1236

Those of us who are what some folks call "manic-depressive" realize that life, or at least inner life, is like a pendulum. Not quite as grim as Mister Poe's version (well, at least not most of the time), but like an old clock. Sometimes it doesn't get winding. That's the worst, when the pendulum just hangs there, straight down. B.O.R.I.N.G.

Then it swings all the way to the UP side and sticks there for awhile. After a few decades of experience, we know it is going to eventually swing to the opposite side and stick there. As I mentioned not long ago, the DOWN side is actually easier to cope with once you get older.

The most difficult part of this weird way of living a life is when it swings back-and-forth rapidly, UP/DOWN within an hour, or even from minute to minute.

I saw most, perhaps all, of Ronald Reagan's films. I was indifferent to him as a movie star, he wasn't Gable, Dean, Brando, Gibson, Pitt. I did not vote for him and I was not much of a fan when he was President, either. But in retrospect, he seems to me one of the best American Presidents of my lifetime.

And I am grateful he was finally released from that wretched thing called Altzheimer's. I'll be even more grateful if the gods just give me some fast-killing cancer instead.

1237

The English may not dress well by continental standards, but the way they dress badly is of enormous importance.
Iaian Pears: Giotto's Hand

Witty. As was David Handler's The Man Who Would be F. Scott Fitzgerald.

I was reading some "light" modern novels, then dipped into the classics again and re-read Hardy's Tess of the d'Urbervilles. Said a jacket blurb, "it shocked its Victorian audience". Not surprising at all. It's still a bit shocking .... and grim.

Adorable!

No, not Thomas Hardy, but the event which greeted me on the morning after the famous Venus Transit. The entire family came at one time, for the first time, to eat breakfast. All six of the family came to eat. Yes, I said SIX. Lady Grey's last production. Three little kittens who have lost their mittens ...

I was, still am a bit, concerned for the little ones. Andrew is SO greedy. And the little ones kept waiting until Andrew and Thimble finished their breakfast before coming down. But they soon got wise, realized if they wanted to eat they had better get there right at the start. They seem to be sorting themselves out okay, but I guess I'll have to increase my cat food budget as they mature. (Andrew really should have the decency his Uncle Killer had, move elsewhere when a new batch arrives).

Every time I get some physical problem and I look on the web, it tells me modern medical science doesn't know the answer. Okay, I accept that they can't cure the common cold or cancer, but couldn't they find a poison for the "earworm"? And what about dandruff? I had some difficulty with that in my early twenties, thought it was probably that hideous steam heat New Yorkers endure in winter. But why now, when I spend most of my time outdoors? Back then, "Head and Shoulders" shampoo was the solution, even if it does incredibly dry out your hair (amazing I am not entirely bald), but in my "Golden Years" it doesn't seem to be working as well.

Oh well, in my "Golden Years" that's not the only thing not working as well. (If a grammar teacher scolds me for using a double negative, I shall scowl.)

1238

I was scolded for my remarks about Ronald Reagan. Compared to what we heard during the week after he died, I thought my "eulogy" wasn't really all that kind. I considered writing about all the Presidents of my lifetime to justify what I did say, but have decided against it, especially since there is one I much loved and don't want to publicly re-evaluate after all these years. Let's just say we started at a high point with Franklin Delano Roosevelt and have now reached the other extreme with that squatter who is presently in the White House.

While waxing nasty about the Executive Branch, let me not leave out the Judicial Branch. What weasels, the Supreme Court! Dodging a judgement on the Pledge for such a petty reason instead of tackling the substance of the thing. Weasels.

A skunk in the White House, weasels in the Supreme Court building .... let us not consider what insult to the animal world could be applied to the members of Congress.

A holiday weekend, one of those awful off-line days on Friday. I did have a nice long chat that morning with the Cat Lady who slightly alarmed me by saying she has been trying to get an "official statement" from the office of the President (the campus one, not the White House) about the status of campus cats. Since the campus president seems to be in some danger of losing his job due to sloppy accounting practices, he is not likely to be much interested in homeless cats. But I think it's probably wiser to let the status quo continue without seeking some direct ruling. (I didn't tell her so.)

"Are you going to have a shower?" I heard one man ask another at the Black Hole. "I only shower once a month," was the reply. "Once a month?!" Oh well, I sympathized, but then I am slowly sinking into a "socially non-acceptable" position anyway. Rotting teeth (the few that are left), too much tobacco and beer, must make my breath as fragrant as a pigsty. A little more frequent than once-a-month showers, true, but not much. And being too lazy to buy a new tee shirt as often as I probably should (especially in the current sweaty weather).

Exit, muttering it doesn't matter.

And wishing the Sleeptalker a very, very happy birthday on Third Wednesday.

1239

Jonathan Cainer wrote: This is due to be an action-packed week. If life already appears to be as busy as it can get, prepare for an interesting discovery. It CAN get busier. If you think things are already as intense and exciting as they could ever be, think again.

Not so sure about the "intense and exciting", but I have to agree with the general prediction. My French Reader has been in Honolulu for a conference and came to campus early on Monday morning to join me and my six children in our usual Kitty Breakfast Time. Then she plied me with Bloody Mary's at the mall's Mai Tai Bar on Tuesday. Then she provided lunch at the Indigo restaurant on Thursday for me, Ryan Ozawa, Helen R, and .... the Sleeptalker.

Yes, he arrived at the mall while I was having my coffee, the morning after his 29th birthday.

Despite some pretty grubby clothes, he was clean-shaven, has a Brad Pitt type short haircut, and is as adorable as he always has been for me. I replaced the clothes by taking him shopping after we'd spent a couple of hours in Seventh Circle and I'd bought him breakfast. Then we went to Chinatown where I bought him cigarettes before going to the luncheon meeting. After the lunch, he said, "I didn't know you have such intelligent friends." He was no doubt intimidated by the company, but needs more experience of such ordinary social occasions.

He had no identification so they wouldn't serve him a beer at the restaurant. As I told him, he'll probably still be asked for his ID when he's forty because he looks so much younger than his real age. So after lunch I bought beer and we went to sit somewhere I won't mention to drink it, fortunately didn't get arrested this time.

And, of course, he wanted the glass pipe filling. Idiot that I am, I bought it for him. Well, I thought I was buying it for us, but he vanished. Such a silly, sweet, silly silly boy.

the tales