Stopped at the produce store to get something for dinner. The garden
things in front change with the seasons. All those mums for autumn -
the approaching end of summer, time moving on.
Another Wednesday night at home and the nice ritual of watching Survivor with K.
august 4
august 4
Well, enlarging my goals a little to learn things like cascading style
sheets for my project of a real site. In a suburban mall, a software
and book shop that bridges two cd stores - a pretty good place.
Found a CSS book, but the usual problem of so much more than I
need or want to know. Back to the Dummies books and Webmonkey.
Figured between Newbury and Tower I would find my cd's one way or
the other and I did - wicked cheap.
august 5
august 5
Back to the North End and all the Italian restaurants - one whose
wall sized
windows are open, so that nothing separates the tables from the street.
We show up at eight, at least an hour to wait. A small bench for two in
the back by the bar with our Sam Adams and liqueur. Bartenders tend to pour
what I would consider three liqueurs at home, but don't charge that much. The stuff's a little pricey and I wonder if they
know. Idle thoughts.
We're in the third row of tables which all face the street, but we have a view
too of the people in front of us looking out to the street. The guy with a Ferrari
double parked in front, which he keeps his eye on while he eats.
The couple next to them smiling and talking. I want to take a series of pictures
sometime - Boston in Love. I see people in various stages of affection wherever I go. She's wearing a summer dress, just a few straps in the back.
He strokes her back softly while they talk, playing a little with the straps when
his fingers encounter them, cupping a hand protectively on her shoulder. It
suggests a nice closeness, caring and comfort.Always a sweet evening in
this part of town. A warm night and a short walk through BigDig construction
to the car.
august 8
august 8
A middle aged man asks to sit with me in the local Starbucks, apologizing
that the other chairs are taken and waiting for an answer before setting his
coffee on the table. There are other places to sit, but I'm glad if I looked receptive.
He's come down from New Hampshire for work, landscaping I think, and
has a very tanned face and worried blue eyes, a gentle voice. After a bit
I put my pen down. I'm a little blocked anyway, and I know what he wants -
human connection from a kind stranger. I can sense it in others because I
know it in myself.Something is wrong and he just doesn't want to be alone.
We talk about New England, how bad the traffic is to the Cape, how pretty
the shoreline is in Maine, just things to hear another voice. After a few
minutes I get up to leave, and he puts out his hand - "I'm Michael" -
nice to seal connection with touch. "I'm glad you ..." he says, but I
can't make it out. Words like a dream - just beyond reach.
At The Zoo is playing, making nice images pop into my head. Funny how
music is. Because of someone else's choice, my thoughts are
different from what they would have been - a process I like to submit to willingly.
august 9
august 9
I was reminded yesterday of when I was younger and used to get
accused all the time of being naive.
I told my friend about the man in the coffee shop. I took him to
be a little mentally challenged and afraid in places with a lot of people, like some of
the clients I used to have when I worked in mental health. She said,
"it sounds like more of a pick up to me" which took me glumly back to those
frequent naive accusations of the past.
For a person who makes eye contact selectively in public, and wouldn't
have a vanity plate on a car because it's too recognizable, and carefully picks out
cars on the train with plenty of people, I felt a little foolish - again.
"Well, there were lots of people around, he didn't ask personal questions - I
left after five minutes ..." but she still just smiled.
Hard to find the balance between being a little bit of help when someone's feeling alone, and not being
stupid about the whole thing.
Not all strangers are kind. I'll be a little more careful I think.
august 11
august 11
I have an old pair of Doc Martens, kind of anonymous without
the yellow stitching, which get alternated with
three or four other pairs of shoes and boots so I always have something
to walk in as far as I want and as long as I want.
Left the house for a few hours while the pest control guy took
care of a pavement ant problem in the kitchen. Went to the library and
over to a small window table under a sign saying Quiet!! Study Area,
noticing for the first time that my shoes really squeaked in that quiet room.
No matter how I tried to walk they just squeaked - causing irritated
expressions all around me. It reminded me of how drivers in other cars
always pick irritated as their first response too - when no verbal
communication is available.
Got thinking how hard communication is even in-person and verbally - and
how difficult it is whenever there are built in restrictions. Thought of the
relationships in my life that have those built in restrictions, but that still
work and thrive, the trust and closeness and sort of hard work that implies,
and just felt kind of good thinking about it.
Out into the warm sun again, hearing voices around me, thinking of remembered voices.
august 14
august 14
Six people on the way to dinner last night laughing and telling stories.
At the table the talk turns to technology and 4 varieties of Palms appear
comparing applications, and beaming each other Hearts.
Delays all day today and maybe tomorrow that keep me waiting for some
time at the computer to finish what I'm doing. I'm almost done, but I want
to think a little now anyway - I'm a bit worried by things I hear. But
I'm just too sleepy tonight
august 18
august 18
Odds and ends ...
Timing has worked out lately to have long telephone talks with my oldest friend S. Nice to be able to have more contact with her again.
Decided to stop for coffee after a long list of errands, just kind of sitting in one of those overstuffed chairs and looking at the ceiling. An elderly couple talking next to me, the woman's sweet voice and face so at odds with her topic - "That lady who chopped up the body and threw it in the dump is not giving the place a good name." Finished my coffee smiling and started back home.
Found lots of gifts this morning - clever boxes within boxes, intricately wrapped. I took a long time to open them so I wouldn't miss anything.
august 22
august 22
A nice new Leonard Cohen line - you go your way, I'll go your way too.
Arrived at work to find apologies and people sick with bad colds. That's
not good for me right now, so decided to be cautious and leave.
Unexpected found time and perfect weather. Got off the train at Harvard
Square and walked, going into familiar places and exploring new ones,
stopping for a while at a terrace cafe shaded by trees, the hum of voices
all around. The kind of perfect city day that feels so good with someone
else.
No face to look up into to share nice moments, no hand to touch to point
out small discoveries, no face there really, but the strongest sense all day
of having spent it side by side.
august 25
august 25
music notes ...
Found the cd's I wanted, but decided to walk around a little longer. Passed a secondhand shop and saw Car
Wheels on a Gravel Road in the window - that's been on my
list for a while.
Up playing in the shop. The guy at the register says
it's an underappreciated album when I say it's good to hear it again.
I don't know - I used to play it all the time a few years ago, knew all of it.
I remember watching them play a little of this album that was so hard
for them to make, Michael singing in that contorted way he does, his
eyes closed. He kept turning a bit, as if to look over his shoulder again
and again, as if one of those times the person he was missing would be
there, a feeling I have come to understand.
New music to hear on the way home, saving Gravel Road for later - these are a nice sound.
august 26
august 26
Every time, each of those words seems like a light on a
landing strip when you're flying home from someplace far away.
august 28
august 28
Went back to the french cafe and bakery to get some pastries
like the ones for our Survivor party - only this time no flags in
them with the finalists' names.
It's one of those pleasing south of France places, everything decorated in the
bright blues and yellows of that region, friendly staff, french words everywhere,
and it's easy if you have some french to find your brain slipping into it.
Looking at the calendar makes me realize the good
times ahead for french students. Because of the
french habit of saying numbers like ninety-nine as four twenty ten nine, figuring out
dates like 1999 without stopping to think has been hard. But now,
deux mille will be all that is required, not really getting tricky
again until 2070, the passing of time having seemed to take forever, but bringing something clear and easy and good that will last a long, long time. august 29
august 29
After having to think about nasty things all summer, I'm finally
free to think of better things like shopping, and I'm with the right
person. Everything is different here from what we find at home,
and by now we have a routine of shops we check every time.
Mostly we like these now rare times of hours and hours together.
A friend of a friend has written, making me think of Stephen Cummings'
nice music. Such Luck To Be Alive. The odds against it
are so great for anyone. Such luck to be among those present, no further than a few connections from anyone else on earth.
I've found enough for tonight and wait for her in a chair outside the
fitting rooms, watching people do all the interesting things they do,
hearing New York City Boy in the background, letting my thoughts wander.
