A Day In Five Parts

Part One: I wake in the gray light of the bedroom, curled beneath my comforter. Nothing in particular woke me. I was simply done sleeping. I linger for a while and then roll out and take a shower. I dress simply, blue jeans and a black button down shirt. I make coffee for the morning. I go online and journey into the Spiritual Insights chat room. As I sit there I realize I have fallen into an introspective mood. I simply read the chat for about an hour. I exchange pleasantries with a few people. I note the absence of a few people who always brighten the room. I leave chat. I write a journal entry. I respond to One Minute Writer. I gather my laundry.

Part Two: I drive down to the laundromat and load three machines. 24 minutes for the wash cycle. I text a dear friend whom I am thinking of. There is no response. I read "One Bullet Away". The timer sounds and I switch the clothes over to the dryers. 36 minutes to go. I go back to the car. I think. I write. I read. Then comes the moment I enjoy so much. I stand at a table and fold laundry. The warmth. The textures. The soft scents. I stand, I fold, I gaze out the windows and watch the wind swirl in the vivid green leaves of the trees across the street.

Part Three: I drive a few blocks to Boston Market for lunch. Dido's "White Flag" is playing on the radio. I sit in the car for a moment to let the song echo to a close. A young woman in gray sweat pants and a gray SJSU sweater walks by carrying an over-sized bottle of coke. A gust of wind buffets her and she drops the bottle. It hits the pavement and explodes. She leaps nimbly out of the way of the spraying soda. She stands there and looks forlornly at the bottle until it
stops spraying. She picks it up and throws it into the trash can twenty feet away - a clean and crisp jump shot. Lunch is chicken, red potatoes and sweet corn, washed down with iced tea. I drive home. I carry the laundry up to the apartment and put it away. I sit in my chair and write, bathed in the peculiar gray light of the impending rain. I am still restless. I decide to wander back out. I slip my camera in my pocket.

Part Four:  Lacking an organizing principle I drive over to Santana Row, to CineArts, to see "The Reader", with Kate Winslet and Ralph Fiennes.  The movie is a mish-mash. I want to like it but, ultimately, I don't.  A pair of powerful actors in a movie that hits a half a dozen cliches that we have seen before - there is simplicity in movies and their is mock simplicity.  "The Reader" abounds with mock simplicity.  It tries to hard but lacks the underlying imagination to pull it off.  As I walk out of the movie theatre I get a text.  I read it.  No response is necessary. I walk back to the car and drive home.

Part Five:  I order a delivery pizza. I work on my other laptop, running scans, making adjustments.  I watch the last half of Juno while eating pizza.  Grosse Pointe Blank comes on so I settle in to watch a movie I have seen a dozen times, but still love.  John Cusack plays Martin Blank, a hitman, going home for his high school reunion.  I would rank it high on my list of favorite movies.  The evening is quiet.  The evening is reflective and introspective.  The evening is a meditation on complexity.  The evening is a meditation on the nature of our demons.

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