Day Diary – 11/14/2024
Sugar-free now, day 6. Morning headache tested this and I did break my no Diet Coke rule (also 6 days going), but that’s ok.
My wife is up soon after me. That means NPR will be on. I love NPR and value it deeply, but I just can’t think about the election and what’s to come right now. The clown car is being assembled (not to insult actual clowns with that name, but at least they know they are clowns and no one gets hurt). We are going to find out how low we can go.
I can’t do the New York Times puzzles today. I want to but I’m just not feeling it yet.
In the shower, I think of some new ideas for my upcoming new course on art ideas and hurry down afterwards to get them recorded before they slip away from my mind. That reminds me it is Diary Day, and after failing a few times to report in, I’m renewing my commitment.
The day holds more thinking on this upcoming course, a meeting in a museum, and…. wait for it… picking up the vacuum from the repair shop! Readers, be thy not of jealous mind here.
I type these notes.
I’m trying to eat better, so, no more Mega-size Honey Bunches of Oats. Instead, I make a smoothie full of spinach, berries, carrots, peanut butter, and so on. Dee-lish. Gotta keep that going.
I finish my puzzles.
I get to work on my next-semester course, but listen to a short podcast on the election instead. Why?????
At 9:30 I head to the David Owsley Museum of Art for a meeting with its director to talk about ideas for my new course. He is, as always, welcoming and helpful. I was sad to know the Joan Mitchell painting was sold by Owsley in order to fund the museum’s future. Oh well. When I mention art theft as a way of approaching art, he says they are usually exercises in stupidity.
I begin all conversations with “how are you?” but adding “under the circumstances…”
We have a nice conversation about ideas and art. That feels good today.
I decide, on the walk home, that today is the day I begin my collection of street sweeper bristles from the road. Maybe I’ll make a sculpture or mobile with them when I have enough. I’ve heard they make excellent lock picks. Perhaps a career in burglary is in my future.
Now I’m hanging out with my daughter while she paints a whale now that her one class today was cancelled and following up on some emails and such. Is this whale white enough? How do we show texture on a white surface? Her questions are technical but also philosophical. Zora Neale Hurston and Glenn Ligon rise to the surface of my mind.
I spend the afternoon sliding between course planning (a re-invigorating joy right now) and playing electric guitar (a never-ending joy since 1979).
These tasks are relieved by a trip to the vacuum store to retrieve ours from its servicing. The woman with the perfect teeth emerges from the store as I pull up. I wonder how she feels about working there? I cannot ask. She’s dressed up (both times I’ve seen her) looking like she’s ready to head out to Lone Star Steakhouse and then out line-dancing on a Friday night, so I’m imagining she’s got a rich world beyond vacuums.
I make a stop at Payless for a few grocery items. Payless is a microcosm of American social ills. I always feel ashamed for my culture when I’m in there. Everyone, including me probably, looks like the walking wounded. Is it the harsh lighting or the harsh society? So many social ills on parade. How can a society treat its people so badly? To make America great again, if we really valued that, should start here, at the Payless supermarket on the corner of McGalliard and Wheeling roads.
My daughter goes out to give blood and then to hang out with friends after school. Lovely. She stays long enough that we decide we can send her to pick up takeout for dinner for all of us. Is this the beginning of the turn from parent to child, where we as caregivers begin the move the being cared for by our children? If so, the long slide to the assisted living facility begins with Chipotle take-out.
Since the pandemic we continue to eat around the coffee table watching a show. There’s still plenty of conversation happening, so we always choose a show requiring only minimal attention.
My wife and I slip into an evening of The Diplomat. She plays her games. I draw on my iPad.
I end the evening with a final guitar meditation.