Along With It
Wednesday. Another decent night's sleep. Three now in a row, maybe more, I don't remember. Up examining the state of the head as I was going through the morning routine. Was the head tired, but soon to be clear? Should I run a blood pressure check? A bit obsessive, one might conclude. I do conclude. Felt fine through breakfast, feel fine now. We'll check out the election results as they've come in on the web and then get outside, a grey overcast out there: far from warm, far from cold.
Later. They are busy at the construction site, the sidewalk along Grand blocked off again and a cement truck feeding cement into a delivery tube that's stretched out farther than I could have ever imagined. So pictures and then more pictures from different vantage points.
Back to the apartment to head out again thinking lunch, but not warming to the idea of going anywhere to make it happen. Didn't want to go downtown, didn't much want to go anywhere else and so a walk over to Lakeshore and the ice cream shop to have two scoops of ice cream with a small pieces of chocolate topping as I was thinking about it.
Another customer who'd arrived with his wife and two children as I was eating asked if I were Ron Perlman. This the third time I've been asked if I were Perlman by a complete stranger. If you're going to be taken for someone, I'm not sure he would have been one of my choices as I had to look him up to discover he stars in the movie Hellboy. I've not watched Hellboy, the name and the images I've seen haven't been grabbing.
Does this happen to others? Are you he, are you she? I've been stopped and asked some half dozen times in this last year, never in my life before that. Am I flattered? I'm not sure. More perplexed, I'd say, than anything.
Anyway, back to the apartment, more pictures of the construction site and another attempt at a nap, up to spend more time on the web while listening to the PBS News Hour drone on in the background. I've found The News Hour less satisfying over these last years, but now I realize maybe it's because we Hellboys require more stimulation.
Later still. Another walk, this time to pick up bean dip and Doritos at the 7-11 look-alike (keeping tight control over our most excellent diet), taking the requisite construction site pictures. But no bean dip. How long has it been, this no bean dip? Ah, well. Back empty handed, more pictures from across the street from a better location, home now as evening approaches. There's a Maigret at nine, undoubtedly one I've seen before, although I can't tell from the description in the schedule. Maybe we won't be able to continue our string of not later than ten o'clock bed times.
Evening. Hi, ho. Some guitar, some television, some more guitar, some more television. A look at this so called journal to find the mind is not willing to grasp it. Maybe tomorrow. Maigret coming up, a good excuse to get quite a bit more time in on the guitar if I watch it. But we'll see. It runs an hour and a half, I'm wondering if I'm up for running along with it.
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