Monk

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Too sudsy! Monk needs to remember now,
having lost those locks on the barber's floor,
just a little dab of shampoo will do.

xXx

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Out on the post-breakfast rounds with Bo, while he is trying to read, Monk is suffering a runny nose. It is much worse than the usual morning clearing of the sinuses, and he has to go inside to get some toilet paper. He wonders if he is coming down with a cold or flu, but then the more likely answer befalls him: allergies. These whipping springtime breezes are carrying his allergens; the fresh coolness is not free for him.

xXx

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Monk took Bo out back for the first time this year. Those winter rains got us into the habit of forgetting about it, with so much of the back yard being just dirt.

He watered the front this morning, and he decided to give the back a try. At least its dry.

A lot of tall weeds need pulling. Monk has been content to wait until the lawn-mowing season begins, which should be soon, though the grass still looks stagnantly short and like it is not healthy enough to grow tall again.

Yet, Monk got a good feeling about it, thinking that there is still enough to use, so long as it is dry. Though, perhaps somewhat paradoxically, what lawn is there needs watering, to try to keep it there.

xXx

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It is Oscar night, and Monk cannot stand the idea of tuning in to catch the least bit of it. The thought of that pomp and circumstance just seems totally repugnant to him, as he falls farther and farther away from the mainstream culture. He'd rather see another Paris Hilton sex tape.

xXx

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Monk has discovered that he can enjoy watching movies in twenty, thirty minute bits and pieces. He is now looking to videotape more movies for his lunch and dinner time amusement. Previously, he labored under the impression that he has to watch a movie from start to finish, but now he can enjoy the repeated viewings of movies in the same way that he enjoys rereading books in snatches.

It is a nice improvement in passing the time enjoyably. He now wonders if he can enjoy DVDs in the same way, thinking that it is easier just to shut off a tape and then start running it again, whereas one has to do some hunting to find your break-off point on a DVD. He does not have many DVDs though and given their expense, one imagines that these tapes will be the way to go, though he is still infatuated with Black Scorpion and wouldn't mind getting that series in the rotation.

xXx

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Stepping outside with Bo first thing in the morning, Monk's ears are assailed by the squawking of birds, and he looks up and sees waves of them flying overheard. Another first. One supposes that they will start to build that nest at the porch again. Another trip around the circle. To many healthy and happy hatchlings, I guess!

xXx

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Looking at the hay that we have for a lawn, Monk sees that it is time to start watering - last night's rain was no more than a brief drizzle. Watering seems more sensible now that even the mornings are warming up, even though it is early in the year.

xXx

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We catch the Sinatra station! But it is not Frank Sinatra all the time. They also play standards and swing. Monk comes in at Johnny Mathis' "Misty," which is nice enough for him.

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[1430]

Actually, it looks like the channel is still only in the process of making the transition to an all-Sinatra format. In fact, Monk has yet to hear one Sinantra song, much less "One For My Baby (One For The Road)." This is, as they say, a developing story.

xXx

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Monk had a taste for a walk yesterday, but he did not need a shower, and he was hoping that the weather would hold out for another day One is reminded that you are a fool if you depend on the weather.

The winter air has regained its frigidity. Monk struggles reading his book outside as the cold bites his hands. Though, Bo loves it outdoors none the less. Indeed, the chill seems to give the air greater favor as far as the American Eskimo is concerned, keeping us out there longer on a nice leisurely pace.

Not only is Monk ripe for a shower, but he also has some bread on hand, and the ducks still have a pull on his sympathies. I have some hope of maybe going out before lunch, but it looks and feels like the sun is not going to make it out all morning, if she comes out at all.

And, these days, Monk does need the call of fair weather to call him out and venture forth. Gone is that sense of religious obligation when one would suffer cold and rain. Oh, ye primate of negligible faith. To think he once ran and even did push-ups and sit-ups! Such is the power of Valentine dreams.

xXx

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For the first time in a long time, Monk was not satisfied with listening to sappy love songs. He wanted something harder, and he surfed the music channels again. He stopped at that Buzzsaw rock of the 70s, the music of Dee's wild and sexually free youth, listening to some Kiss music, at least for almost a minute. He settled at the Blues channel, ready to switch back home to Elvis where he can always feel safe.

I think it is this spring-like weather. A little stirring of vital life.

xXx