Comrades In Arms
Friday. A foggy headed morning wondering what to do that I haven't done before, where to go that I haven't been before and why any of it should make any difference. I'm pretty good at keeping myself amused so why the trouble finding something amusing this morning? Generally I'd go into a lengthy screed about my taking a trip somewhere exotic (for me) for a breath of fresh air and leave it at that, so let's just say I've done it and get on to something else.
There's stuff coming up.
Indeed there's a get together planned of the old Rip Off Press folks toward the end of the month. Be interesting to see who turns up. Friends I haven't seen in years are coming into town around the same time and we've all booked rooms at the same motel in San Francisco to act as a convenient base in setting out to do the town and celebrate (the fact we're both semi-conscious and still alive). Not to mention the Cherry Blossom Parade. One should not forget the Cherry Blossom Parade.
So what's got you down?
I'm not down, I'm in relatively new territory. This head-sinus thing is in the way, but I'm pretty sure it has more to do with a surgeon that got up into my sinus area with a knife than anything to do with growing older, so whatever effects it's having are, you know, the result of happenstance, nothing to do with the restrictions that eventually come with age. Let us not bitch about age until it heads us off at the pass. We are not at the pass. We are entering the pass. We will be in the pass sooner than we like, but we are still riding like a teenager (with a bottle of Viagra in our pocket).
Still, the afternoon is now over and I've had a flask or two of sake to smooth the afternoon. To smooth the evening. I do not believe sake is necessarily a good companion in this new chapter of my life. No problem a couple of flasks in an evening, just as I'd say a couple of glasses of wine are no problem, but why sake? Why am I not setting up the big strobe lights for an evening of taking pictures of, well, potatoes, pasta dishes, peanuts and/or naked ladies laid out on a bed of ruby red radishes? Naked ladies laid out on a bed of ruby red radishes would take a certain amount of effort. I admit it. Pictures of potatoes? Believe me, there are people who will pay for potatoes. Particularly if they're fried. Deep fried. Dipped in mayonaise. Radical red catsup. Ketchup. Food is the primary erotic component of our culture, get with it.
This is all standard stuff: adjust to the day, adjust to retirement, adjust to, well, reality.
Reality is often depressing, that's why we invented the Internet. Invented online journals. Invented books. Movies. Television. Sake.
I believe sake is what started this.
And sake, my friend, seems to have multiple comrades in arms. Here in Oakland.