Notes from the End of the World
My friend Gregg L sent me an email today that he had dug out of his archives, from 1995, when I had just begun another fellowship in Provincetown, at the Fine Arts Work Center, for the off-season. It was somewhat shocking in that I hardly recognized myself. Here is the text:
NOTES FROM THE END OF THE WORLD: Dateline October 1, 
CRICKETS: At the tip of this jetty, spiraling 75 miles into the Atlantic,
a massive invasion of crickets has occurred. They are everywhere — indoors, outdoors, tailpipes, whale-watching. And they won't shut up!! Never mind trying to concentrate and get any work done. I lay on the sofa to read something and something creeps over the top of the sofa into my line of sight. A cricket!!! I'm usually a humane person, but the other day I couldn't stand trying to trap the damn hopping things any more, so I stepped on one. I left it there for a few minutes, and when I looked back at it, two more crickets were hovering over the dead body as if in mourning......so, I put them all out of their misery.
FASHION: The aesthetic this fall in P-Town seems to not have changed much over the last four seasons, since I last resided here: Try to look as disgusting as possible. Like you've never heard of a razor. Like you just got out of bed. In other words, like an "artiste". And remember, rule number 1: Anything Goes — wigs, fashions from ten years back, fourth-day facial growth, even hair-club for men. Remember, extensions are more of a nineties fashion. The town aluminum can-scavenger, fondly known to locals as Popeye, wheels his shopping cart of cans down Commercial Street, and the other day collided with a Roller Blader. The poor spandex-clad muscleboy, after falling to the ground and denting a can with his forehead, skated away in fright as Popeye shook his fist and scrambled to gather his hundred or so cans, all the while, yelling "They're mine! They're mine!"
GATHERINGS: Tonight is Leather Bingo Night at the Universalist Church in the center of town. Seriously. Leather must be worn by all who attend, and anybody with a winning card that includes "O-69" gets a free half-hour in the sling at the Vault across the street, afterwards.
NOTES FROM NATURE: As the tourist season has cooled off, the skunk season has heated up, and these stinkies have become bolder than ever. Just tonight, at Spiritus, at around 1:30am, a skunk came running out of the alleyway leading to the Pied Piper and chased three screeeching queens, clutching their pizza, across Commercial Street as the rest of the crowd screamed with delight. Ahh, life in the country.