Welcome Back

Elvis was just visiting some family in Seattle, and got back to Brooklyn on Saturday. He decided time was ripe to start a blog about his life here—nothing fancy, but just to write a little bit about his life, what he’s seeing and doing and thinking about.

Elvis has been living with Miss Emma Lee in the Williamsburg section of Marty’s borough for about three years. He likes it all right. Some days are pretty ho-hum: yesterday Elvis stayed at home while Miss Emma Lee painted some pictures and listened to David Fucking Bowie. Then they went to a friend’s house to eat fish tacos (tilapia with lime and avocado, no euphemisms there) with a printmaker, her brother and the guitarist from Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. Another fella brought bourbon from Kentucky and six foot tall drawings, after dinner they all played Rummi-Kub (the guitarist won twice), then Elvis came home. He and Miss Emma Lee listened to the Fruit Bats for a while and then went to bed.

Elvis had a dream about a restaurant themed on the aeronautical program of the 1960s, where you could order pressed sandwiches ($8–10) or a visit from assorted Apollo crew members ($150–350). Elvis was, in his dream, eating with his father, they ordered a split plate of gnocchi and asparagus. He was looking for his waitress about ordering some eggplant as well. Elvis woke up before his food came; he got up and made some coffee he brought back from Seattle. It’s bright out this morning, and cold. Elvis walked to the water, then came back and had another cup of coffee.