Later. It's now one in the afternoon having spent these last hours futzing with two wireless video cameras I've had for some time but haven't used for months- they're neat, they work and, essentially for me here, they're useless toys- setting them up for the new IP addresses and such required by the changed DSL connection. A matter of going back to the manual and remembering what I've forgotten since the last time I set them up.

I have one sitting on my living room ledge pointed at the street which, watching it, given our lack of traffic, is like watching cement set. I'd say grass grow, but there's no grass out front, just cement. The video cam inside the apartment shows me sitting at the computer or in the living room, sitting in a chair watching television, both of which are worse than watching cement set. So that's how I've used my “getting up today full of energy” time so far. I think a walk is in order. Squeeze at least something out of it before it goes away.

Later still. A bus downtown, a “medium” sized bowl of turkey chili and a sourdough roll for lunch in the City Center making a note to myself “medium” is too big. First time I can remember where a not overly large bowl of chili was too big to eat in one sitting. Just a mental note. I'll remember. It wasn't much of a chili, turkey chili.

Nothing too exciting otherwise. Drop by the pharmacy to have a prescription renewed, a hobble (this gimp right leg really does need rest or it's not going to get better, not the way I've been treating it, evidently) down Broadway to catch a bus back to the apartment. Here now listening to the news in the background. The news makes a good background for practicing your guitar. Why? Because most anything, including the XM blues channel, makes a good background for practice. I can miss a note as easily no matter what's playing.

Are we bitter?

We are sitting here with two booklets of pop songs that arrived in the mail today, both of them about rhythm as opposed to melody, chords as opposed to notes. I was thinking I'd ordered notes as opposed to chords and I'm a little frustrated (at myself), but they're not expensive and I do need to work on my chords. A shame not to have one's chords in hand at my age, anyway. Or do I go too far?

That chord you hear in the background is the sound of one hand clapping. You need to slow down.

I'm already hobbling. Any slower and I'll be going backward. Sometimes I think I am.

Even later. A two hour nap after the above. Feeling suddenly tired and fuzzy, to bed to get a little rest about four-thirty, awakening at seven. Interesting. The head is back together, though. I don't think I was experiencing an ocular migraine of some kind, it's hard to tell, but back to the living and, I think, more time on this guitar.