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October 26th, 1999
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I'll Hum It Anyway
A curious day or at least a curious state of mind. I feel clear headed and peaceful, a condition, I guess, that could or would or should be called success. No little yapping distractions, the weather cool without being cold, the oak trees along Broadway deep in shade except for their tops glowing in the late afternoon sun. Postcard stuff. Time to sit back, eat a good dinner and watch television.
The thoughts aren't so jittery. Spacy, but not jittery. I have friends at work, I don't have friends
at home and I've made friends through this journal. Nothing wrong with that, but is it enough? It's one thing to be a loner when you're twenty six and it's another thing to be a loner when you're fifty six. I think. The stats on loners aren't good. But who knows? This night I'm in the zone and all alone and floating on a black lagoon, blood warm and waiting for something or nothing or both. Nice day on the water. Flicking at a fly with my fingers. Mind drifting. A gentle tug on the side of the boat. Eyes now open. Another, less gentle tug on the boat and SUDDENLY OUT OF THE RIVER CLIMBING UP OVER THE SIDE OF MY BOAT IS THE CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON! All green and slimy and nasty and looking me over like a lamb chop. One minute I'm floating, barely thinking, wondering about art and life and caffé latte and suddenly I'm laid out in the lap of OPPORTUNITY!
(Cold cock the Creature, lay him out in the bottom of the boat, cover him with the tarp so he doesn't get all sunburned, get back to shore. Think not of an every day Marine World theme park in this low rent adventure my bucko, but a big bucks one of a kind get your tickets at the door Creature World! The mind. It boggles.)
One man's problem is another man's opportunity and that's the problem. The solutions I've noticed do not seem to present themselves by climbing over the side of your boat or crawling up over your windowsill wearing little badges that say opportunity knocking! or duck!. They come, they hang out, they travel on, and if you don't notice them, they won't notice you. A million or two bucks and a blond rolled on through my life that way. Don't ask me which I miss the more. Or if I miss either at all. It was a distracting decade, the weather was hot and there were other things to contemplate.
There's a song that described it all:
She was a working girl
North of England way.
Now she's hit the big time
In the USA
And if she could only hear me
This is what I'd say.
Honey pie you are making me crazy
I'm in love but I'm lazy
So won't you please come home
I'm in love but I'm lazy (and you've made me half crazy) so won't you please come home (catch a plane, rent a car, wear dark glasses cause you're a star and don't block my truck when you park in back, park it next to the railroad track). There's a chicken in the oven and the sheets were washed (just last month when I did the towels). The rugs aren't so hot, but they're dark and they don't show the dirt except in the late afternoon light. So I'll miss yet another million and yet another blond, (because she's a brunette, dummy) and I'll think this tune and hum along. And for those of you who don't know the tune, well, I'll hum it anyway.
This isn't making a lot of sense. Is it.
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The photographs were taken at the Solano Stroll. For some reason I think I've run the banner photograph before. Perhaps I scanned it and it didn't turn out so I ran something else. Perhaps I really did run it and I can't find it. I'll look tomorrow.
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