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Not Waving But Drowning :: A Poem by Stevie Smith

Not Waving but Drowning by Stevie Smith

Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he’s dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too cold always (Still the dead one lay moaning) I was much too far out all my life And not waving but drowning.


Michael Chabon for Ricky Jay

I enjoyed this brief heart-felt essay written by one of my favorite authors about one of my favorite actor/magician/book collector/person. Read this adaptation of Michael Chabon’s eulogy for Ricky Jay.

The first time I saw Ricky Jay perform was sometime around 1976, on The Mike Douglas Show. Ricky was beheading roses and puncturing watermelons with one of the simple playing cards that, in his hands, became a deadly missile. He was wearing a three-piece suit but he had a long beard, and hair down to his waist, and my grandmother, watching with me, thought he looked like a degenerate. I thought he was the coolest human I had ever seen, and that impression only deepened when, many years later, I was lucky enough to get to know him…(continue here…)