Shown here is Mike Stang and Billy Holder fighting for the title of flashiest shorts…Saul Buttaci, also known for flashing his shorts, referees. Painting by Saul Bellows..(What? oh…sorry. Wrong Bellows)…OOPS! SAL Buttacci (http://www.amazon.com/Flashing-My-Shorts-Salvatore-Buttaci/dp/0984259473) Literati! Mike Stang, who is not dead despite what KYLE Katz posted in her contest entry, has declined to be alienated from …
Shown here is Mike Stang and Billy Holder fighting for the title of flashiest shorts…Saul Buttaci, also known for flashing his shorts, referees. Painting by Saul Bellows..(What? oh…sorry. Wrong Bellows)…OOPS! SAL Buttacci (http://www.amazon.com/Flashing-My-Shorts-Salvatore-Buttaci/dp/0984259473)
Mike Stang, who is not dead despite what KYLE Katz posted in her contest entry, has declined to be alienated from our contest. He slips this one in bellow the radar. Not gone to your favorite sleeze bar yet to get material for your own entry? There is still time to win Horace, our trophy for all you wingnuts.
Schaller’s Pump earned its name because the tap pumped in from the next-door brewery; a throwback from prohibition. I sat at a far corner table as an off duty Chicago University literary professor reading between the lines of everyone I examined, when I felt his weight at my elbow.
“Side car, doctor,” he ordered from the keep and pulled up his nose at my draft. “What on earth is that? What, the old team Cougar cannot afford to pay you a decent wage?”
“I imagine that even you could ill afford Camus cognac.”
“I’ll just have to wing it, damn the French anyways.” His liver spotted backhand showed muscle as the martini glass met his lips.
“Why did you come back to Hyde Park?”
“Obama lives here!” Laughter escaped through yellow teeth permanent as tobacco. “Besides, any writer worth it sticks to their roots.”
“But, you are dead.” My beer faltered on the table through lack of attention.
“Believe you’re lying eyes.”
“They said you wrote as a Jew for Jews.”
“If you hold the same view as everybody else, you are probably wrong.”
“Hell I am lucky to get anything in the student’s weekly. I don’t fit in here.” I winced at the evening’s start up band, and when I opened my eyes, he was gone. A folded napkin under his empty glass waited.
You can decline to be alienated, if you feel like it. That is my theory—Saul Bellow
Saul Bellow (June 10, 1915 – April 5, 2005) was a Canadian-born American writer. For his literary contributions, Bellow was awarded the Pulitzer Prize, the Nobel Prize for Literature, and the National Medal of Arts. He is the only writer to win the National Book Award for Fiction three times and he received the Foundation’s lifetime Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters in 1990.
In the words of the Swedish Nobel Committee, his writing exhibited “the mixture of rich picaresque novel and subtle analysis of our culture, of entertaining adventure, drastic and tragic episodes in quick succession interspersed with philosophic conversation, all developed by a commentator with a witty tongue and penetrating insight into the outer and inner complications that drive us to act, or prevent us from acting, and that can be called the dilemma of our age.” His best-known works include The Adventures of Augie March, Henderson the Rain King, Herzog, Mr. Sammler’s Planet, Seize the Day, Humboldt’s Gift and Ravelstein. Widely regarded as one of the 20th century’s greatest authors, Bellow has had a “huge literary influence.”