By Eli Hastings
A deeply own rumination at the existential reasons for the desperation and disappointment skilled by way of these being affected by habit and psychological sickness, this nuanced memoir brings to existence the stricken, decade-long dating among Eli Hastings and his pal Serala. At kinfolk occasions, Serala wore saris and ate delicately from plates of curry. yet in other places, she wore a lip ring, dressmaker colors, and a cowboy hat; would continually drink frat boys less than the desk; might sleep under 5 hours every week; and may position herself in risky occasions for one more bag of heroin. Serala’s advanced personality and doubtless haphazard offerings are made actual, from ill-advised quests for narcotics in Mexican border cities to unplanned 50-hour street journeys from L.A. to ny urban. even if her darkish and worrying trip concluded tragically at age 27, Eli Hastings writes with hopeful solution approximately his certain friendship.
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Extra info for Clearly Now, the Rain: A Memoir of Love and Other Trips
Years of childhood hardship in the South had taught Edward to be resourceful. He saved fresh herbs in Ziploc bags in the freezer, quartered the lard he bought in blocks from his Queens butcher and carefully wrapped each in waxed paper for storage in his refrigerator. Edward loved to shop at specialty food stores such as Citarella and Gourmet Garage but he happily made do at his local supermarket. He didn’t own any fancy kitchen implements, and the few cookbooks I saw, which he almost never opened, had been gifts from well-meaning friends.
I’m not sure why I broke down when Valerie described Paula’s serenade. I had never met Edward and, though it was a poignant scene, I can’t help but think that it was also a stark reminder of my own unhappiness. I had recently moved to New York to work as a newspaper reporter and I would be spending Christmas on assignment. My marriage was unraveling, despite my best efforts to pretend that nothing was wrong. And I was more than a little concerned about the impact on my young daughter. When I hinted at my own predicament—I did not want to burden Valerie with my own problems when her father was ill—she suggested I have dinner with Edward.
We shared cocktails, a bottle of wine, and whatever Edward was inspired to cook that day. Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, and Ute Lemper sang in the background, but sometimes there was just comfortable silence and the wind whistling outside his fourteenth floor windows. 2 Flounder, Poached in Vermouth, Sauce Fumet Pommes de Terre Sarladaises Baby Spinach Avocado Salad, Homemade Blue Cheese Dressing Apricot Soufflés Martinis, Vouvray I arrived at Edward’s apartment just before sunset, walking the few blocks from my own apartment on the island, along the East River promenade, toward the Queensboro Bridge, negotiating little clusters of pushcarts and cyclists speeding along the riverside track.
Clearly Now, the Rain: A Memoir of Love and Other Trips by Eli Hastings