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Hello, Jamie here. I discovered Bukowski awhile back and I'm glad that I did. I only wish it had been years earlier. I've never considered my self much of a "reader" or "fan of poetry" but Bukowski's work has changed that somehow. The most fascinating thing to me is the honesty with which he wrote. Most authors would not be that honest in sharing specific details about their personality and experiences. Though my life was nothing nearly as bad as Bukowski's, I can definately relate to many things about adolesence and growing up, view of the world, and stories that my dad told me about his (much harder life than mine) when I was growing up. Reading his works, what I have read so far, has taken me back to a lot of my own burried memories, and stories that I heard growing up about people who had very hard times. Anyway, the "admiring of Bukowski" is one of those things where I suppose you either do...or you don't. I definately do admire the man and his work and I'm glad I found this site.
 
No, I suppose I'm not much of a writer. When I was young, people told me I was a good writer. I had a college English teacher who strongly suggested that I change my major to journalism but I more or less ignored it. Looking back I was already programmed into society's bullshit ways of thinking one ought to approach life, family, career, etc.

I started with Post Office and then read Ham On Rye. Now I'm reading Women.
 
but I more or less ignored it. Looking back I was already programmed into society's bullshit ways of thinking one ought to approach life, family, career, etc.

So you did the practical thing and took up the electric guitar and started a band. Good man.
 
So you did the practical thing and took up the electric guitar and started a band. Good man.
Ha! Thanks. Well Otto.....It didn't happen quite that way. The music thing happened later in life. Family, work, etc always came first and still does. Playing music has been the one individualistic thing that I've always held onto. But recently when I read the "Man At The Piano", I realized how much I had become....."The Man At The Piano". Not just in the musical part of my life but also in the day to day grind. Discovering Bukowski at 43 is a very...enlightening experience to say the least. I've always had a lot of the same views about people, society, the 9 to 5, and life in general as Bukowski. Now, they are just strongly REINFORCED.
 
Your writing seems to have purpose to it. I rescind. When you said you discovered Bukowski at 43 that got me to thinking, which is not hard to do. I'm 34 right now and who knows what diamonds in the rough I might yet happen on as time goes by. Growing up right on the edge of the internet and its search-engines, it's easy to feel sometimes like the world has lifted her last and most demurring undergarments, leaving nothing but a full-frontal exposure to the dank jungle below and the wind-blown hills above.

Was it somebody you knew that put a Buk book in your grasp or did you gravitate towards it on a library shelf or have it jump out as you as the #2 return of a google query slightly mispelled?
 
When you said you discovered Bukowski at 43 that got me to thinking, which is not hard to do. I'm 34 right now and who knows what diamonds in the rough I might yet happen on as time goes by.
Yes, I believe that some things just come to a person when they are "ready" or their level of awareness invites it in. I've had this happen a lot in the past 10 years or so. Things that I sort of stumble upon by chance. It's cool, almost an epiphany of sorts when this happens. I don't know that I would have had the same appreciation for Bukowski as a person or for his work at age 20? I guess I can better relate to what he's saying after years of developing many of the same ideas/opinions from my own life and experiences. With the exception of the "drinking part", Bukowski was probably in about the same place as I am right now when he was 43. Dreading each day he had to go to work at his shitty post office job. That's exactly why I'm typing this right now at 11:30 P.M. It's what I call the "Sunday Night Dread". Savoring every minute of the weekend before I return to Hell.

Was it somebody you knew that put a Buk book in your grasp or did you gravitate towards it on a library shelf or have it jump out as you as the #2 return of a google query slightly mispelled?
Sadly, most of the people I know would not understand or appreciate Bukowski. Yes, I come from that much of a culture-less region of the country. Dull, boring, and close minded people. I hopefully won't be criticized for this but my first exposure to Bukowski was "Born Into This". There again, up late one night dreading the next day, flipping through the documentary section of Netflix and for some odd reason I clicked on it. I was immediately hooked and fascinated by this old guy reading poetry and these other people telling their stories about him. He had a tone that reminded me of my old man when he used to have a few in him and would talk about real shit. That sort of somber, "digging deep into his soul" tone that he goes into.
The story of Bukowski quitting his job and completing the first novel "Post Office" in a few short weeks really interested me. I bought the book the next day and read it in a weekend. Been hooked ever since. The nice thing is knowing that I have plenty of good reading material ahead of me with this recent discovery.
 
He had a tone that reminded me of my old man when he used to have a few in him and would talk about real shit. That sort of somber, "digging deep into his soul" tone that he goes into.

good line. My old man talks about real shit too sometimes. The paradox of real talk is that its reassuring to hear it, but it weighs on you to know it. Eventually you move away from the old man and find that there's nobody talking real any more. You can get it from published art in a way but it's different when somebody is actually in the room talking to you.

It's what I call the "Sunday Night Dread". Savoring every minute of the weekend before I return to Hell.

One of the parts that gets me the worst (and that i respect about your post) is that most people are too numb and/or fearful and/or brainwashed to even acknowledge that their jobs/etc are dead ending. Seems to me that if everybody woke up in the morning, looked in the mirror and said 'well, another day at a shit job' and then said the same to their spouses, kids, etc., the world would be a much better place.

You ever get any writing done? Post some links if you got em, I'd read your stuff.
 

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