Ah, busy morning ahead. So far, flush out right ear (well wth, who reads this rubbish learns the disgusting life of an octogenarian male). Glass of hot HoneyLemon water, cup of black with chicory. No chocolate by this chair in the livingroom by the Bay, it’s by my chair in the other room and backup stash in the pantry, need to correct that. Open MacBook and quickly scan email, read a fascinating composition and reply. With obsessively sick mind compare pics and specifications of 1930 Buick, Marquette and Viking. Momentarily, shave, shower, dress, drive to Linda Avenue to check out Holy Pavilion, walk, gulp morning cardioPills at eight o’clock, go to six-monthly doctor appointment. Home for breakfast, what? maybe eggs, scrambled with cheese if Linda does it for me, fried egg sandwich if I cook it myself.
What else then, what next? Read email, avoid National News although shunning it by no means removes my responsibility for what is done in my name as an American. Maybe exchange emails with couple of friends who’ve been where I’ve been, know where I am, remember and understand.
Instead of a 1935 car, this is a 2017 Bugatti Chiron. It will set you back two point seven million dollars. Remembering Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, don’t let your teenager drive it to school.
Two point seven Mil, ayfsm? Whatever would Ettore think?