Goes This Evening
Friday. I managed to get through the first episode of Inspector Lewis and then the first thirty minutes of the second episode before giving up and going to bed last night. To sleep by ten, up with the alarm to head off to breakfast under some overcast, but the sun sneaking in. Another nice day in the city.
Later. A nap and then a walk down to the lake to get out of the apartment. The downtown bus was coming in a minute or two, but I really didn't want to go downtown. Didn't want to go to the morning restaurant, didn't want to go over by the lake, but set out anyway thinking something would come up.
OK, walking, feeling better, around to Lakeshore to find they were a resurfacing the road from Highway 580 on down to Mandana near the bagel shop. Interesting operation. Took a couple of pictures. The bagel shop was sold out of their yogurt parfait, so back all the way around to the morning café for a BLT, ice cream and coffee. I was hungry and threw caution to the wind without a thought.
Not much bacon in a BLT (he said not looking too closely for confirmation), but ice cream is, after all, ice cream: suspect, my waitress giving me about twice as much as you'd normally get in a single serving.
Back to take another nap and to watch another Netflix movie on the computer. I can watch Netflix on the television set as well, but for some reason don't. Anyway, watched (part of) a movie before lying down to let the effects of the BLT/ice cream blow off, if indeed they caused whatever funkiness I was experiencing. Whatever it was it left.
Later still. A story in the Art section of the Times this morning on Gene Clark's 1974 album The Other, how it's evidently become a cult classic over these intervening years, a favorite of some of today's popular groups, although it essentially bombed when it was released. Clark was a founder of the Byrds and the copy I have was a promo copy given when it was released to a mutual friend who'd worked with him at Atlantic, but not one I've played since. Well, not since just now.
I wonder if I'm hearing it differently now than when I heard it those first times I put it on the turntable at the old Rip Off Ranch, if the intervening years of listening to what's come along since have changed the reaction I had so many years past. I liked it well enough then, liked one or two cuts no one else seemed to find interesting for reasons I understood (a bit too cosmic cowboy for an alt-country act). Still, sounds nice, better than I remember. At least it's gotten me into listening to music this afternoon, more than I can say for too many other recent afternoons.
Evening. Two of the Benedict Cumberbatch Sherlock Holmes episodes are playing at eight. I watched the first of two that ran last Friday, bailing on the second as I realized I'd seen it before. We'll see how it goes this evening.