacket he wore that said "Yoyo Champion, Manila" on the back with fancy sewing.

 

Tacky Stories

My uncle was a gambler and kept money in his shoe. We would drop my grandmother off at church on Sunday and she would tell him, "Now, Pete, don't tell him any tacky stories." And he would say "Okay, chief," which he always called his mother. Then we would drive downtown to Union Station and he would buy a copy of the Daily Racing Form, and place a bet with someone there by the magazine stand. He would then make notations in a small black book where he kept horses' names and statistics. He had a system, he said. "The tacky story," I would say, maybe pointing to his freshly scarred knuckles. He'd tell me all about a contretemps at The Blue Goose where he'd had to fight his way out. Then he'd gun the Lincoln Zephyr and say, "Want to see it fly?"

Here's Hoot's website--the yoyo art is up there now, and the other two will soon follow. Give 'em a hoot. It really is one: http://www.hootreview.com/

And here are the vocals. Hear me Hoot:

Hoot Beatrixia
Hoot Yoyo
Hoot Tacky

You Pays Your Money and You Takes Your Chance.

But The Story Prize is nice enough to do a blog on entrants.

I entered Night Train Cold Beer in TSP mainly to try and get the spotlight award for new guys. Some heavyweight like Dubus will win the main event but I'm honored to be in that company. Anyway, here's an interview type blog that will tell a little bit more about GW for whoever is interested. Thanks for reading.  

http://thestoryprize.blogspot.com/2013/11/guinotte-wise-gets-unstuck.html

The Wrong Crowd

Davy Gant. His art, mostly head portraits that I saw first, looked like they'd been painted with a cigar butt dipped in mud and house paint.  But the power, the sheer energy that burst off the canvases, was almost breathtaking. They caused an arc between your eyes and the roiled surface of the painting. It wasn't exactly anger that was popping off the things, but something like it, subtler. Some humor in there too. But the paintings were unmistakably the work of someone very gifted.

gant.jpg

When I met the painter, he reminded me of some intelligent outlaws I'd known in Milwaukee when I worked on Harley Davidson advertising. I'd had Harleys since I was fourteen, so I had met my share of road agents, and ridden with some clubs, not Hell's Angels, but outlaw enough. In fact, the Milwaukee Outlaws bought my extreme chopper when I had to sell it; the well pump shot craps in our rural home, and I needed the cash. They paid me in stacks of twenties at my kitchen table.

What's this got to do with writing? Gant had a show, and it was all biker art--extremely good and crackling with energy like drag pipes on a Harley. His friends, The Conquerors, supplied great music, from haunting to biker brash. And his own rat-chopper sat in the center of the show on a Persian carpet. Two extremely talented photographers, The Wade Brothers, recorded the show, and as synergy would have it, all decided to make an installation out of it. With a 1968 biker flick, 1960's thrash music, the compelling art, and bikers causing actual commotions. They call it The Wrong Crowd complete with club colors: a tongue with wings and an acid tab.

They eschewed the usual crowd-begging sources, acquired some sponsors, and asked me to write the script for the movie. The first one I wrote opened with three main characters riding toward the camera, their faces intercutting with their mug shots, their various crimes listed onscreen as credits. They had "acceptable" names like The Rev, who was a defrocked minister, and backstories revealed in the opening.

But they were too mild.

They supplied the names. Mother*****r, Piece of s**t, and Fatass.  And they said, the music carries the show. Just give it a little structure. 1968 was a year of seismic change, upheaval. RFK and MLK were killed. Vietnam was rampant. A 1968 bumper sticker summed it up: We are the people our parents warned us about.

So I started the flick with that spectacular '68 image of Earth rising above the lunar surface shot from Apollo 8. Then, bam, quick cuts of parties, psychedelic scenes, politicians, Laugh-in, classic godawful Vietnam pix, Hell's Angels, Black Panthers and, as they say, much much more. Then dissolve to Fatass and friends at a campground with the rest of the gang. The Conquerors music starts and continues to the end with an entire album.  Dialogue is sparse and shocking in places. The three main characters split up, raise hell, and reconvene at the campground. Beer, booze, acid and marijuana provide a steady diet along with some bar sandwiches and cop encounters. Sex, violence, and pretty damn good music inform the action. How they will shoot this stuff is a challenge, but The Wade Brothers are magicians of the lens and viewfinder. Look for it next summer or fall. It will raise some hackles and some hell, just like the sixties. And it took me back to some years I now see that I was fortunate to survive.

 

Guinotte Wise is a sculptor and writer. His latest book, Night Train, Cold Beer is available here:

http://www.amazon.com/Night-Train-Cold-Beer-Guinotte/dp/1937302091/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1381274968&sr=1-1&keywords=Night+train+cold+beer

A Gant painting:  http://ereview.org/2010/08/14/face-to-faces-david-gant/

The Wade Brothers:  http://www.thewadebrothers.com/