Sunday. A walk to my breakfast place around seven-thirty, quite cold in the early morning light, but the sky clear, the sun out now as I type - the lungs better, still congested, but better - and the attitude, all in all, good. No sake last night, even though it was my Saturday evening watching the Japanese soaps - the terminally embarrassing to watch “golden handcuff” series finally ending and replaced by a Japanese police autopsy procedural.
A Japanese police autopsy procedural?
Well, you know, think CSI. Was it suicide or was it murder, only the attractive intrepid police woman with scalpel and DNA kit can tell. Last night's was the first of a two part series, the second half to be shown next week when I'm in Portland, but better than the series it replaced, let me tell you, this one targeted to at least a high school audience, the earlier “golden handcuffs” series targeted at four year olds and somewhat older dim bulbs.
People like thee in other words.
No, no. I do occasionally show shame. I'm going to have to subscribe to cable one day and watch the television everyone else consumes. Go to broadband and get rid of this DSL I bought in the early days when it was the only thing around. Get rid of my AT&T land line, stop paying them all that money every month. Get rid of my slothful ways (the music begins to build here in the background, something strident and forceful) and my carping! Get rid of my carping and my (here the music drowns out what follows, old soldiers jump suddenly from their chairs and the flag appears miraculously in the distance up on a hill)....
You are feeling better.
Indeed. Nothing that will lead to actual get out of my comfort zone action, you understand, but the body feels much like a body again and I'm thinking of getting in the car with a camera and going somewhere after I take a nap.
No need to rush.
Later. A run over to Telegraph next to the University to check out a framing shop only to discover it had either moved or gone out of business. They have another store not too far south of here so I'll give them a call. They have a relatively inexpensive and attractive mount I'd like to use if my morning café actually decides to invite me to display my photographs. Could be the guy who makes their art decisions doesn't cotton to what he sees on artandlife. Would put the waitress who's asked me over the years to consider a show in an embarrassing bind. Life can be amusing in the many ways you can get yourself into an embarrassing bind.