Handle Much Else
Saturday. Another misunderstood date for a parade. The Cherry Blossom Parade is not today, it's tomorrow. This is good, since I still feel like a train wreck, but it does provide a less subjective idea of how the brain is doing, how it's been handling the day to day. Not good to show up for a parade on the wrong day. Embarrassing. Worrying. I don't think it's the brain itself in some grim age related deflation, but rather a side product of this self absorption with the cough and sinus-head stuff that seems to have taken over these last several months. OK. I got the x-ray. I can call the doctor again next week if this continues into a third week.
It's early, but I can already feel the need for a nap, the National Bed Races taking place in San Francisco will just have to take place without me unless the world flips on its axis between now and noon. National Bed Races. Sounded interesting when I first heard of it and put it on the calendar.
Breakfast at the usual place, not able to eat the country potatoes (what's that about?), got a single cup of coffee down. Read the papers, drove back home, lay down on the bed to listen to the radio in familiar half awake, half asleep, suspended animation. I don't think I have to explain “suspended animation”. Everyone must have developed their own close relationship to it. Might describe it in different words, perhaps, but the experience I have to think is universal. Naps. Nice. Coughs. Less nice. Bibble. Babble.
Later. A walk over to the lake similar to the walk I managed day before yesterday to sit on one of the new benches by the white columns where a dojo of some kind had set up card tables, were giving speeches and playing drums while their members participated in two's in a kind of martial arts ballet. Lots of tri-angular flags with a small printed dove of peace. My head was clipping along at a mind bending half mile an hour, sitting there like a lump, but managed a couple of pictures. One of those days where you know your eye is flat and you're just raising the camera to document the fact.
A nap when I returned. I read an article in the Atlantic on the Kindle, read two more in the Harper's that had arrived in the mail. Something about EMF radiation, one of them, the thought cell phones might cause brain tumors. Yes, I'm familiar with that, but this was about EMF radiation in general and talked about WiFi emitters, cell phone towers and flat panel displays. I started thinking about all the time I spend in front of this flat panel graphics monitor. Is it like staring into a microwave oven? Maybe I'll go back and re-read that section. Maybe I'll just put it out sight.
Later still. OK, we're into the early evening. Let's see how it goes, how much sleep I get tonight, see how that parade plays out tomorrow. It's an easy one: get on BART, get off BART and there you are. Walk around in front of San Francisco City Hall taking pictures as the parade forms, get back on BART about the time it starts. He who cannot handle that cannot handle much else.