Just For Starters
Tuesday. A run by the dealer to have the Element serviced this morning at seven - check another item off the “to do before leaving for Portland” list - breakfast then at the usual place, back now, the sky overcast. Things to do today - not many, nothing any rational person would even think about - so maybe I'll get them done. My next door neighbor will be taking care of Ms. Emmy again, I hope she doesn't freak if Emmy continues with her current aversion to every kind of cat food on the planet. On the list: another run to the pet store for more of every which kind.
Later. Time passes quickly on a computer screen, does it not? Listening to the usual stuff at the moment on the radio, the usual urge to turn it off. I've always thought the only way to do “real writing” was to do it without distraction, to write in silence. I believe I gave an exception to music when I was writing in the seventies every morning on a schedule, but I suspect I was probably wrong. Everybody I knew listened to music twenty-four seven in the seventies. I'm sure, thinking of the number of iPods I see on the street, people my age then are listening in the same way today.
Unless they aren't.
Ah, yes. Reality. I know nothing about younger folks listening habits, writing habits (except for one or two) and, in looking at this copy of American Photo that's just arrived, the photo habits of today's real photographers, yesterday's or tomorrow's. Still, the words come off the keyboard quite easily and it reads nicely, if you're not too picky or a reality freak.
In addition to American Photo, a magazine with problems of its own, I received a copy of Men's Vogue. I didn't subscribe to Men's Vogue, only vaguely knew it existed until maybe three months ago when it started to arrive. Why? The only thing I can think is it's a complimentary subscription sent through my local public broadcasting station as a perk for sending them money. Perhaps Men's Vogue thinks I'm in a demographic their advertisers might want (he gives over a certain magic number of dollars every year to his local station) and they're sending these out to people they think will then subscribe when the teaser subscription ends.
Two problems: One, I'm not a demographic they're interested in. I'm too old and, now that I've retired, in the wrong income bracket. Second, living as I do in an apartment building, I'm not sure I want my neighbors to think I'm subscribing to this airy-fairy urban metrosexual mashup that advertises sun glasses with molded maker logos larger than the glass.
As in someone will think you don't like to kiss girls?
Hell, just for starters.