ms. vodka: Alright. This is probably the first time I've been nervous doing a Ping Pong, so be gentle with me. I'm going to start the way I always do by asking you your full name, where you were born and when.Father Luke: Father Luke. I was born in Santa Cruz, California - where I still live. November 7th, 1959 at 6:48 in the evening. I counted back. Dad raped mom on Feb 14th. I'm a love child.
ms. vodka: So you grew up with an abusive father.Father Luke: Yeah. I was the oldest of four boys.
ms. vodka: Four boys? Are you close with your family? Your mother?
Father Luke: Mom and I speak a few times a week on the phone. Minimum of once a week. I got my sense of humor from her. She had a fifteen year detour into fear with her marriage to my dad. He was an animal. I saw my first rape before I was seven. I have chipped teeth from his fists. I watched him beat and berate my brothers, one by one, as they appeared on this planet. I watched him physically ruin my mother. One day he dumped a pot of boiling hot spaghetti gravy on her. One of my brothers was there. He was about 11 years old. He broke a bottle on the sink, and approached my father - sharp end pointed toward my father's face. 'If you ever lay a hand on my mother again, I will kill you,' he said. That was it for my mother. She left my father that day. She could take anything, that woman. But when her children had to get involved, that was it. We all were together with that kind of violence my whole childhood. As survivors we became close out of necessity. As we've grown we have stayed in touch, and have a respect for one another, and what we have been through.
ms. vodka: Wow. God. Wow. It's not often that I am speechless but right now I am pretty much speechless. Your mom sounds like an incredible woman. You must have a lot of love and respect for her. Do you ever speak to your father anymore?Father Luke: I sent him a copy of my book. I hear he didn't much like it. And yeah. Mom is a stud.
ms. vodka: Hmm. I'll avoid saying anything negative about him by changing the subject to your book. I have one. Will you sign it for me? Where can people buy a copy?Father Luke: You've got a signed copy. If I'm not mistaken you got the last copy. I met my publisher, Bill Roberts, of
Bottle of Smoke Press, when he was in town. He had the last remaining copies of my book. As we visited, I signed each book. The hardback had sold out in less than an hour. I attribute this to it being Bill's first hardcover as much as to any writing ability I have. Then my soft cover sold out. At one time you could get a copy of my book from the
GPP. But, sorry. Anyone who wants a book of mine will have to wait for any subsequent books, Angel.
ms. vodka: I don't think mine was signed. I've been over that thing cover to cover. But I'm not going to argue with you as I am pretty much always wrong when I do that. Do you have any plans in the works to do a follow up with Bottle of Smoke Press? Also, is there anywhere else we can read you? Father Luke: If yours wasn't signed, then Bill sent you his copy, and I'll sign your copy of The Pages Turned to Dust for you. What Bottle of Smoke Press has planned would be presumptuous of me to speculate on, although Bill does fine work. And I would be proud to be published by him again. You might be able to read me in Literary Mary's upcoming Journal being published soon. I submitted. So, keep your fingers crossed.
ms. vodka: I enjoy reading you on your website, F a t h e r L u k e.com. There is an interesting picture on the front page of your website. Is that you? And, if so, I have a question from gigi, which is: Do you paint your finger nails and chip it off or are your fingernails just ridiculously dirty in the car mirror picture?Father Luke: Thanks for the mention. Tell gigi that's decay.
ms. vodka: giggling. That is NOT decay! Really, what is the story behind those fingernails? Father Luke: Decay. I'm old.
ms. vodka: Rolling eyes. Not that old, crypt keeper. Alright then since you won't tell me, then I'll give you another question of hers: When did you get the tattoos, and what are they?
Father Luke: I have several. The one you can see in that picture was started by a collector for the Hell's Angels. It was supposed to be across my shoulder blades and say:
Thou Art A Priest Forever
. . . that's a quote, incomplete, that I like, and which has some meaning for me. But that nipple head wanted to put something on my arm. The story I got was that he was skimming from the Red and White. Skimming from those fellows is rather discouraged, and violators are severely disciplined. I don’t really know what happened to him, or where he ended up, but the tattoo never got finished. As you have seen, I tend to discourage personal questions, and when people ask me what the tattoo is I say it's another mistake. Then I have others. . .
ms. vodka: Well you know, knowing me, that I will ask the personal questions regardless. That brings me to your name though. And you know it is the question everyone wants me to ask you. Are you really a priest?
Father Luke: Yep. I really am.
ms. vodka: Um, so, um... do you still practice? Did you ever? Can you marry people? Do you work in a church? Father Luke: Thou Art A Priest Forever. I performed the ceremony for my Brother's wedding. I've done funerals. Serbian Orthodox Priest. I practiced in a Church, and in a Monastery. I was a Priest during the Balkan wars. If you know your history, fine. If not I won't educate you. Suffice to say the Church became involved in Politics. They were rather cornered into it. I felt this was the wrong position to take. Imagine having a burn. A severe burn. You are rushed to the hospital. At the entrance someone asks you about your politics. What difference would it make if you were a member of the Libertarian Party, or the Green Party? You have a severe burn, fuck sake. You need help, not scorn and judgment. That was the model the Church was holding forth. The Church has taken religion from people the same way that the thugs have taken the government. I went on strike. So, The Church and I parted ways. I told them I was taking a Sabbatical. That was about ten years ago. I've been having so much fun I doubt I'll ever go back. But, like I said? Thou Art A Priest Forever. This old dog has a few tricks. If that helps?
ms. vodka: Yes, thank you. Are you married? Children? Can you be a priest and get married? Father Luke: Orthodox Priests are required to get married. Unless you are a Monk. I was a Monk. I have no children, but I had lots of fun trying.
August 2008 - Father Luke vs. ms. vodka
Father Luke: Yeah. First time I was about eight years old. I was being molested by my babysitter. I learned how to kiss with tongues, and give hickeys. She was 19. She showed me some other tricks, too.
ms. vodka: That is not love and you know it.Father Luke: Well, actually? It was. It was my first time, sure. I've been in love since.
ms. vodka: Alright if you won't let me have my fun, we'll go back to that... Let's talk about writing. Dru always gets pissy with me when I don't talk about writing enough. So, when did you start writing?Father Luke: When I was French kissing my babysitter.
ms. vodka: Very funny. Now answer the question for real.Father Luke: The one about love, or the one about writing? I'm confused, ms. vodka. Because I am telling you the truth. All of it is the truth.
ms. vodka: Wow, really? You started writing when you were French kissing your babysitter?Father Luke: Everything I have said is the truth. Sorry. I haven't lived a milquetoast life. I've been homeless for most of my adult life. I have a pretty rough past. It reads like fiction, but I swear on my balls everything I tell you is real.
ms. vodka: I know, Father Luke. There's a fuck of a lot for us to touch on, so I'm trying to take this one topic at a time. I also know that you don't dig a lot of personal questions, so I'm trying to remain as respectful as my nature allows me. So can we talk about writing a little before I start bombarding you with personal questions again? Will you tell me when you started writing and why? Who your influences are?Father Luke: I started writing when I was learning what it was like to have an erection, and as I was being molested by my babysitter. I began forming stories in my head about what was happening to me. Feeling emotions way out of the reaches of children, I grappled with my experiences, and found words to be able to describe what it was like. To describe feeling which were overwhelming, and to feel desire so strong that I had not had any conscious recollections as strong up to that point of my life. That's the when. That's the why. My influences would be everyone I have ever read. I began hiding in books as I grew up. I mean it was easier for a four year old to be reading the breakfast cereal box than to be in the middle of an argument his parents were having. So, I found books. And it was there that I hid. By the way? I never said I didn't dig personal questions. I only implied that I tend to discourage them. The reason for that is that no one ever believes me. Search yourself, and see if that hasn't been true here. I have been alive a long time. I tend to insulate myself from danger. Call it survival. . .
ms. vodka: In this case, I don't think it's so much that I don't believe you as that I don't want to.
Father Luke: Not my problem.
ms. vodka: No, it's not. However, it wouldn't hurt you to throw me a bone. Abuse is not a favorite topic of mine. This Ping Pong is a stretch for me.
Father Luke: My turn?
ms. vodka: If you'd like.Father Luke: You have four kids. What do you enjoy doing with them?
ms. vodka: smiling. Lots of things. I enjoy watching them. I like to watch them be who they are. Seeing them interact with other people. I like spending time with them, doing everyday things - going to the park or the swimming pool, playing video games, watching movies, wrestling with them. I like waking up and having all four of them climb in bed with me and looking at all their little faces all cozy in there and thinking how fucking lucky I am. I enjoy watching them love each other, which isn't always the case.
Father Luke: Just spending time with kids is very important. It's what I am most grateful for from my mom. I was a kid. So. Brave enough now to give it another go with me? Or have I scared you off for good, ms. vodka?
ms. vodka: smiling. You know you cannot scare me off. Father Luke: No. I didn't. That's comforting. Thanks.
ms. vodka: Smiling with teeth. Stop making me smile. Ping Pong is no smiling matter. Is it my turn for questions or do you have another for me?
Father Luke: I believe the ball is on your side.
ms. vodka: Okay then. You have me all side tracked. Handsome men do that to me. I know you help moderate Bukowski.net. Aside from Bukowski, what other writers do you enjoy?
Father Luke: Harvey Pekar. He wrote a comic book American Splendor. When I read Harvey, and realized anyone could be a super hero in their life a lot clicked for me. I enjoy Ernest Hemingway. I love Miranda July. I adore Amy Hempel . I like Jenifer Lauck. Joe R. Lansdale. Someone asked Joe R. Lansdale how to become a writer. He said: 'First get good at plumbing.' Joe had worked as a plumber for years to survive, and he was speaking from his experience. I liked that. You? Who are some of your favorite writers?
ms. vodka: My favorite writers? Well, you for one. Bukowski, of course. Hemingway is a favorite. I love Anne Rice. As far as poets go, Rimbaud has been a love. I enjoy Nikki Giovanni, Dylan Thomas, fell in love with the work of Dorianne Laux fairly recently. I love, love, love and have read all the fiction of Tom Robbins. There are many people I love to read on the forums.
Father Luke: Thanks. Looks like I'm in pretty good company. I would like to mention that I am very fond of the writing of
justin.barrett. You can find his work over at the GPP. He is among the finest writers we have.
ms. vodka: I have enjoyed what I've read of his also, since you showed me his website. He's very talented. So, speaking of the internet. How did you find LiteraryMary? The first time, I mean.Father Luke: I was looking for a good writing forum.
ms. vodka: So you searched us up? Google style? And did you find what you were looking for?
Father Luke: I searched out writing forums. Yeah. I was insulted by one of your mods, when I said my name was Father Luke. They called me violent. I called them a cunt, and I left.
ms. vodka: Yah, yah I remember. Believe me do I ever remember. I'd like to thank you for returning again. I'd also like to thank you for the outstanding level of critique you've brought to the forum.Father Luke: You give what you get. I still enjoy Mary. I like those who are participating to bring out the best in their work. Writing is solitary, and I understand a forum also needs debates, bullshit threads, and the like. It helps to have community no matter who you are. But writers are special, aren't we? We need people, and we push them away. The internet is a perfect medium for loners like us. We can participate, not participate. Critique. Learn. Socialize. Mary is among the best places I have seen on the net.
ms. vodka: Thank you very much, Father Luke. That means a lot to me. I want to talk to you about Bukowski for a second. When did you start reading him? What book? What is it about his writing that appeals to you? Do you identify with him as a person and a writer?Father Luke: I was introduced to Bukowski through a guy named Mr 1:15. Mr 1:15 used to call people up at 1:15 in the morning and berate them on their voice mail. Eventually he was whispering. He lived at home with his mother, and the upstairs neighbors were complaining about his verbal attacks. They had to sleep while trying not to listen to his telephone harangues. His mom got complaints. So, Mr. 1:15 had to tone it down. He introduced me to a community of people I later named The Voice Jailors. My friend Phineas Narco developed a radio show with Angel D. Monique about our adventures. Mr. 1:15 was sure I would enjoy Charles Bukowski. He suggested I read Ham on Rye. I did. Bukowski's writing remains deceptively simple. I identify with him as a person. As a writer he is much more productive than I am. Maybe one day . . .
ms. vodka: What would you say to those who think Bukowski was a talentless hack, who think he was a poor writer and merely got famous on his lifestyle and his subject matter?
Father Luke: I wouldn't have much to say about Bukowski to them. I really don't try to change anyone's mind. I will, however celebrate with those who do enjoy what they've found. My turn?
ms. vodka: Yes, okay.Father Luke: When did you first begin writing?
ms. vodka: I started writing when I was about 12 years old. I wrote pretty consistently until I was about 21. Then I took about a ten year break and started up again after I returned to school. meh. Maybe an eight year break.
Father Luke: When you don't write, does it do something to you like being confined, or punished?
August 2008 - Father Luke vs. ms. vodka
Father Luke: Too bad. Now?
ms. vodka: Now I couldn't not write. It's just what I do. I will probably always write in some form or another, even if it's just journaling. Someday, though, I do hope to have a good job teaching and more happy subject matter to write about.
Father Luke: Good luck. And yeah. That's how I feel when I don't write. If I may?
ms. vodka: Yes?Father Luke: I have begun finding no time to write. Once again I am stuck in a hobo job with no money coming in, and no money with rent due. You would cry to hear all the jobs I’ve held. Suffice to say that
one year I held in excess of 32 jobs, and the amount of money I have earned in my life some people earn in a year. Lots of people. I've earned about $150,000 since age 16. I live in a little hotel room in Santa Cruz, and I am beginning to walk with a limp in my left leg. Time waits for no one, and I am feeling the pressure of life. I only crank out one or two poems each night. Granted, at the end of the year that over three hundred poems, but I want more time. Tra, la la . . . Someone asked Raymond Carver why his pieces were so short. Ray answered that between a wife, kids, a job, errands to do during the day, and life itself he had to write short pieces. He didn't have any time for anything else. I do enjoy Raymond Carver, btw.
ms. vodka: Me too, I forgot Raymond Carver. Speaking of work and lack of work, you mentioned you were homeless for a time. How did you become homeless and for how long did you live on the streets? How did you work your way out of it?
Father Luke: I became homeless for the same reason anyone does, I suppose. I was broke and couldn't get it together. Off and on I have been on the streets for 27 years. Occasionally I make it inside like I am now. I'll miss it if I have to give it up again. I’ve had a lot of help along the way. However, as you have seen, I frighten easy. And I hold my mud. I like to do things myself. The help has come in the way of fortunate breaks. I have always worked. Not a year has gone by in my life that I haven't worked. I was raised on a farm. I found out about work at an early age. One thing I will say about being homeless? It's getting more violent, and dangerous, to be outside. Scary dangerous. The last time I was homeless I was beaten by a gang with bottles and sticks. The cops laughed, and scorned me. Homeless? Haw. Too bad they didn't fucking kill you! - kiss my ass. . . Jesus it’s insane out there.
ms. vodka: I know you are sober. How long have you been so, and did that have anything to do with you getting off the streets? Father Luke: It's 2008. November of this year I will have been sober 20 years. Wish me luck? I've been homeless sober, and I've been homeless drunk.
ms. vodka: Congratulations and good luck. What kind of drunk are you? Mean or nice or somewhere in between?Father Luke: I'm a sober drunk.
ms. vodka: What does that mean? Oh wait laughing.Father Luke: Okay.
ms. vodka: No, I mean when you have been drunk, as a verb, in the past - are you prone to episodes of violence?
Father Luke: I believe I am also a human? I mean, as a human I have all the failings every other human has. I’d like to think I also have some of the good qualities, too. So, being a drunk has nothing to do with violence. Being violent has more to do with being an asshole. I can be violent. I'm big; I'm tall; I'm imposing in my physical presence. I can also appear violent without really trying. I have an intense gaze. . . heh. Also? Being homeless has nothing to do with alcohol. It's more a matter of money. The only thing I did differently as a drunk than I do sober is that I could black-out. More than once I came to while driving. That was a trip. Where was I ?!? Where was I going? So, let's kick those myths square in the nuts. Violence is not caused by alcohol. It's caused by being an asshole. Being homeless is caused by not having money for a place to live. For that matter begging is not caused by alcoholism, neither is being dirty, and sleeping in the park all day. On the other hand? Alcoholism is recognized as a disease. So, that's about where I'm at with all that.
ms. vodka: Excellent. That is an excellent answer. Father Luke: Ask you a question?
ms. vodka: Sure.Father Luke: Well, first, I don't think in terms of excellence when speaking from my experience. I usually just tell the truth. Experience can't really be judged in those terms. My question to you was have you had terrible experiences surrounding drugs and alcohol? If so, do you know why you still worry about those things, if they were long ago. In other words, do you believe you have to fear alcoholism? If so, why?
ms. vodka: Are you speaking of my own troubles with drugs and alcohol or troubles I have known because of the drug and alcohol problems of others? Or both?Father Luke: In general. So both. I hadn't meant to make you confess anything. I was just speaking in general.
ms. vodka: I fear alcoholism for myself because my mother was an alcoholic. She was, for a time extremely unhappy and she made sure all of us kids suffered that unhappiness with her. Dealing with that, as a child, was very hard. I don't want to make my children deal with alcoholism or that level of sadness in me, so I'm careful about the amount I drink. I have, in the past had problems with drugs. I don't do those drugs anymore. I fear alcoholism because, from my experience, it carries with it or temporarily excuses certain behaviors including violence. I would prefer to not subject myself or my children to that type of violence either. Let's just say that everything that I have ever dealt with in my life that was really, really, really bad or traumatic has had something to do with alcohol. So yes, I do fear alcoholism. Father Luke: If I put a glass of alcohol on a table, can it harm you?
ms. vodka: No, it cannot. But someone else, who is larger and stronger than I, having consumed enough of it to no longer be present in their body, can.Father Luke: What if they were locked in a cage?
ms. vodka: Only if I'm standing close enough to the cage to hear what they are saying. There are certain things one person can say to another that can be as damaging as physical abuse. And I'm not talking about calling someone a cunt.Father Luke: So you are afraid of violence, and violent behavior?
ms. vodka: I am afraid of violence, violent behavior and in certain situations I am afraid of words.Father Luke: What would happen if you weren't afraid of that? I'm not saying it's wrong to be afraid. I'm asking what would happen if you weren't afraid of violence, violent behavior and in certain situations being afraid of words?
ms. vodka: If you have children to protect, there is a natural fear of violence. No mother wants to see her children exposed to violence or harmed in any way. No good mother, at least. If I wasn't afraid? I don't think it would be very smart. That fear is something which needs to be activated in certain situations to keep you in your toes. Compare it to pain. If you didn't experience pain, a lot of times you wouldn't know something were wrong until it was too late.Father Luke: Do you want to believe that fear is something which is necessary?
ms. vodka: I don't want to, no. I don't see it as a choice.Father Luke: Is something necessary a choice?
ms. vodka: Well 'wanting to believe' that something is necessary is implying that it might not be. Father Luke: Do you believe that there is, naturally, a fear of violence, that good mothers have?
ms. vodka: Some mothers, yes. Maybe not all. I'm sure there are plenty of mothers with nothing much to fear.Father Luke: I was asking you. Not plenty of mothers. I'm more interested in you just now.
ms. vodka: Suffice it to say that this mother would choose fear and safety over no fear and being blindsided by someone else's rage.
Father Luke: Is that okay?
ms. vodka: No, it's not okay. But I do what I need to do. And right now, Papí, my stomach hurts and I need to change the topic of conversation if that wouldn’t offend you.Father Luke: Are you as happy as you want to be?
ms. vodka: At this very moment in time, I'm as happy as I can be. No, I am not as happy as I want to be, but I'm happier than I've been in a very long time.
Father Luke: Is that okay?
ms. vodka: For now, it's okay. I'm okay.Father Luke: Your question.
ms. vodka: Okay my question. Good. Let's switch gears. You’ve mentioned the GPP. LiteraryMary swaps links with them, and we also work as operatives placing broadsides. Why don’t you take a minute to tell people what they’re all about and you’re involvement with them?
Father Luke: I only know what I've read on their website. They are a core group of Poets and writers who wanted to put writing, and poetry, back into the hands of those who deserved it: The people who read it. They were tired of the fat landed gentry who are running the publishing industry, and decided they were going to kick in the doors of that world and distribute poetry for free. They are an anonymous bunch. The focus is on the writing, not so much on the GPP. I have been honored to have one of my poems selected by all the operatives in a voting procedure which happens twice a year. If you are an operative you may have voted for me, for all I know. All operatives, which you are, vote. Or, they are invited to. . . I know that I wasn't allowed to vote for myself. No one is allowed to vote for their own poems. The voting is quite sophisticated, and the web-tech there has their shit quite neatly together. The whole of the GPP rather seems
an idea whose time has come. Poetry is in an exciting period in world history. GPP seems to be one of the forerunners in affecting a change, and I'm happy to see what they are doing. The poetry is hand printed on thick paper stock known as broadsides. The postcard sized poems are then hidden all over the world in books: Libraries, Book Stores, Poetry Readings, the broadsides turn up at all sorts of places. And people find beautiful little gems, like walking along the beach and finding a sand dollar. An unexpected joy.
ms. vodka: I discovered them in a thread on Bukowski.net and joined up fairly soon after that. I think it's a very cool thing that they are doing. Not to mention that the broadsides are very professionally done. I like hiding them with gigi. It's sort of a thing. Hide broadsides, go to Ground Kontrol. That is very cool that one of your poems has been chosen for a broadside. Is that in the next bunch coming out? Do you know?
Father Luke: I see you avoided the question of whether you voted. I do want to remind you that you may vote, and also may submit poetry. So - I was told that the final batch of broad sides will be mailed soon. If you haven't seen mine yet, keep a look out. I'm among some pretty heavy writers.
ms. vodka: Awesome. I don't want to know, I like being surprised. No, I didn't vote this round. I've been really slammed with the journal and it's been about all I can do to get the actual broadsides placed. Hopefully I will be able to up my participation level in the future. Hopefully some of Mary's members, if they haven't already will go over there and get involved.ms. vodka: Alright, next question. Your level of critique is superb. One of our moderators, Sy, suggested that I ask you what you think are the components of good critique.
Father Luke: Give your attention to the piece that the writer has chosen to offer up for criticism. Do you know what it is to pay attention to something? It takes devotion. It takes energy. You should be exhausted after a critique. Literally. It takes that much energy. If I don't have time for a critique, I won't leave a note telling the writer I haven't time. That's not a crit, it's grandstanding.
"Read the piece! Will take time to crit later!"
Feh. . . Bullshit . . . Really take the time and do it later, and forget about the R.S.V.P. Show, don't tell, as writers are fond of throwing at one another. The thing about crits is that when I take time to do a crit, I am learning as much about writing as I am offering. I do crits out of pure selfishness. I want to expand my writing; I want to expand my wisdom. I have offered crits on types of writing I have no knowledge of to see if my perspective may offer insights. If so, then a type of communication happens. But the main thing is to focus on the work you are critiquing. It takes devotion to those words. If you have that, then. . . And thanks for the compliment.
ms. vodka: You're welcome, Father Luke. I'm guilty of telling people I will be back to do a crit. But, take for instance, dannyboy. He has an unbelievable poem sitting up on the forum right now and at this very moment I am interviewing you. Earlier today I was interviewing you, etc. Sometimes I just want someone to know I know it's there, and to let them know I'm not ignoring it. I hate for people to think I'm ignoring something they've written. I'm probably over-sensitive that way. Me? I'm never over-sensitive. 
Father Luke: Well, I did critique that poem. It kicks some serious balls. I read the first draft. I never said anything on the first draft. I offered what I could, when I could, and not excuses. Do you know what a crit takes out of me when I do a good one? A lot. And I am rewarded more than I give. If I leave a half-assed crit, then I cheat myself, not the person I am critiquing. By the way? I am not married to my crit. I give it, then I move away from it. So if a writer gets angry, as some have, and not just on LM. But I could care less. I'm not a writer to make friends. I don't like friends much usually. They interfere with my writing time. That or they want money. I had an interesting experience. A self styled writer moved to my home town, borrowed money, then I never saw her again. Her boy friend sent me an email by mistake. I believe he thought I wanted to steal his girl. I wrote to him to wise up. Then, too, I wrote about a poetry reading in Santa Cruz. I was castigated right smartly. In no uncertain terms I was literally uninvited to any of the reindeer games the Santa Cruz Poets play. Feh. Bullshit again. . . My crime, as it turns out, was that I had the audacity to call their reading polite. (shaking head). I really don't get people. I am very much a lone wolf. I rather enjoy that.
ms. vodka: Santa Cruz is overrated. Except for the exquisite fog. You should try Portland. I hear the women are way better. You asked me earlier if I am happy. Are you?Father Luke: I choose happiness. It doesn't choose me. Portland? Meh. If I ever move again, it would be for forever. As to the women? Dude. I’ve had so many women it's embarrassing. I'm a whore. You'd asked me about love. My first was at eight years old. I'm forty eight now. Forty years of women. The kids can have the girls. I've had two marriages. One was performed by a drunk Minister in Vegas when I was in my twenties. The second was a common law marriage - eight years is married, I don't care what anyone calls it. . . In between those, and before, and after, I have had plenty of women. I don't want to fuck around anymore, quite frankly. I would rather be alone. Sometimes masturbating is just so much easier than being in relationship. If you were talking about relationships. . . . Seriously? Those things grow, and they require compromise. It takes as much devotion as a writing critique. And I want relationships for selfish reasons. Like offering a good crit, a relationship takes attention. Attention to the one you are in relation with, attention to the relationship itself, Santa Cruz is like Portland, is like a Canadian Tea Party is like. . . . In other words. . . A relationship is a very selfish thing. I wouldn't get into one just for fun. Love is like a raffle, the winners have to be present to win.
ms. vodka: So are you saying, at this point in your life, you choose to be alone?
Father Luke: I'm saying that relationships are something I enter into fully conscious and that I am not willing to party fuck anymore. I would rather stay home and jack off to internet porn. A relationship to me is vital, living, and very important. I wouldn't enter into one unless I was serious about it.
August 2008 - Father Luke vs. ms. vodka
Father Luke: It's too late to live fast, die young, and leave a beautiful corpse, so. . . . I was reading that by 2025 there will be a billion millionaires. It was in 'the futurist' magazine. This is 2008. That's 17 years from now. The five year plan is passé, Chica. In five years I imagine I will be a waiter serving soup to someone in some greasy spoon restaurant. Then I will come home and write at night. I'd be okay with that.
ms. vodka: Alright then, Toughie Loner. I am going to wrap this up. Is there anything else that you would like to ask me, anyone or anything you would like to discuss or mention, or anyone or anything I have forgotten to ask you about?Father Luke: Toughie loner? I write poetry. . . Do tough guys write poetry now-a-days?
ms. vodka: Tough guys have been known to write poetry, on occasion, yes. Father Luke: Ah. Okay then. So You want me to wrap it up; the lame five year question was the finish, I get the epilog?
ms. vodka: That was not a lame question. It was a good question. It tells us a lot about you. I would have answered the question much differently, for instance. A million people could answer that question a million different ways.
Father Luke: So I get the epilog?
ms. vodka: Sure. But it was a good question. Yes it was, indeed. sniffle.Father Luke: I think you allowed for a good back and forth. We plugged all the right people, I got a chance to fuck around and brag, you got to play victim. I have a question. . . .
ms. vodka: Careful with that playing victim statement.Father Luke: Is there anything you would like to ask me you haven't let yourself ask me. sniffle. . .
ms. vodka: Smiling. Best for me to not ask enough than to ask too much, wouldn't you say? Here, have a tissue.
Father Luke: I'll share the tissue. I would like to ask you a parting question?
ms. vodka: Yes?Father Luke: Do you enjoy being a mother?
ms. vodka: Very much so. It's like the Navy or whatever; it's the toughest job you'll ever love. Do you ever wish you were a father? Not a Father, as you are now, but a father?
Father Luke: All the time.
ms. vodka: I think you would be a very good father, for what it's worth.
Father Luke: If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we'd all have a merry Christmas. Life isn't a theory, unfortunately. But thanks for the compliment. It means a great deal coming from a woman who enjoys her children. I’ll treasure that.
ms. vodka: I'm glad to have left you with something in exchange for your time. Thank you for agreeing to do this ping pong at such short notice. I appreciate it very much.
Father Luke: Dude.
ms. vodka: Dude?Father Luke: I mean: You’re very welcome. I enjoyed my time. The pleasure was all mine. Come back any time. . .
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