Friday, March 27, 2015


It has degenerated to a diary, hasn’t it, a daily rehearsal of personal nonsense, tripe and trivia that no longer lights even my own fire. Time to give it up, but gradual or bam? It's a habit addictive as the morning cigarette I never smoked. 

Sitting here on my balcony gazing left, east, the eye tripped first by Mabel’s brick house (nineties, Mabel has been relocated to Tallahassee against her will and fuming), then by Landmark (sticking farther out into the Bay than private property should be permitted), then bounced to the clouds by the city skyline. Friday is dawning, no red in the east, no orange or yellow either, but some thin clouds are white because the sun is shining on them. Cool and pleasant out here, out here and up here, promise of a sublime spring day. 

Tuesday I missed Cardio Chuck, and again this morning because today I must think and do, whereas I come home from Chuck’s sweaty, enervated and collapsing for a nap of untold hours. There was an age when rigorous exercise was energizing, no more. Even the Monday and Wednesday walks are tiring, only the company, conversation and shared memories inspiring.

Okay, I’m a fool for Signs, you know so much, you are so wise, you translate it, what does this sign mean: inexplicably, my picture of a 1916 Hudson touring car 
has popped up on the screen. 

And suddenly, dawn.

I love this place and time.


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