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Last night Arthudo gave up early on watching TV in the kitchen. He was out before ten o'clock. I immediately started shutting everything off and going dark, and I was in bed before ten-thirty. On my own I probably would have stayed up a little later, as I wasn't really feeling that drained, but I wanted to discourage him from returning late to the kitchen TV. He has a new super-size monitor on his computer; he can watch TV there. I slept easily, though, slept the whole time. I have picked up a real talent for sleep. My afternoon naps now tend to last over an hour, instead of the ten-to-twenty minutes of years past.
I would like to think that I have found my nirvana in old age: just sleep and more sleep, and burning off some of the excess energy on my books, the vestige of my younger life. However, I notice that I still have these bursts of angry feelings: let the Islamists blow up the West, and let Dr. G's son be among the victims! (I don't think I've mentioned that he has acquired a son, who I think is in college now - the way Dr. G dotes on him on Twitter!) The anger is not that much, though, nothing that a little therapeutic writing can't take care of. So, I probably am in the best place I have ever been since childhood, life-wise, emotionally speaking. My fifties are mellowing me. The lusts and covetousness and resentment are not nearly as strong as they used to be. For instance, I think I am finally able to quit stalking Sugar. It feels like I am just winding down my life now. These days I am only greedy and ambitious for a good nap and maybe a few cookies.
* * *
June 10, 1994
When I took Bo out for the last time today, Arthudo was working out on his treadmill, belching away interminably and 'singing' an ode to beer.
* * *
Arthudo announced that Amazon has another deal. He reads through those e-mails; I do not. I have found that Amazon is pretty stingy on its deals. It's nothing to get excited about. Nevertheless, I dutifully followed Arthudo's lead and took a look. The deals for a free e-book actually looked better than they usually do, and I ended up getting a Philip K. Dick novel, "A Scanner Darkly". It wasn't one of the ones I was particularly interested in, but it's free. Alas, I gave up on the novel after a couple of chapters.
I know what I want to read, and I do not have infinite time and energy to spend on books that aren't taking me where I want to go, free or not. I doubt that Arthudo is capable of understanding this. He seems to think that books are interchangeable. As they say, just words, words, words. Now, if Chernow's latest biography, on Ulysses S. Grant, for example, was available, that would have been a good deal for me, since I am planning on laying down some money on that eventually. I have also been hankering to give Dickens's "Bleak House" another go, after first reading it about thirty years ago instead of my law school texts, when I was on my way out from the cushy academic and professional track. Nor would I mind some pop-fiction, a little escapist pleasure to take my mind off of my life for a little while, but there wasn't anything there to tempt me, no slick detective novel or intriguing spy novel or a dirty sex novel, nothing really for me. This P. K. Dick novel looked like my best chance to get and enjoy a free read, and like I said, it turned out to be a bust. I should know better than to expect something for nothing, but Arthudo can be a bad influence in that regard.
At least I am now free from the once-tempting idea that I might find in Dick another author to follow closely. Yeah, "The Man in the High Castle" was a fun read, and "Blade Runner" was a fairly enjoyable movie, but, no, I'm not really a Philip K. Dick man. Maybe if I were a druggie it would be another matter, but that's not my life, and not my fascination - especially if you keep it rather clean of sex.
* * *
It seems I cannot even be bothered to give my hair a perfunctory combing these days, and as my hair is now reaching its long-hippie phase, it could become a knotty problem.
I am not shaving either. I'm waiting for my face to reach the Grizzly Adams phase before I clear it all off.
But I am still showering regularly! :)
* * *
I swear, Sammy needs a new muffler. His engine idles so loudly. It actually unnerves me a little, giving me the impression that he is building up some aggression and could strike at any time. These cats are socialized, but Sammy reminds me that they are still really wild animals - no rabie shots or anything, for instance. Of course, if I only had Ash, I could be lulled into complacency. A gentle lady. Almost dog-like, which is a big compliment from me.
* * *
Before I shut the laptop down for the night, I should give a weather report. We are in a wintry-rainy spell. Kind of pleasant, if you are like me and Teri, if you like a little chill in your air. The cats, stuck in the house, though, can be annoying. It doesn't help that the litter box is no longer a sure-thing.
I finally got around to breaking out the faucet-protectors. In the past, I always put them on with the first cold blast. This year, I was content to wait for a real chance at some freezing weather. I take things easier. Hell, I barely wake up.
I would like to think that I have found my nirvana in old age: just sleep and more sleep, and burning off some of the excess energy on my books, the vestige of my younger life. However, I notice that I still have these bursts of angry feelings: let the Islamists blow up the West, and let Dr. G's son be among the victims! (I don't think I've mentioned that he has acquired a son, who I think is in college now - the way Dr. G dotes on him on Twitter!) The anger is not that much, though, nothing that a little therapeutic writing can't take care of. So, I probably am in the best place I have ever been since childhood, life-wise, emotionally speaking. My fifties are mellowing me. The lusts and covetousness and resentment are not nearly as strong as they used to be. For instance, I think I am finally able to quit stalking Sugar. It feels like I am just winding down my life now. These days I am only greedy and ambitious for a good nap and maybe a few cookies.
* * *
June 10, 1994
When I took Bo out for the last time today, Arthudo was working out on his treadmill, belching away interminably and 'singing' an ode to beer.
* * *
Arthudo announced that Amazon has another deal. He reads through those e-mails; I do not. I have found that Amazon is pretty stingy on its deals. It's nothing to get excited about. Nevertheless, I dutifully followed Arthudo's lead and took a look. The deals for a free e-book actually looked better than they usually do, and I ended up getting a Philip K. Dick novel, "A Scanner Darkly". It wasn't one of the ones I was particularly interested in, but it's free. Alas, I gave up on the novel after a couple of chapters.
I know what I want to read, and I do not have infinite time and energy to spend on books that aren't taking me where I want to go, free or not. I doubt that Arthudo is capable of understanding this. He seems to think that books are interchangeable. As they say, just words, words, words. Now, if Chernow's latest biography, on Ulysses S. Grant, for example, was available, that would have been a good deal for me, since I am planning on laying down some money on that eventually. I have also been hankering to give Dickens's "Bleak House" another go, after first reading it about thirty years ago instead of my law school texts, when I was on my way out from the cushy academic and professional track. Nor would I mind some pop-fiction, a little escapist pleasure to take my mind off of my life for a little while, but there wasn't anything there to tempt me, no slick detective novel or intriguing spy novel or a dirty sex novel, nothing really for me. This P. K. Dick novel looked like my best chance to get and enjoy a free read, and like I said, it turned out to be a bust. I should know better than to expect something for nothing, but Arthudo can be a bad influence in that regard.
At least I am now free from the once-tempting idea that I might find in Dick another author to follow closely. Yeah, "The Man in the High Castle" was a fun read, and "Blade Runner" was a fairly enjoyable movie, but, no, I'm not really a Philip K. Dick man. Maybe if I were a druggie it would be another matter, but that's not my life, and not my fascination - especially if you keep it rather clean of sex.
* * *
It seems I cannot even be bothered to give my hair a perfunctory combing these days, and as my hair is now reaching its long-hippie phase, it could become a knotty problem.
I am not shaving either. I'm waiting for my face to reach the Grizzly Adams phase before I clear it all off.
But I am still showering regularly! :)
* * *
I swear, Sammy needs a new muffler. His engine idles so loudly. It actually unnerves me a little, giving me the impression that he is building up some aggression and could strike at any time. These cats are socialized, but Sammy reminds me that they are still really wild animals - no rabie shots or anything, for instance. Of course, if I only had Ash, I could be lulled into complacency. A gentle lady. Almost dog-like, which is a big compliment from me.
* * *
Before I shut the laptop down for the night, I should give a weather report. We are in a wintry-rainy spell. Kind of pleasant, if you are like me and Teri, if you like a little chill in your air. The cats, stuck in the house, though, can be annoying. It doesn't help that the litter box is no longer a sure-thing.
I finally got around to breaking out the faucet-protectors. In the past, I always put them on with the first cold blast. This year, I was content to wait for a real chance at some freezing weather. I take things easier. Hell, I barely wake up.
