Gigantic.31
Rhinecliff 1, Seoul 0
A short list of what most people sported upon leaving the Iowa Writers’ Workshop: finished manuscripts, agents, grants, fellowships, residencies.
Lacking any of these, I needed a plan that said progress. It had to be a big plan.
A few others had gotten English teaching jobs in Korea. I called their contact in Seoul. I was amazed how quickly he offered me the job. When I tried to pin down the logistics, he told me:
“You bring cognac.”
He specified the brand to make sure I wouldn’t bring the cheap stuff. He added a top-shelf scotch to his wish list, for good measure.
“Uh, okay…”
To save money for my travels, I landed a bartending gig and moved in for the summer with my pal Rick Harsch who lived downstairs from my old apartment.
This is how to make coffee like Rick Harsch:
1 Take a rusting metal percolator pot, filter long gone, twenty-five cents at local thrift store.
2 Mix supermarket brand coffee with tap water, boil together on stovetop until scalding.
3 Attach leather belt to melted handle of extremely hot pot.
4 Hold firmly other end of belt, swing extremely hot pot wildly in a circle around kitchen, allowing g-force to sink (most of) loose grounds to bottom of pot.
5 Enjoy.
While drinking our morning coffee, Rick would read aloud the boxscores from last night’s game in such a vivid way, you could picture the Cubs’ playing better than if you were at Wrigley.
Elsewhere in the paper that summer, North Korean leader Kim Jong Il died and, somewhat tangential to this, North Korea pulled out of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. North and South Korea careened closer to direct military confrontation than any time since the Korean War had ended in 1953.
“The duck must have its bill,” Rick added, obliquely alluding to some odd theory that China would enter the fray and attempt to dominate the entire peninsula.
I called the man who wanted the cognac and gave him my regrets. There was no fucking way I was going to Korea.
The end of summer was approaching. I didn’t want to be hanging around Iowa City with no plans when the new crop of wide-eyed workshop students arrived.
I packed my stuff, rented a brand new Crown Victoria, and headed to Kingston. Most comfortable car I’d ever driven. It was like driving a couch.
Back east, I began reconnecting. John deVries had reconfigured Agit Pop into a four-piece called Cellophane. Remembering having played together when he’d visited Iowa, he gave me a call.
“We’re playing Rhinecliff this Friday, you wanna open?”
This was the first time I’d been asked to join the club, of course I’d open. Actually, I was the opener for their opener, John always had three acts on the bill to justify that steep four dollar cover charge.
My set was short, now a mix of originals and covers. The crowd back in Iowa City loved lyrics. At the Rhinecliff I got heckled. I actually knew the guy. At least people were watching.
The room really started filling up as I slid my Silvertone back into its gig bag. Harmony Rockets was the seldom-seen alter ego of Mercury Rev, everyone wanted to see them. I hadn’t actually met anyone in the band at this point. The premonition I’d had the summer before was a distant memory. I stood in the crowd with everyone else.
Ten minutes in, the band was still playing the same chord roughly in synch with a seizure-inducing light show. I snuck out to the side porch with my friends Neil and Bosco.
Our escape was well-documented by Billy Name who likewise slipped out and took our photo. It would be hanging in my living room today, but I’d have to explain to my nine-year-old why Daddy is smoking a cigarette.
At the end of the night, John gave me ten bucks on top of the two drink tickets I’d gotten earlier. The night had gone well, I’d soon be opening for them again.
On the international stage, an agreement was brokered, stabilizing the North Korean crisis. If I’d gone to Korea, I’d been living rent-free in an apartment in Seoul, eating kimchi and bibimbap, and clearing over a thousand a month. Arguably a better move financially than ten dollars a pop as an opening act in an upstate dive bar.
But if I’d gone to Korea, what happened next never would have happened.
—
Click below for…
The centrifugal coffee recipe is gold! I've been using a variation for years, but this one is better!
As you know, I brought the cognac. I didn't know that everyone left Iowa with agents and finished manuscripts! S. Korea was quite the adventure, but it's great that fate intervened for you.