I’m sitting at my desk listening to a compilation of Ben Folds’ music, including his latest album, Songs for Silverman. I’d like to be doing something else, I think. But right now all I’m doing is listening to music. And sometimes that is the best thing for you, really. Sometimes you just have to shut off your head, let the notes pour over you like water, and relax.
Sometimes it’s good if there is also beer involved. Tonight is not one of those nights, though.
I went down to Cincinnati today to visit the parents for a bit. They’re doing well. Dad sat on the deck smoking cigarettes, shivering. He swam in an old flannel shirt and a pair of pants that, if he hadn’t worn a belt, would have fallen down. Mom seemed shorter than normal. I’m not sure what it was, it just felt that way. My parents aren’t old by any stretch of the imagination, but I can see the start of it.
The song “Magic” just ended.
We watched the Bengals get their asses handed to them by the Pittsburgh Steelers. We watched “Batman Begins.” We talked for a while. We ate dinner. My aunt and cousins came over and we shared cake and ice cream in celebration of my impending birthday. We talked for a while. Mom and Dad gave me a present: the original edition of “The Natural” by Bernard Malamud. Being the baseball fan that I am, I can’t believe I haven’t read this book. I tried to check it out a hundred times when I worked at the library, but in the course of my four and a half years it never came available. I had it on my list of “books I will buy if I ever come across them at a bookstore,” but I had not, as of a few weeks ago, been able to find it. Mom asked me what I wanted for my birthday, and I told her to pick up this book if she could find it.
They came through, as is usual. I don’t know how they do it, but they have a knack for finding things.
So it seems that my “soon to read” pile of books has grown considerably over the past few weeks. Currently, I have a stack of books on my shelf, waiting to be read, which include The Bridge of San Luis Rey, The Natural, Invisible Monsters, and Searchin For God Know’s What. I’ll get to them some day. I swear I will.
Not much else to report. I think I’ll tackle some reading before I retire for the evening.
The Me
- The Sasquatch
- Columbus, Ohio, United States
- I'm a bald man with bad eyesight. I'm 5'11" and I eat chili with reckless abandon. I'm a Cincinnati Reds fan and lover of literature. I once tackled a midget. I work with computers but my computer rarely works. My ears ring, my feet hurt, and most popular music will make my toenails curl if the weather is right. I am hopeless when it comes to understanding women or economics or why the sky is blue instead of some other color. I enjoy the smell of freshly cut grass and the sound of rain in the forest. I believe in God, but I sometimes wonder whether He believes in me. I watch television on Wednesdays and I listen to the radio when I'm in my car. My baseball coach used to tell me that I ran so slow he had to time me with a calendar and my band director once said I could be a professional cornet player if only I'd practice. I am madly in love with my wife and she is madly in love with the original CSI. I wake up each morning with a smile on my face because, even if it's cold and grey and rainy and dreary, the first thing I see in the morning is her face, and it is the most beautiful site in the world; especially after I put on my glasses.
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