Evergreen Review

The most important literary journals of my youth were Evergreen Review, New World Writing and New American Review, the latter two published as paperback books. All the best new writing was there.

Today's mail brought a CD-ROM of the first ten issues of Evergreen Review, and it's the most poorly organized disk I've ever seen. The New Yorker, the complete set of which I own on CD-ROMs, is filled with navigational tools but not here. All they really did is slap down each issue as a PDF. The Oregon Literary Review CD-ROMs retain all links, and I know it would not have been difficult to create some basic contents files for their disk. I'm delighted to have the material, of course, but what a lazy job of putting it together.

And what a gorgeous day! Our outdoor thermometer reads 78 and we'll usually a tad cooler than elsewhere. We had lunch outside at the Corbett Fish House ... iced tea and I had their unusual specialty, chile-fried catfish. We both had marionberry ice cream for dessert.

I love outdoor tables at cafes. Many youthful adventures began at one. Indeed, I met my dear deceased friend, the poet Ger Moran, at an outdoor cafe that used to be in NW at 21st and Lovejoy. I was sipping gin and tonics and enjoying the afternoon. He and a lady sat nearby, having lunch. Finally he came over and asked if I were Charles Deemer, the playwright. Ends up his girl friend was a fan. Ger was working in Seattle at the time, a banker by trade (shades of Wallace Stevens) but getting ready to move to Portland. He'd been an actor in SF, a theater person, so we hit it off well, and when he did move down I took him under my wing and he became part of the unofficial writers' club at Nobby's. I never laughed so much in my life as when sitting around a table drinking with six or eight bright writers, all letting loose with one-liners it was hard to keep up with. Ger fit right in.

A forecast revision has more good weather tomorrow. Hope so! I can finish mowing the lawn, half of which I did earlier today.