Resilience

Was the previous post indulgent? I pledged to avoid banality!

If blogging is done in the exact sense, I'd think that means logging encounters, endeavors and experiences objectively and in an economy of expression. Like a ship's log, exactly; not necessarily autobiographical, let alone a vehicle for one's thoughts and feelings. (I think they call such vehicles books.) Nor even a diary. In the last couple of weeks I've left my house only to revictual. That certainly diminishes le joie de vivre.

Frankly, though, I've no desire to leave the house. It doesn't matter much one way or the other. There's no one out there. Almost thirty years in Phoenix and it's still a town full of strangers. Not only that, but it's a place where people you've got passing acquaintances with are much deficient in mannered solicitude. Very strange. And it's still too hot.

"So why do you live there?"

Presently, I suppose the answer to that question is simply inertia.

Plenty of time to read life's reading list.

Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind and said,
"Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?
Now gird up your loins like a man and I will ask you, and you instruct Me?
Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
Tell me, if you have understanding,
who set its measurements, since you know?"

"Or who stretched the line on it?
On what were its bases sunk?
Or who laid its cornerstone,
When all the morning stars sang together,
And all the sons of God shouted for joy?"

Job 38:1-7

Impasse

The immunological challenges resolved, the initial enthusiasm exhibited "blogging" has much dissipated. I sure was feeling low and I've put on ten pounds. I certainly do prefer reading to writing.

One of the aspects, I surmise, of doing something like this, when you live alone and have no involvements of any significance, is a sort of self-validation in the optimism that, even though no one cares about you or is the least bit interested in you, you still need to come up with reasons for living. When again, as experienced here where there is no interaction (How ever much the Internet is touted as a means of thriving socially, I've not experienced it.) whatsoever with others, you could feel despondent. I'm quite adapted to this on account of a family that never had any interest in me. This instance on point... it is I who initiate sociability and bring forth topics; I've siblings who've never (I mean never in all my life.) initiated any society with me - not even a conversation. So, in a sense, I'm used to a lack of responsiveness, and refuse to feel defeated. Yet there is the cliche of "setting yourself up for disappointment."

Obviously, it is fatal to expect an actual social experience in a virtual circumstance. All one can do is indeed validate one's vitality. This is a learning experience in more ways than one. In addition to the technical publishing skills slowly being acquired, I suppose I must explore other blogs for comrades, as it were, and invite reciprocal participation.

Comfort Food, cont'd

The sniffles persist. Further intervention indicated . . .

Unlimited Coffee also offers luscious gelato. What is gelato? I'm not a connoisseur, but I think you could say it's ice cream without the air. The chocolate is like a frozen Ghiradelli bar, the papaya a smooth tropical tang at the back of the tongue. Ah, the simple pleasures.

All the teams I may have been inclined to root for having been eliminated, I've not seen a baseball game all week. I do think I'll try and catch the Dodgers trying to stay alive tomorrow.

Instead of watching those games, I've read all week, and am presently engrossed by Crazy '08 by Cait Murphy. A profound point made is that, aside from adjustments such as banning the spitter, lowering the pitcher's mound, and the designated hitter, baseball is the same now as it was then. Comforting?

Feed a Cold

That's just what I did, cooping and going way off the diet. What else do you feel like eating under the circumstance but pasta? Trying to get re-involved with the world-at-large. After getting caught up online, it's back on the treadmill for me.

I've had a few rides on my bike; the weather is still too hot to enjoy it, and the title of this blog reminds me of the hazards entertained. I find it ironic to get all exited about it and then go have a topple and break your face.

Haven't paid much attention to the financial news these past days. Looks dreadful. As far as I can tell, the situation was created by giving money away, and now money is to be given away to replace that. Dreadful and absurd. I feel alienated from the entire so called "political process." It's been co-opted by interests both socialist and capitalist toward looting the taxpayer and nothing will be done about it as our representatives are but go-fors and cut-outs for the looters, getting a cut for themselves and their associates one way or another. I think so. It's very, very sad. Our votes mean nothing when individuals like this are validated election after election.

Gender Issues

Stopped into the Goodwill to look at bikes. Looked like what they had, in the $25-50 range, would cost double after repairs of as-is merchandise. Goodwill good for silk shirts and pottery otherwise, not this.

I knew Wal-Mart had bicycles @ $100. Had another look there. There was one on sale, marked down from $99.99 to 69.99, then again to 39.99 - a floor model. But it happened to be the female configuration. Utterly secure in my masculoonity, I bought it.

Unfortunately, I feel I'm coming down with a flu bug, so no Detour tonight. Really wanted to get some pictures for another slide show. Maybe next month.

Surreally Appreciated

Several years ago, the Phoenix Art Museum put on a surrealist show. They touted Dali, but there were only three of his pieces presented. One of the others was this . . .

Just happened to be reading this and the picture popped up in the slide show. The thing of it is that Hide and Seek was hung at the Museum of Modern Art in NYC (I don't know where it resides these days.) on the third floor when I was a teenager. I had a student membership, and that was great for seeing all the classic movies before VCR and cable. Took in the collection many times too. Headed toward Guernica, this piece was prominent; a large canvas it is, and unforgettable.

Hadn't seen it in thirty years when I did so in Phoenix as mentioned. What a delight.

Went to search out the image, but I'd forgotten the artist and the title already. Thought it was called Child's Play - a mix-up. Subsequently not able to add it to my digital gallery.

Very happy to see it again serendipitously!

Alternative Conventuality

This evening is the Detour and, the weather cooling off, I may take a mope. I'm seriously considering getting a bicycle this afternoon. Cruise around and take pictures.

Sounds like a plan. Last time I was on a bike I near was kilt.

The event has gotten mainstreamed to the extent it's promotional of a lot of business. Much of downtown and central Phoenix is decrepit and the boosters look to happenings like this to draw folks from the exurbs. People like myself, who see Box Lady quite often and frequent the area daily, tend to avoid the crowds. Others like the meet-up potential. I'm certainly not a collector.

Remedied

My exercise routine includes a couple of miles on the treadmill, a circuit train, a few dumb-bells and a long soak in the hot tub. I stretch out and t'ai-chi my own variations (Swimming Dragon.) therein, bending over backwards arching my back, belly skyward, and dunking my head well aware of the itsy-bitsy risk.

Yeah... developed a case. An ear went septic.

Bolused some golden seal and dropped a 3-1 solution of olive and tea tree oils down the canal.

It's clearing up, thank God, the risk of a brain syndrome entertained.

Quandary

So you see a pen on the ground at the coffee place.
No, it's a pencil; fine one at that. A working capital instrument.

Do you turn it in, or finders' keepers?

Pardon me while I conceptualize - and get focused.

Chance Meeting

On way to Cubs / LA came upon Mexican Bird of Paradise.

Had to stop. Just took a moment.

Update: Them poor Cubbies.

Hurry, Sundown . . .

. . . in Chicago. Game time 3.30 here.

Consider the possibilities: the Freeway Series, the Loopy Series. The Cheesesteak and Schlitz Series going down already. A lot of old timers would love to see it go between Fenway and Wrigley. Headed here myself.

Don't think I'll last for the Boston game. Maybe go to Bible Study. I should.