I read the Nation, the liberal weekly. It’s so tiresome and predictable. They don’t like George Bush – big surprise. Yes, Bush is fairly easy to criticize, but the Nation crew has no alternative to offer. They support “diversity.” If they supported “unity” then they might bring people together and gain in power.
(Unity is good. It’s uniformity which is bad.) And the Nation support minorities, which is why they can never achieve a Majority.
Then I read Newsweek, but they didn’t have George Will, so I was disappointed. They had Anna Quindlen – why this woman became a successful national columnist I will never know. She writes about “how we all feel.” It is so common and treacly. Of course George Will is pomposity itself, but he can be quite good despite that.
The Infinite Choice of Isabel Allende, this is her novel, only it’s called The Infinite Plan, whatever – I like it. I’m off of non-fiction, all those political and historic books that I usually read. Stuff that gets you trying to figure things out. It’s too much work. I just want a good story.
Eva and Carolyn are in the Living Room. Eva is my daughter. Carolyn is my older sister by two years. They have been reading quietly, but it’s , time for an hour of TV and then to bed. Tom, my older brother by four years, is in his bedroom with the lights on and the door closed, listening to the radio. I’m back here in the Crafts Room, sitting at the old dining room table. Our Mom and Dad bought this dining room table in 1946, the year they bought the house. The table sat in the dining room for fifty years, until Mom died, in 1996. Carolyn brought it out to
Geena Davis is the President. On her new show, “Commander in Chief.” But she’s got nothing on Martin Sheen in West Wing. Women are over-rated.
The car radio was broken. I found this out last night and I was really bummed. I just sat there in the car punching the buttons over and over again. Then I came in the house and Carolyn could see I was down. She said, “Forget about it. Take another look in the morning.” But I had to go through hours of process, to reach the point of accepting a car with no radio. Finally I got to sleep.
In the morning I went out and tried again – no radio. Okay, that’s life. But then I noticed – no clock either, and then no cigarette lighter either (I use the lighter to charge my cell phone) – so it must be a fuse. Easily fixed. I’m the Macho Man. I can do things. I can take care of business.
But then – stupid – I forgot and I left my car parked in front of Carolyn’s house, which on Wednesday between and 11 a.m. – is a big No-No. Clearly stated on the parking signs, if you bother to read them – because that’s when the street sweeper comes by, and the Meter Maid comes right behind the big machine. And me, hick from the sticks, I didn’t notice. I got a $45 parking ticket. Welcome to
But then Eva and I went to beach at – me happy about fixing the radio and bummed because of the $45 parking ticket. My wise daughter said, “Detachment, Dad. Let it all go.”
The sand was hot. The sun was toasty. The water sparkled. The pelicans were cruising like Cadillacs going for burgers. It doesn’t get any better. I danced in the foaming waves. I rolled and tumbled and jumped for joy.
Looking for a Date. I listed myself on craigslist.org on the section “Men Seeking Women.” I wrote a come on. I got three responses. The best one was a woman named Eileen who said she was artsy and “subtly sexy.” She also lives a 15-minute walk from here. It’s so easy to meet comely women in