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Random musings on a writer's life & times, with occasional input from acquaintances

 

Sunday, July 03, 2005

 
Here is a Sunday 7, the first since April. Bet you thought you’d never see another one. Or wished.

1) What are you wearing?

Bare feet, tan shorts, black T-shirt, a goatee. (Yes! A goatee! I grew one since I last wrote a Sunday 7. I added it to the mustache I have worn, off and on, since I was 18. It makes me look like Sigmund Freud or Leon Trotsky -- take your pick. Lemund Freudsky, perhaps.)

2) What are you reading?

“The Disappointment Artist,” a book of essays by Jonathan Lethem; “Inamorata,” a novel about parapsychology in the 1920s by Joseph Gangemi, and “Salinger,” a biography of author J.D. Salinger by Paul Alexander. Any predictions on whether I finish one?

3) What’s for dinner?

Probably take-out food of some sort. My wife/chef, Cookie Jean, finished a major cooking project yesterday -- a weeks-in-the-preparation wedding cake for the son of long-time neighborhood friends -- and she seems a bit burned out on the culinary front.

4) What’s the best thing that happened this week?

Let’s see. I guess that means since Monday, huh? Too bad. My mother’s family had a reunion in Sunriver a week ago today, which was pretty cool (my mother had nine siblings, and I have 30-odd -- very odd -- cousins), but I guess that doesn’t count. I’ll have to opt for Portland weather turning sunny and mild the last two days after weeks of cool, cloudy and damp.

5) What’s bugging you?

I am exhausted, which makes me cranky. I’m trying to get in shape to bicycle across Idaho at the end of July with Cookie Jean, so I pedaled a spinning bike frantically for an hour yesterday. I planned to relax today to recover, but this morning she demanded I accompany her on a 30-mile jaunt on a real bike -- it actually moves! -- to Gresham and back. I donno, man. If bike workouts on consecutive days leave me this tired, what’s going to happen when I have to straddle the iron horse day after day for a week? Sounds like bad berries, as we kids used to say.

6) Where in the world is Carmen San Diego?

Probably somewhere in Idaho, waiting to ambush me at the top of a mountain. Sunbeam? Salmon? Smelterville?

7) What’s it all about, Dave?

I agree with British novelist Kingsley Amis, who said:

"If you can't annoy somebody, there's little point in writing."





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