Monday, September 24, 2012

The Good Old Days


The only car I ever truly loved: My 1974 Triumph TR-6, which after three clutches and nearly 200,000 miles decided not to run anymore. This was taken in '76 I believe and sent to me by my nephew (in the jump seat behind my niece in the front). Beside him, barely seen, is my youngest son and in the back, my oldest. My nephew and niece's Granddad is leaning on the car and I'm behind the wheel.

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Online Dating Part III


As I continue my chronicle of my online dating experience, increasingly I am beginning to understand that I haven't "grown up," or "grown up" the way most women to whom I'm attracted have. On the other hand, perhaps my "frame of reference" just isn't in sync.
There, of course, is the "car issue," my "Grand Experiment," which ended this will for my own convenience rather than social issue: I bought a car.
The upside of the "Grand Experiment" is that I never stop being astounded by the opposite sex and not necessarily in a positive way. In fairness, a couple of women responded and I met them. However, as I'm more than a bit chary of "dating" these days, neither would have worked out for me, as I think I've pointed out in earlier posts.

It's interesting how some view themselves: "individualistic," "casual," "laid back," low maintenance," "sophisticated," "romantic" and "seeking a long-term relationship." When I read those charactistics I can think nothing but "Where have you been all of my life?" Then, far more often than not I go on to read that they're not so "sophisticated" as to have moved into even the 20th century with regard to driving or picking up a date; "casual" doesn't mean grabbing a burger and talking for hours, "romantic" often means "five-star dining" or "five-star hotels," and "laid back" means "casual Friday," in almost the strictest sense possible.

All of that said, I had contacted a woman who responded that we should get together this weekend, either yesterday or today. We corresponded via email and she said she'd pick place for coffee or a drink. Never heard from her again. Whether or not it would have "worked out into a relationship" isn't really the point. However, she was remarkably interesting and sounded quite intelligent with a wide range of interests; attractive as well.

But all worked out for me, as I had a rather social weekend in any event.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Shame On The Media

Shame on the LA Times for the Page One photo of Ambassador Stevens dying, and on the Huffington Post for it's excuse to run under the headline: "Papers Run Graphic Photo Of Christopher Stevens, Ambassador Killed In Libya."

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

CLEPSYDRA

Water through the water’s clock,
Merciful fluid
Through ships’ harpings,
Salt-billow
& the tide’s warped spring;
water,
water measures everything.

At 6 I found a river,
ran half-way up
& back again, but never
knew its name.
In swimming, why must I make
a floating reference
to myself? Why not take
what currents that I can
with clever steering?
The reflections that I make
is the river’s face,
its nose ripples
& its chin. the cause:
a stone I tossed;
effect: a momentary loosening.
Water,
water measures everything.

Water through the human frame,
spit & sweat.
It is not tears I name,
but feelings that swam away
in a fevered spray
of one warped spring.
Water,
water measures everything.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

A Good Day


I suspect that most would view my day as at least modestly, if not wholly pedestrian. It was a simple day during which I had planned to do nothing, simply nothing that even resembled work of any sort: No housecleaning, no laundry, no cooking…nothing.

It's rare when a bolt of compulsion doesn't hit me to move something about during the day. But today, well, it was different. It wasn't a typical Sunday when I watch "Meet the Press" and "Face the Nation," the only two news shows I ever watch. To hear Mitt Romney prattle on would be akin to taking an Ambien; and Bob Schieffer wasn't going to be on "Face the Nation," so no great commentary would occur on that show.

Rex and I took a long walk, well mostly he took the long walk or "run," as we went early to the dog park where he and about a half dozen of his friends chased balls. He does pretty well for a fellow who just turned 11 and a grand time they had before the heat came up on us and I took him home.

Rex is a special fellow who, as he's grown a bit older, has developed his own routines. Three times a day, at about 9, noon and 4 he must visit his friends in the apartment complex clubhouse. His friends are the two or three women who manage the complex; then, of course, as he leaves he seeks new ones, or ones he already knows. My firm belief is that he's running for office.

I decided to watch a couple of movies and read virtually all day. I've got about 400 DVDs (my firm represents a major entertainment company). "Harold and Maude" suited him as he stayed awake for about a quarter of it, but did sleep through "Must Love Dogs," which increasingly is becoming one of my favorites.

I have what some call a somewhat disconcerting ability to watch a movie while reading and today it was a collection of Alice Munro short stories. For me, she's the best living short story writer around, replacing John Cheever who remains great, but died some years ago.

There was a bit of guilt in me while reading the book (and oddly, I have the hard cover, as opposed to having it on my Kindle), as I'm about three weeks behind on The New Yorker, which I consider to be the best publication in the world. I do read the news section when it comes, however.

There were few interruptions during the day in the way of phone calls, which is unusual. I heard from my oldest son and oldest granddaughter (3 years). He suggested that we "Skype" regularly. I wondered why we hadn't thought of that before, as I use the process for clients. I wonder also if it isn't nice to leave something to the imagination, what Abigail is doing while on the phone: bouncing a ball, tormenting the cat. She was quite happy to see Rex though.

So, all in all, not a bad day, in fact, if I take my constant, though low level continuing concern about the way of the world out of it all, it was a good day.