Monday began with a walk with my three lady friends and their dogs. It’s always a good day that begins with a shared walk, and … the day was beautiful from noon until about 3:30, when clouds returned.
I spent much of the day on the couch; I finished the book I’ve been reading over the past week (All That Man Is by David Szalav). I really liked it. It tells the story of manhood through the experience of unrelated men. As I wrote yesterday: It could be considered a collection of short stories, but it works beautifully and cleverly as a novel. I have over thirty books to choose from for my next book.
I (blush) was one of those “peas can’t touch the corn” kids. I wanted everything separate and I ate one thing at a time. As Lady Gaga would say: I was born this way.
I once wanted to write an illustrated book titled, They Knew Before Me, about a boy who takes a long time to come out. I wanted to write very short blurbs for one side of a double-page spread, with an illustration on the other page. Example: in 1957, we got a TV. Superman influenced my impression of Christ. One Halloween I went out with a clothes hanger halo encrusted with yellow construction paper for my halo wearing a cape with “Jesus” written across it and I told people I could run faster than a train, leap tall buildings in a single bound, turn water into wine and cure Leprosy. Final answer: I pasted sequins on the bottom of the cape.
As I recall things like separating my food, the anxiety about eating in restaurants when travelling alone and other things, I have a sequel for the coming out book in mind: Reasons I Might Have Known, looking back at my history with anxiety. Example: In elementary school one teacher taught us everything from A to A: arithmetic to art. Art was, of course my favourite, but Miss Landower and I came to blows every time she said, “Now, turn your paper over and we’re going to do another exercise there. Oh no we’re not, not me. I would refuse to use both sides of the paper. I wanted a pristinely clean sheet for every drawing.
Lately, many of the programs I want to watch on PBS are interrupted by extended donation appeals. I have no problem with soliciting donations for such a valued resource; our Knowledge Network has the same practice. But the PBS ‘advertisements’ are galling; I find their choice of spokespersons and the scripts they follow to be dreadful. I now tape the PBS shows I want to watch so that I can fast forward through the appeals.
I cannot believe how insipidly the men and women presenters speak to us, nor how irritatingly repetitive are their scripts. Considering that PBS audiences are likely of above average intelligence, their ads are abominable. The Knowledge Network appeals for donations are entirely endurable; they feature ‘just plain folks’ addressing the need in their own words, and always about their love for the channel. Then they self-identify as donors, explaining why (again in their own words) why they support the network. The ads are respectful, honest and feel non-corporate.
I knew that Summer was returning, but today was predicted to be dark and wet and endless good weather was to begin tomorrow, but today has dawned clear and bright. It’s going to be a beauty of a day for our walks and for puttering around in the yard.