Writing Life

More semi-autobiographical scribbling

The author, Chuck Kinder and his wife, Diane, appear in the photograph above.

This evening, I’ll be hosting a couple of friends as we screen the film, “Wonder Boys” for which Bob Dylan won an Oscar. What does all of this have to do with me?

When the film, based on a novel by Michael Chabon, was being filmed in Pittsburgh, I was teaching German 1 on my lunch hours in the same classroom that serves as the setting for the first scene. Michael Douglas appears as a teacher of a creative writing course. His character, modeled on Chuck Kinder, is going through a pivotal weekend. Overall, the characters and settings of the film closely mirror my own life in Pittsburgh between 1994 and 2000. I departed Pittsburgh for Copenhagen, Denmark at the end of 2000, arriving there with three suitcases to take up residence at 13 st.th. Lauridsskausgade in Norrebro on December 1. On December 2, I’d meet my then-paramour for whom I’d made the move and we’d see Wonder Boys together at Dagmar.

Life has a way of working out as it should. I won’t spoil the film.

I met Chuck Kinder in person just once, although we became Facebook friends. By then he had retired to Key West and the picture was posted by mutual friends to show that he and Diane were safe after relocating when a hurricane was coming through. When I met Chuck, he had just delivered remarks at the memorial service of Lewis “Buddy” Nordan at the Frick Fine Arts building at the University of Pittsburgh campus. Like Chuck, Buddy had been a creative writing professor at Pitt during the years that I was studying German literature and working as a Teaching Assistant. Buddy had written and published his memoir, “Boy With Loaded Gun” around the time I left for Copenhagen. Buddy had been nicknamed “The Clown Prince of Southern Literature” years before. I was fortunate to have come to be in his orbit during my last years in town.

As Chuck came to the podium, he introduced himself as “what’s left of Chuck Kinder” and regaled us with some charming stories of punking Raymond Carver over the phone from Chuck’s office as they got Ray’s feedback on some of Buddy’s writing. Ray would note that there seemed to be a lot about midgets in Buddy’s stories. “Tell Ray I’m a midget!” Buddy whispered to Chuck. When Carver mentioned that there seemed to be a lot about transvestitism too - “Tell Ray I’m a transvestite!” came the whisper. “Is he there in the office with you?” Carver inquired. Chuck acceded that he was. “…and is he in drag now?” Buddy added the details for Chuck to relay - “Tell him, I’m in a little blue Halston number! - an off-the-shoulder affair!” Ray asked if he could speak to Buddy who proceeded to do his best worst Charlie Chan impersonation, just to paint a picture of an Asian transvestite midget in the mind of Carver. This incapsulated nicely the Buddy we knew. It was August 25, 2012. It was the day Neil Armstrong died.

What was remarkable to me, having known nothing about Buddy’s connection to Carver, is that I had selected a volume of Carver short stories to read on my flight to Pittsburgh - “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love” - it was like some odd synchronicity driven from another realm. I’m not much of a believer in such things, but another event, some years later, would give me another one of those pieces of evidence that maybe I could be wrong about my skepticism. I was at a place in Georgetown, DC where people left out things to read on a table in a kind of lounge. On this particular occasion, there was just one book on the table titled “The Bastard on the Couch.” It was May 3, 2015 to be exact - my seventh wedding anniversary. I picked the book up and threw it open to a story titled “Quality Time Keeps Love Fresh” and, to my amazement, the author was no other than the now three-years dead, Lewis “Buddy” Nordan.

Now, I am not a creative writing professor, nor have I ever played one, but I am now writing and taking my queue from some giants of the scene. Screening “Wonder Boys” with some good friends this evening will be something of a tribute to the gifts that Pittsburgh bestowed upon me over the course of the six years and few months of my residency there.

If you liked this bit of writing, let me know. If you didn’t, let me know too. I am most appreciative of any feedback. It’s great to be seen.