What's Time To A Hog?

Carefully holding on, skipping steps four and eight that creak, mornings I come down stairs, counting semiconsciously because of years and habit. Eighteen steps down stair carpet onto the hard wood of the dining room floor. Swing left to glance at the front door. Porch light is on, dehumidifier hums. Walking to the door, I glance out to see the PCNH by the street. Don shoes, RSF&PTL.

Front porch light is on. And the insidious sprinkler. What about the bear? No, the bear came three times, moving authorities to put him down. Careful: avoid the waterstream and mind the steps, eight by count. Down the concrete path, look out across the Bay: green light. Tacet.

The article continues to hit on:
http://www.cnet.com/news/most-men-would-rather-shock-themselves-than-daydream-study-says/
What fool would rather shock himself than daydream? Surely not me? Trying to not reach for my iPhone, I think of Dr. Strangelove forcing his saluting arm back down. To dream, or to check my email?

To the sixties with The Monkees.

Before cellphone salute set in, there were moments when Linda would look across the room and ask, “What are you thinking about?” Startled out of a waking doze, I always said, “Nothing.” It was never nothing was it, it was always something, wasn't it, if only silent absence. Daydreams are personal, “penny for your thoughts” is No Sale, but dreams are toast because wherever two or three are gathered together, all are clutching a smartphone.

Challenged by the article's notion that I'm waving the white flag in the war of wits with cellphone, I think of The Monkees. I still have the temperament. Temperament and Place.

MLP adjacent to the public parking area at the Bay end of Calhoun Avenue, I have no bench there to attract sitters leaving rubbish for me to pick up. So I have a lightweight folding chair to carry down to MLP when I mean to dream.

How long to stay? My watch was retired long ago along with calendar. For time control I rely on the iPhone in my pocket. But if iPhone goes to MLP, Dr. Strangelove must be restrained every few seconds as the right arm strikes the breast in salute. Time?

Oh, I could hide 'neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings
The six o'clock alarm would never ring
But it rings and I rise wipe the sleep out of my eyes
The shavin' razor's cold, and it stings

Cheer up, sleepy Jean, oh what can it mean
To a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?

You once thought of me as a white knight on his steed
Now you know how happy I can be
Oh, and our good times start and end without dollar one to spend
But how much baby do we really need?

Cheer up, sleepy Jean, oh what can it mean
To a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?

Cheer up, sleepy Jean, oh what can it mean
To a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?
Cheer up, sleepy Jean, oh what can it mean
To a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?

Cheer up, sleepy Jean, oh what can it mean
To a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?