Days Are Numbers in General
- May 1, 2019, 2:31 a.m.
- |
- Public
I first heard this song about the time I turned 20. I had been on my own since 17. And I never seemed to stop moving. Every time I went home I was turning around and leaving.
I’m thankful that that restlessness is fading as I age. Beyond the ache for love was always the ache to travel, not so much travel as keep moving. And I’ve been everywhere, man. Except South America. I hear they have great steaks on the west coast of South America. I’d put it on a bucket list, but my bucket list is already too full.
I had to drive down to Sanford to meet with my daughter’s dentist today. She goes under on the 17th. He doesn’t expect to find much. It was sort of a waste of 3 hours of my life.
I thought for sure Mercury was in retrograde. The traffic was nuts. Nope. Mercury is not in retrograde until July, but there are stern warnings out there for Leos. I don’t know if I will even go to the beach in July. I’m damn sure not having heart surgery in July. If it doesn’t happen by June, it will have to be late August or September.
My daughter’s dentist, lets call him Dr. Mark because that is his name, had me sign a bunch of releases. Then we sat there and shot the shit for two hours. Professionals – Doctors and Lawyers and Dentists and Judges are absolutely fascinated with veterans. Almost without exception. The Judge who presided over my guardianship of the bean and later my bankruptcy perfunctorily signed all the paperwork then wanted to talk about flying. And guitars.
The conversation wandered all over the place finally settling on 9-11. He was already in dentistry school when those assholes did what they did. He has three brothers, all who got the same phone call from their father. “Don’t do anything stupid.” One brother joined the Marines. Doc stayed in dentistry school.
We talked about flying, specifically military flying. It is an object of fascination. He peppered me with questions and I waxed nostalgic. It doesn’t hurt a bit that all of his employees are freaking hot.
Finally I said “I’m sorry to have taken up so much of your time bullshitting.” He answered “No, this was great. I work with a bunch of women. I never get to have guy conversations.”
So an hour and a half down, an hour and a half back. Two hours of shooting the shit.
I finally got around to editing my second writing sample for the MFA. I shot it over to my dad for a quick review.
Now I have to go review his review. I am noticing in fiction, it takes me just over an hour per page. And that is double spaced.
It is much easier to write here, where I am just dumping the shit that bounces around in my head.
It all part of life’s rich tapestry!
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