The Captain Is Out to Lunch by Charles Bukowski Page A

matter. This had happened at other times but not with so many pages. Let me tell you, it is one hell of a hell of a horrible feeling when the pages vanish. Come think of it now, I have lost 3 or 4 pages at other times on my novel. A whole chapter. What I did then was simply rewrite the whole damn thing. When you do this, you lose something, little highlights that don't return but you gain something too because as you rewrite you skip some parts that didn't quite please you and you add some parts that are better. So? Well, it's a long night then. The birds are up. The wife and the cats think you've gone mad.
    I consulted some computer experts about the "blue flash“ but none of them could tell me anything. I've found out that most computer experts aren't very expert. Confounding things happen that just aren't in the book. Now that I know more about computers I think I know one thing that might have brought the work back from the "blue flash“...
    The worst night was when I sat down to the computer and it went completely crazy, sending out bombs, weird loud sounds, moments of darkness, deathly blackness, I worked and worked and worked but could do nothing. Then I noticed what looked like liquid that had hardened on the screen and around the slot near the "brain,“ the slot where you inserted the disks. One of my cats had sprayed the machine. I had to take it down to the computer shop. The mechanic was out and a salesman removed a portion of the "brain,“ a yellow liquid splashed on his white shirt and he screamed "cat spray!“ Poor guy. Poor guy. Anyhow, I left the computer. Nothing in the warranty covered cat spray. They had to take practically all the guts out of the "brain.“ It ook them 8 days to fix it. During that time I went back to my typewriter. It was like trying to break rock with my hands. I had to learn to type all over again. I had to get good and drunk to get the flow. And again, it was one night to write it and another night to straighten it out. But I was glad the typer was there. We had been toghether over 5 decades and had some great times. When I got the computer back it was with some sadness that I returned the old typer to its place in the corner. But I went back to the computer and the words flew like crazy birds. And there were no longer any blue flashes and pages that vanished. Things were even better. That cat spraying the machine fixed everything up. Only now, when I leave the computer I cover it with a large each towel and close the door.
    Yes, it's been my most productive year. Wine gets better if it's properly aged.
    I'm not in contest with anybody, have no thoughts about immortality, don't give a damn about it. It's the ACTION while you're alive. The gate springing open in the sunlight, the horses plunging through the light, all the jocks, brave little devils in their bright silks, going for it, doing it. The glory is in the motion and the dare. Death be damned. It's today and today and today. Yes.

12/9/91 1:18 AM

    The tide ebbs. I sit and stare at a paper clip for 5 minutes. Yesterday, coming in on the freeway, it was evening going into darkness. There was a light fog. Christmas was coming like a harpoon. Suddenly I noticed that I was driving almost alone. Then in the road I saw a large bumper attached to a piece of grill. I avoided it in time, then looked to my right. There was a pile-up of cars, 4 or 5 cars but there was silence, no movement, nobody around, no fire, no smoke, no headlights. I was going too fast to see if there were people in the cars. Then, at once, evening became night. Sometimes there is no warning. Things occur in seconds. Everything changes. You're alive. You're dead. And things move on.
    We are paper thin. We exist on luck amid the percentages, temporarily. And that's the best part and the worse part, the temporal factor. And there's nothing you can do about it. You can sit on top of a mountain and