Local Coffee Shop
Saturday. Ms. Emmy has returned from another of her journeys into the flat panel television set in the living room. I didn't see her leave, but it's usually when a favorite cat food commercial comes on and she will remain wherever it is that she goes for five or ten minutes returning without apparent harm. I've wondered if she has a sister in a parallel universe who carrys on a simultaneous conversation with the manager of a local “cat house” somewhere nearby, but I catch myself and realize I've obviously been influenced by Haruki Murakami's recent book After Dark and my reference to a sister cat, in any case, won't resonate with anyone who hasn't read the book. No upside in mentioning it at all, of course: you put yourself in danger of social isolation, in danger of landing in the local government run readjustment center for the rest of your hallucinatory existence. I prefer remaining in the hallucinatory readjustment center that is my apartment. So I really didn't mention it at all, now did I Ms. Emmy?
I walked down the way to breakfast at the usual café this morning sometime after nine and wandered back through the farmer's market under the freeway across from the Grand Lake theater thinking I'd buy tomatoes, apples and maybe plums which I didn't. Buy them. Look at the upside, I didn't pick up one of the rotisserie chickens or a packet of the chicken fat soaked potato pieces either, so maybe it's a draw. I'll make a trip this coming week to the produce section at Safeway. This, I feel, is more than enough attention to one's diet in a world where everyone talks about their diet while gaining, gaining, gaining. Could it be the lives we are living here at the leading edge of modern existence are not conducive to our good health and longevity? Does retirement make it any better? Could be. Seems to. So far.
So it's one in the afternoon as I write, time to start the day. Breakfast, for some reason, isn't the start. Breakfast, then a look at the computer, then a nap, then another look at the computer, then I'm ready to start. My head is clearer by noon, the outside air seeming to help, walking seeming to help, although it's a tussle to get me out the door until whatever it is inside needs to get itself out the door, and then I'm gone, heading for adventure at a local coffee shop. Here in Oakland.
|
