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| Took this picture of a baby desert tortoise today. Not everything sucks, kids. |
A homeless guy walked up to me today. I asked if he was alright (never know what to say to these guys) and he said, "I'll be honest with you. I just got out of prison. I need some money to get out of the rain." I wondered if that works for most people. In my mind, he seemed like a nice guy (ex-con or no), and that speaks louder than his police record or appearance or skin color or the words of the sales pitch he chose.
In other news, all this end of the world talk has got me feeling pretty sorry for myself. I just can't get over it--it's like there's a dark cloud hanging over me, and its name is la vague à l'âme*--but I might have to go for a run despite not living around here or having any running clothes.
I spent nearly the whole day with my twelve year old nephew, and it was a little bit tiring. At one point, he put on a Hip Hop song where a woman sang in baby talk and the chorus was (according to my nephew) "dance monkey dance monkey dance monkey ooooh," and I have to admit, pretty much all of my affection for the boy disappeared in that little stretch of time.
While we were together, he got a text that school has been canceled for the rest of the month. It is hard not to take this a little bit seriously, and ask myself, "What's it all mean, Basil?"
I guess we'll see, sooner or later.
My uncle has all sorts of Trump memorabilia on his gun cupboard, and I briefly considered taking an ironic picture with it. But it felt too shameful to do, even as a joke. I also considered stripping naked for a photo and putting a MAGA hat on my jimmy . . . but again, that little guy's done nothing to deserve such punishment.**
In my uncle's defense, he did say today, "Who needs to hoard toilet paper when I got these?" and he wiggled all ten of his fingers.
So, I did go running tonight, and there was a nice wind and moisture in the air that reminded me of the ocean breeze I always enjoyed in California. And I gotta say, some of my sadness and melancholy did sweat out of me, at least a little. I don't know if it was those released endorphins the health experts are always talking about, or if it was the China Crisis song that I started listening to, and the lyric,
"Take comfort and possession of yourself;
No reason to give up on the illusion."
Either way, that really spoke to me. Some of my loneliness hurt a little less as I heard the line again (and honestly, it could be "take confident possession of yourself," which works too), and thought, "Yeah, this obscure Eighties New Wave band is right: there is no reason to give up on the illusion!" And for a moment, I ran just a little bit harder.
Well, I have no idea what The Arizona Sky is about, except that I love that song almost as much as I love you, whoever is bothering reading this (ironic, considering you're reading it, in the future, with a pulse, and I am by then, long dead). But I'm a fan.
So, lastly, I VERY nearly didn't write today at all. I finished editing the audio version of "Who Can It Be Now?" and was going to send it to my Uncle Len, since he helped inspire it (feel free to buy a text copy HERE, if you're getting desperate). And then I was going to lie down and read, but I could feel myself getting sleepy, and I had a decision to make: do I just go to sleep, knowing I didn't write, but hey, I had a pretty full day anyway? Or do I force myself to get up and not give up on the illusion?
Well, I did the latter, and just wrote for a half an hour or so. And it came out to only eight hundred words, but still, exactly eight hundred words is kind of neat. That doesn't happen every day, like the Arizona sky taking my breath away.
Words Today: 800
Words in March: 16,860
*Not sure why the cloud would speak French, but its pronunciation is much better than mine.
**Last night, my uncle said a most disturbing thing. He said, "You know, Trump should use this Coronavirus thing to declare himself President for another four years. That'd show 'em." Apropos of nothing, I believe it was the Great Prophet who said, "Beauty may be only skin deep, but ugly goes clean to the bone."
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