In The Future
Another lunch on the company, this time at Everett and Jones, a ribs place near Jack London Square. Near as opposed to in Jack London Square. There are restaurants in Jack London Square, but they're somewhat pricey. One or two have nice menus but they're not places where you'd necessarily eat every day. Unless you're more solvent than I and sit in a corner office, which is more than possible. I haven't really been solvent for the last half century.
My thought of retiring next year has stuck. Wouldn't hurt to plan, now, would it? Really plan and get ready? Who knows if it's possible? Shoot a few pictures on the side, write a little copy, live in a trailer under a highway near a town in the desert. That is the American Dream, is it not? Sam Sheppard, Erskine Caldwell, Tennessee Williams? Didn't they all write plays about people who live in trailers under highways near towns in a desert?
I'm not being altogether flippant. What do I need other than a bedroom, a living room, a desk (with a computer and a DSL connection) and a closet to store the cameras? And a car to go a travelling? Could easily as not be under a highway near a town in the desert. I don't think I'd like to live in a desert, but somewhere up north, somewhere it doesn't get too hot in the summer or cold in the winter. Doesn't require all that much overhead, what with the cost of cornflakes and digital film.
And (and this is where this is going) it gives me a light at the end of the tunnel. I've been looking for a light at the end of the tunnel. It gives me a reason to clear out the storage locker, get rid of the books, buy a car (you need a car when you live in the desert), construct a budget, put a spring in my step when I walk to the office (because there's a light in sight, an end not so far in the future).