He May Be
Friday. Yesterday was slow, I think I mentioned that. This morning has started just fine, thank you. So we'll call this somewhat herky jerky recovery from an operation successful, but in fits and starts leading me finally to the edge of doing some things I've been thinking about for some time. But then again I think and think and write and write and never somehow do. Why have I no shame?
That's not a question you need to ask when you keep an online journal.
True, so true. I've recently had thoughts of upping the bar in the writing here in the journal. Not sure if I'll do anything with it, but I once wrote a humor column for my university paper and I can still remember what it takes to reel in a reading audience. It takes effort. It takes imagination. You've heard such terms as “thinking outside of the box?” (Yeah, makes me cringe too.) Do I want to do that? How about my artandlife site?
How about it?
I have time. I have (I think) the energy. I'm coming off a period that's warned me at a visceral level that times are coming soon enough when I'll feel the way I've felt for these last nine weeks every day for the rest of my life. I've read the stories. I've heard the stories. Getting old has its downside and feeling like crap is just for starters. So if I don't do it now, when?
You're pretty lazy.
True, but most of what I'm talking about I like to do. If I up the bar on the writing the worst thing that can happen is it doesn't last or I fail. I'm not particularly sensitive to either. Same with the photography. I don't have to be the best, don't have time to make that happen anymore even if I had the talent, but there's are all kinds of fun you can have futzing around.
Later. A good lunch with Mr. McQ at Breads of India, he returning to Salem tomorrow morning, I sitting here drinking water to dampen the sour feeling in the esophagus after eating the chicken vindaloo curry. Those familiar with vindaloo understand they can be very hot for an American palate, but this one was well toned down for the locals. Still, more than I've done in a while, best to drink the water and chill. Here in Oakland.
The weather warm, by the way, a bit too warm here in the apartment after walking, but nothing to complain about unless this can be considered complaining. Maybe bring out the fan, sit and watch the News Hour on television, consider the day done at three in the afternoon. A sensible idea, I'm a thinkin’.
Oh, the guy in the Borsalino. Have no idea who an idiot like he may be.