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January 1, 2012

Really Want To Hear

Sunday. I was close to sleep when I heard the fireworks in the distance (and the automatic pistols, unfortunately - you hope they're blanks or they're not shooting randomly into the air) signalling midnight, the New Year upon us. Awoke as if the alarm had been set, went immediately back to sleep and ended getting up at seven-thirty feeling reasonably good. I'd stayed up last night to watch the weekend hour long Korean soap at ten - still the same old crap, don't really need to see it again (he said) - hence bed at eleven. A good excuse to get in my time on the guitar, though. We give ourselves (the editorial “ourselves”) an offsetting credit for that.

There is no editorial “ourselves”.

There is now.

To breakfast, wondering if they were open, figuring, if they weren't, the restaurant next door would be open as they'd been open for Christmas, but I was lucky, they were indeed open (at eight instead of six) and breakfast was had, the papers were read (too many 2011 recaps for my taste, but what the hell, at least they're still in business), home now at ten.

I suspect my coming year needs to be different than this last year has been. I need to make the changes I've been mulling over and mumbling about. I say that half seriously, but half seriously is pretty serious with me. I don't often do things half cocked, but I am capable of major changes in a half serious state if I review my past.

Why don't you just say you're going to make a change or two?

Not sure. Lazy? Could be. Not willing to be direct? With myself? Probably. Who knows? It's ten in the morning on a New Year's Day. Most sensible people haven't even brushed their teeth yet.

Later. It's well after three, having returned from the morning restaurant where I sat, drank coffee, watched passers by and had lunch. A BLT with avocado and potato salad. They make a decent potato salad, although I'm never able to finish all of it. My definition of “a little”, as in, “please bring me just a little”, isn't their definition, not by a long shot. I did enjoy just sitting on their patio for a while in the shade, the day sunny and warm (for a winter day in California).

Setting out walking, the vision was a little tricky, nothing too serious, but something to think about. I'm wondering if it's just that now the mornings are going to be funky, not uncommon they say as you get older. Feel pretty good now that it's the middle of the afternoon, my guess is it will hold through the rest of the evening as it most often does. I don't know many people my age well enough to ask, I'm not in a situation where I meet people young or old anymore. No complaints, that could be fixed with some effort. I think. New territory here you understand.

Still, a decent walk, a photograph or two along the way looking for silhouettes and such, a wedding party being photographed at the white columns. I say a wedding party, but probably a photo session before the wedding day: the couple, two video photographers, a still photographer and an assistant. No brides maids that I could see, but what the hell, I wish them well, they're probably going to need it.

Some guitar now maybe with the news droning in the background. Think about my New Year's resolutions or, more accurately, not think about them and see what pops into mind. The mind might not be paying attention, but the body is. The subconscious, the soul, whatever is preferred in this day and age. I'm easy about nomenclature if it doesn't lead to proselytization.

Which means?

I have no idea what I should do in this coming year except I more than suspect I need to do something. Some exploration is in the cards, sooner than later, lest I let it expire.

Evening. Ten has come and eleven is on the way as I'm watching to The Concert For George. A much better choice than that Korean soap. How long has it been since I've listened to it in an evening, played the CD, played the lp? I've had the thought that unwinding from these last three decades of silliness takes a while longer than I imagined as the damage was greater than I'd realized and if I might not end up listening to music (even some of the new music) again. Not with the intensity I did once, you can't have everything, but with some real pleasure and more often. If I do it may tell me something about these last three decades I don't really want to hear.

A bicycle stand near Lake Merritt last week taken with a Nikon D3s mounted with a 24-120mm f 4.0 Nikkor VR lens.