Somewhere, the easier day is shining down in someone else, rays of glory and beauty piercing clouds and landing on folk with epiphanies and breakthroughs and lottery numbers, or maybe just encouragement against long odds and low opinions and difficult, newly darker nights. I bet it’s the antipodes.
Rain dawdled and dragged its heels before shrugging off cloud cover and committing to the bit, right before a sit-down on the same block where I took it in the teeth twentysome years ago. The gig was also good then, but a few things are better even as other stuff has (been) worsened, maybe even me.
In the middle of a Castro lined with rainbow flags, an actual rainbow pierced the fog, shimmering down and appearing to land along 17th Street, where a boat tram took several dozen of us on a long ride along cable car routes with groovy tunes soundtracking camera flashes and cheers from onlookers.
The old grounds look different. I can stop by the business that’s needled me up for nearly a decade or the one that twisted my locks nearly two decades ago for a trim and shapeup, drive by my old place and newsroom, ride around the lake. But everything hits (or misses) differently, shikata na gai.
A short list of things I could always but have only recently decided to do: not miss out on a friend’s concert; talk back to the cat when she insists it’s time for bed; ponder gratitude journal entries’ shape and trajectory; weigh a vacation while thinking about another; sleep and wake up on camera.
Showing up to the party flyer a day late’s a neighborhood sport, if not national pastime. Sure, some sense of acceptance: You wouldn’t have had enough in the tank to stay out or up late; the genres are often better curated and consumed solo than playlisted in public. Hipster, be real with thyself.
Not enough sleep, too much caffeine, but midweek may find me wanting. Interesting callbacks to an early job working a lobby and front counter as a teen; then again, waiting until late to eat dinner meant a missing meal item. At least the cat’s happy, hanging out until hunger and restlessness hit.
An early ride for a not so early (nearly an hour late) flight, followed by a trip back into the city after missing out on late shenanigans to a church whose doorstep I didn’t do much as darken before a visit someplace where my phone was scared straight offline. A full day, with a big thing up in the air.
Spent most of the day outside, shaded for a bit by bamboo in a metal bin in an urban garden, and then in a block coned and barriered off for a block party. It was good to be anyplace, even as weather wore me down and I wound up out of position for the day’s wildest story, but the needful beckoned.
Stay in, stay out, rest. Fret. Putter. Drink water, read, look in on work that by all rights can wait until tomorrow. Punt on the call. Listen to the new Duran Duran album. Bookmark two dozen albums to listen to over the next few weeks. Consider making a haircut and maybe another thing happen soon.
