- 24 April 2001
- A Close Market Street Shave
- Im still deeply infatuated with biking, even after last night. Especially after last night. I was bombing down Mason Street at a pleasing rate of speedcatching all the lights just rightthen sped onto an empty Market Street.
And thats when it hit me.
Market Street, that is. Some scumbag had laid tram tracks in the middle of the street without telling me. (Lois claims that theyve been there for decades, but what does she know?) The bike wheels tried to be train wheels and failed, miserably. The bike stopped instantly, but I kept going.
The experience wasnt too bad initially, but gravity soon united me with the grimy asphalt of Market Street. I slid on my elbow for a while, long enough to remove quite a bit of skin.
I was pleased with the results. It never would have occurred to me to sand away a few layers of skin to see texture of the various epidermal layers. Once Id done so involuntarily, though, I was quite pleased with the results.
Lois wasnt impressed, though. Personally, she advised, I think youre one of those guys who looks better with his skin on.
But what does she know?
- 25 April 2001
- Krispy Kremes Oracle
- Eddie uses doughnuts to manage his business. And not just any doughnuts either; he uses Krispy Kremes. Only Krispy Kremes. (As an aside, Krispy Kremes are unusual in that they look like doughnuts, but taste like sausages and ice cream.)
Every Wednesday, Eddie brings a dozen identical Krispy Kremes to the office, puts then on a table near his desk, then carefully watches the order in which his employees select them. Eddie then interprets pattern using kind of my own spin on the I Ching, then makes his business decisions accordingly.
Eddie told me he started using the real I Ching, but thought Krispy Kremes were more relevant to doing business in the United States. Eddie makes a lot of money, and you cant argue against that. At least not in the United States of America.
- 26 April 2001
- Play Ball! (Slowly)
- I accepted Michaels invitation to watch a baseball game with him this afternoon, and Im glad I did. Even before the game started, it was a pleasure knowing that we were reveling in sloth and indolence just a few hundred kilometers from office drones suffering in the fluorescent hell of their antiseptic cubicles.
Too bad for them; what a treat for us!
We sat on the edge of the large, grassy field drinking copious amounts of beer and munching on tacos and sushi. And thats progress. Even though the game of baseball hasnt changed all that much in the last century or two, at least the foods a lot better than the rubber hot dogs I savored when I was a child.
The best part about the game, though, was the excruciating boredom. It was like watching a painter whod ingested a fatal dose of barbiturates painting the last canvas. Imagine dozens of grown men trying to hit a little ball with a stick: thats Americas pastime!
I love baseball. Its more useless than philosophy, and even more boring than art. Go team go!
(And the score? I think the San Francisco team was thrashed by opponents from a city of little consequence, but Im not exactly sure.)
- 27 April 2001
- Not Dead, Not Really
- Im listening to yet another debate on the death penalty, and Im listening to the same two arguments. One side maintains that killing is wrong, so people shouldnt be killed. The other side maintains that killing is wrong, so people who kill people should be killed.
The discussion was going on and on and on some more with numbing predictability until some idiot came on to espouse a piece of lovely logic.
Killing killers with a lethal injection isnt cruel. she maintained. its just like permanent anesthesia.
Im never going to die, but at some point Ill enter a state of permanent anesthesia. Sweet dreams indeed!
- 28 April 2001
- Without Author or Art
- Dory doesnt know much about me, but she does know that Ive wasted a large part of my life making photographs. I suspect thats why she passed along this observation by Lewis Baltz:
The ideal photographic document would appear to be without author or art.
- Anyone smart enough to be Monicas father certainly knows more than the average shutterbug, so I cant rebut his proposition.
I can say, however, that Im certainly glad I abandoned photography before the medium abandoned me.
- 29 April 2001
- Charity, Sleeping
- Charity is one of my favorite friends, even though I rarely see her. Charity sleeps like a cat. Charity sleeps whenever she can. Charity sleeps all the time.
Charity tells me consciousness is overrated; she said that dreaming is by far the most rewarding state of human evolution.
Who am I to contradict her?
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©2001 David Glenn Rinehart